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lipstickstainz · 3 years

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just a few days - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: There’s no denying that Spencer and you hate each other. What happens, when you are forced to spend a few days together? Warnings: enemies to lovers, language, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), typical criminal minds stuff Word Count: 4.5k A/N: hello friends. this is my first one shot and I hope you like it. gif not mine.

„I didn’t think you could be any more of a shithead, but you just proved me wrong.“

Many people believe in love at first sight. The heart starts racing, the knees go weak and you feel dizzy. You want to get to know the other person at all costs. Which is total bullshit, of course. You can't fall in love with someone at first sight. Interest, yes, but that's not love.

With Spencer and you it was different. The first time you met, you were breathless. Your muscles tensed to the breaking point, the blood pulsed in your ears, and your stomach turned. Only, in your case, it definitely wasn't love.

„I saw a trash bag on the side of the road today. Reminded me of you“, you shot back and Spencer rolled his eyes.

Hate at first sight really did exist, and Spencer and you were the prime example.

There was always a stupid comment, a scathing sideways glance, or catty laughter. Neither of you took it personally - why would you? You weren't interested in each other's opinions - and it didn't interfere with your work, which is why Hotch didn't say anything about it. It annoyed him, but he had also noticed that the quality of your work was higher when you were at each other's throats than when you worked separately.

You couldn't even remember why you had been so hostile to each other from the beginning. It was mutual antipathy, but no one knew why. You didn't know each other from anywhere else, had never met anywhere. Actually, you were someone who gave people a chance first to get to know them reasonably, but with Spencer it only took one look before you were sure you definitely didn't like him. Was it his aura? His charisma? His constant need to be smarter than everyone else?

At first, the two of you had been holding back. You had been professional with each other, staying out of each other's way as much as possible and not exchanging more words than necessary. Everything had been fine until one day something slipped out of Spencer's mouth. The team had been sitting in the conference room discussing the latest case. You had said something about the murder weapon when Spencer had rolled his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you had asked him, annoyed. Spencer sat up straight in his chair and grabbed the crime scene photo.

"I've never heard anything so stupid," he said, looking at you with amusement.

"Excuse me?"

"Stop it," Hotch intervened. "We don't have time for bitching. JJ, inform the department we're on our way. Wheels up in thirty."

From that moment on, there was no turning back. You tried to belittle each other, but Hotch had forbidden you to relate it to work. Teasing and mean statements were allowed, but you were not allowed to get in the way of your work. And the most important thing: no arguing in front of outsiders. The team was used to it, but if others got wind of it, it would undermine your authority. So you had to pull yourselves together at times. Which was no problem.

Once inside the police department, Hotch divided the team. "Y/L/N, Reid, you'll go to the crime scene and examine the house for any abnormalities that might indicate motive," he said, and you looked at each other with disgust in your eyes. Hotch cleared his throat and gave you a look that said, "Get your act together or I'll send you home."

On the way to the scene, the radio was playing and you hummed the tune contentedly. You almost forgot who you were in the car with if Spencer hadn't suddenly turned off the radio. You made an annoyed noise.

"I wanted to hear that."

"I know," Spencer grinned, glancing at you briefly before looking out the window again. "And that's why I turned it off."

Sometimes you could strangle him.

The house was pretty run down from the outside. Spencer and you looked at each other. "If I had to hide your body somewhere, it would be right here," you grinned, walking toward the front door.

"I won't give you the satisfaction of killing me," he said, his mouth twisting into a crooked smile. "My death should have meaning. I'm not going to let someone like you kill me over that."

The interior of the house was in complete contrast to the exterior. Every room was cleaned and tidy, there was not a speck of dust anywhere, and the way magazines, pictures, and other decorations had been laid down indicated -.

"OCD," Spencer noted. "Look, Y/N. The magazines all have the same number of pages, the picture frames on the windowsill are all the same distance apart, and -" , he opened a cabinet in the kitchen, "the handles on the cups all point in the same direction."

"So the person has damage like yours," you said, surveying the pictures in the hallway. Luckily there were only two of you, or you would have had to stifle the comment.

"Ha. Ha. I don't have OCD."

"You still have some damage. Forensics said traces of bleach were found throughout the house," you added to his insight, walking down the hall. "The unsub cleaned and left everything like this."

"And how would you know that?" asked Spencer, who had followed you. In the ceiling in the hallway was the hatch that led you to the attic.

"The pictures in the hallway are not of the victim. They're printed photos of people from the Internet. There is no connection." You climbed the ladder and what awaited you there did not surprise you. The attic was filled with junk. It seemed like everything had just been shoved in. But again, there was not a woolly mouse to be seen.

"Apparently, the unsub places a lot of importance on maintaining the appearance of orderly, clean living."

You nodded at him and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. "Garcia, please search for wealthy families where children have been hospitalized with broken bones, hematomas or other injuries," you said, and Spencer snatched the phone from your hand. Annoyed, you looked at him.

"Equate that to sports injuries again, please. Thank you," he asked her before hanging up and tossing you the phone.

"Sports injuries?" you asked him, and he nodded.

"No parents would take their child to the hospital with injuries like that without an explanation. Sports injury is a good way to disguise something like that," he explained and you left the loft. When you got back into the car, you looked at him.

"If you snatch that phone out of my hand again, you'll be the next one with a slit throat," you smiled sweetly at him.

Spencer laughed out loud. "You grow a few more inches first, then maybe you can get to my throat."

Back at the precinct, the team profiled him and shared it with detectives. The plan was to lure him out of hiding and hope he would say or do something so you could arrest him.

"Bailey is targeting young couples in their twenties and thirties who are still in the early stages of their lives. They all moved in together a few days before they died. They were all very messy, which showed not only in their apartment, but also in their style of dress," Rossi explained.

"That's why two of our team will go undercover to draw him out," Hotch continued, giving Spencer and you a meaningful look. You knew what that meant. And you weren't in the mood for that. "Agent Y/L/N and Doctor Reid will be moving into a house on the outskirts of town, in the exact area where the last victim was found. Since he likes to return to the scene of his crime, he'll take notice."

"And then what do we do?" the sheriff asked, writing diligently.

"He'll show up a few days later and then we can go get him," Emily brought the conversation to a close and the group broke up. Hotch motioned Spencer and you to come with him to an adjoining room.

"I blindsided you with the proposal, and for that I'm sorry," he said, looking from Spencer to you, "but I'm afraid we have no choice. Tomorrow morning you'll move into the house and then it's only a matter of time before he comes. Just a few days. And until then, please try not to kill each other."

Spencer and you had been sitting together all night, working out a plan. Not only did you have to pretend to be a happy couple in front of others, you had to pretend behind closed doors. And that certainly wasn't going to be easy.

"Spencer, I'm only going to ask you this once," you began. "Are you okay with me touching you? Otherwise, we'll have to figure something else out. You can't flinch when I reach for your hand or give you a kiss on the cheek, even if I don't want to do that myself."

"I can handle that," he grinned. "As long as you promise not to snuggle up to me in your sleep. Because then I'll have to vomit."

Hotch was pretty happy with your plan and wished you good luck. He didn't want to bug the house because you still needed privacy, but the whole team was on speed dial. Besides, the others would take turns watching you. You weren't afraid, but knowing the others were always there calmed you down a bit.

The next morning, Spencer and you drove to your house. It looked a lot like the last victim's house. One story and an attic, the front yard hadn't been tended in ages. Spencer parked the car in the driveway and got out first so he could open the door for you like a gentleman.

"Are you ready for our new life?" he smiled, pulling you into his arms before you headed toward the door. His perfume was so strong it clouded your mind.

"With you, I'm ready for anything," you returned, placing your lips on his cheek.

Living with Spencer was more pleasant than you had imagined. You spent most of your time together in silence, Spencer with a book and you with music or magazines. You didn't avoid each other either, but spent every second together. Spencer always helped you cook and you helped him do laundry. You even went shopping together. There were little spats in between, but otherwise you got along fine.

You also noticed some things about Spencer that had completely escaped your attention until now. For example, he always had several books lying next to him when he read one. Which made sense if he finished one of them within ten minutes. Also, he would always mouth off a little when he was talking about something that was bothering him. And when he was talking about something he liked, he spoke with an incredible passion that was contagious.

What surprised you the most was sleeping next to each other. Since you also had to pretend to be overjoyed at home, you had also planned to share a bed. It was the most sensible and the easiest. Spencer's presence even calmed you down when you woke up in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream, and his regular breathing in the evening helped you fall asleep.

On the fourth night, a nightmare jolted you from sleep. You didn't remember what exactly you had dreamed, but you knew that you wouldn't fall asleep again so quickly. As quietly as you could, you got out of bed, not wanting to wake Spencer, and went to the kitchen. You flipped on the light over the stove, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. After a big gulp, you felt better, but still worried. Tired, you leaned against the counter and rubbed your hand over your face.

"Are you alright?" asked Spencer, entering the kitchen. He was wearing a loose T-shirt and boxers. Something you hadn't noticed before.

"I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry," you said honestly, putting the glass in the sink. Spencer just smiled, "I had a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, standing next to you, you shook your head. "Okay." He was about to head back toward the bedroom, but stopped in the doorway. Spencer looked at you and you smiled weakly. He approached you again and reached for your hand. Carefully he pulled you to him and put his free hand on your lower back to press you closer to him. You laid your head against his chest and could hear his heartbeat. Then Spencer slowly rocked back and forth.

No one said a word as you danced with each other in the kitchen in the middle of the night. You enjoyed each other's presence and warmth. Spencer put a finger under your chin and made you look at him. There was no hate or dislike in his eyes. There was a twinkle in them that confused you greatly. Gently, he placed his lips on your forehead before pulling away.

"Let's go back to sleep," he smiled, pulling you by the hand back into the bedroom. In bed, he reached his arms out to you so you could lay your head on his chest. There it was again, his heartbeat. But this time it was faster, steady, but faster. Spencer reached for your hand again and intertwined your fingers. "Sleep well, Y/N," he was still whispering, but you were barely aware of it. You had never fallen asleep so quickly.

The next day, the two of you went for a walk in the evening. Spencer's hand in yours no longer felt strange, but very familiar. The whole relationship between you had changed fundamentally. There was no more bitching, no more evil glances, no more spiteful laughter. You wondered if it would stay that way when you left the house, or if you would go back to your old ways. Secretly, you hoped that you would remain friends when all this was over. Even though you had only been here a short time, you had actually grown fond of Spencer. You just hoped he felt the same way about you.

"Y/N," Spencer whispered when you reached your street.

"Huh?" You looked up at him and he smiled lovingly at you. You would never get enough of that look.

"Please look at me when I tell you this now. There's a man walking across the street, right at our level, with his hood pulled over his head," he continued to whisper and I tried not to let on. "He's been following us for two blocks. I think it's him."

I nodded. "We need to show him that we are to be his next victims," you stated. When you arrived at your house, Spencer pulled you even closer. You knew what was coming. You didn't resist, and not because it was part of your plan, but because you were waiting for it.

Spencer put his hands to your cheeks and leaned down to put his lips on yours. Your heart started racing, your knees went weak, and you felt dizzy. If Spencer hadn't been holding you, you would have slipped through his fingers. His lips were soft and warm and when you kissed him back, a grumble sounded from his chest. One of his hands moved to your butt, pressing your hips against his as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You felt hot and warm shivers ran down your spine. You tried not to think about the fact that you could feel his erection against your belly, but failed miserably.

With his other hand, Spencer reached for the key and opened the door without breaking away from you, then pushed you into the house where he could have pulled away from you, but he didn't. His kisses grew hungrier and greedier, his hands reaching under your butt so he could lift you up. Your legs knotted behind him. He carried you toward the bedroom and pressed you against the wall. You rubbed your hips against his and he moaned into your mouth.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, sliding a hand under your shirt. His fingers danced over your bare skin and his touch burned into your skin. You wished this moment would never end.

"Cameron Bailey, put the knife down and raise your hands," Derek called out. Spencer and you jumped apart, completely confused and gasping for air, and saw the team standing in your bedroom. Derek took Bailey into custody and led him away. How had you not noticed that he had come into the house?

"Are you all right?" asked Emily, but you could only nod. What would have happened if Bailey hadn't broken in? How far would Spencer and you have gone?

It wasn't long before the team was back on the plane. Spencer sat alone at one end of the plane and you at the other. You hadn't had time to talk about what had happened, because after Bailey was arrested, you had packed your things and gone to the airport with the others. But what did you want to talk about? About the kiss? About the touch? About your friendship, if you could call it that? Never in your life had you been so uncertain as at that moment.

Spencer probably didn't want anything more to do with you, and you tried to tell yourself that you were okay with that. You tried to adjust to things going back to the way they were. It scared you that deep down you cared. You had hated Spencer for years and just a few days with him had completely turned your feelings upside down. And that bothered you the most.

"I could use a beer right now," Derek said when you arrived at Quantico. "Anyone coming?"

"I'm going home," you replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "My shower is waiting for me and my bed is calling for me too."

"Same here," Spencer gave and together you walked to the elevator while the others talked about where to go to celebrate. The silence between Spencer and you was unbearable, both outside the elevator and inside. You wanted to say something, but couldn't manage more than a guarded smile, which he kindly returned. At least no more bitching.

"Good night, Y/N," he said goodbye and left without turning around once more. You took a deep breath and headed home as well.

Once home, you dropped your bag on the floor and tried to wash off Spencer's touch in the shower. You brushed your teeth to scrub his taste from your tongue, but nothing could chase away the thoughts that haunted your mind. You put on fresh panties and an oversized shirt, which ended just below your butt. You were on your way to the couch when there was a knock on your door.

Without hesitation you opened the door and your heart stopped. Spencer stood in front of you, hands buried in his pockets and a small smile on his lips. "Hi."

"Hey," you said softly, and you didn't realize until then that you were standing in front of him half-naked. Embarrassed, you pulled the hem of your shirt down further. He glanced briefly at your hands and blushed before looking you in the eye again.

"I know this probably sounds stupid, but I don't know if I'll be able to sleep alone tonight. I've gotten used to sleeping next to you and after today, I don't think either of us should spend the night alone," he babbled, entering your apartment without prompting. You shut the door behind him. "Besides, there's something I wanted to do." Carefully he put his bag on the kitchen counter and came towards you with long steps.

It was not five seconds before he pressed his mouth on yours and a sigh came out of your mouth. His hands were everywhere and nowhere at the same time, so greedily they moved over your body, while yours got caught in his hair. When his fingers grazed your bare skin on your legs, you slumped against him.

"I didn't want to let you go home alone," he whispered between kisses, looking deep into your eyes. "I didn't want to sit so far away from you on the plane either, and when I got home, all I wanted was to be with you." His tongue dominated yours as his hands slid under your shirt. Your skin burned like fire where he touched you. "Tell me to stop, Y/N. Please tell me to stop and leave. Because if you don't do it now, I'll stay forever."

You went to kiss him, but he broke away from you and grabbed your chin with one hand, making you look at him. He was expecting a response. "Stay, Spencer. Stay forever and I'm yours."

That's all the confirmation he needed. His hands were on your hips again, but moved further down to briefly stroke your ass before leaning down and grabbing the back of your thighs. Without effort, he lifted you up and his lips assaulted your neck, and as he sucked on the soft spot where your jaw met your neck, all you could do was whimper his name.

Spencer carried you into your bedroom with ease, his mouth never leaving your heated skin. The warmth in your body grew with each kiss as he gently laid you on the bed. You pushed yourself to the head of the bed, allowing your head to rest on the soft pillow as Spencers hovered over you to kiss your neck.

His lips moved to your collarbone, his hands slid under your shirt and you arched up to meet him so he could easily pull it off. Hastily you reached for his shirt and undid the buttons to rip it from his torso. His weight was heavy on you and his hot skin almost burned you with every further touch. Without a word, you unbuttoned his pants and he kicked them off his long legs. For a brief moment you looked at each other. In that look were all the apologies you wanted to say, but that was no longer important. What was important was the man in front of you, the man you had fallen head over heels in love with in just a few days.

You put your hands on Spencer's back and felt the muscles dancing under your fingers. You took a quick glance at his black boxer briefs, which already seemed a little too tight for him.

"God, you're beautiful," he moaned as he glanced down your body. His hands were on your breasts and he rolled your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Again, you arched up to meet him.

"Spencer," you moaned, "no teasing. Please," you begged, closing your eyes to feel his touch more intensely. When you opened your eyes again, you could see a crooked grin on his face. He was enjoying your begging. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your panties and you could hear him ripping them. Cool air met your hot core and Spencer's boxers landed on the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You had to swallow. He was long and surprisingly thick and you wondered if he would fit. Spencer looked at you silently with raised eyebrows.

"I'm on the pill," you explained, grabbing his shaft with your hand and running your thumb over the tip to smear the pre-cum, making him moan with pleasure. You pumped him two times before Spencer grabbed your wrist.

"I won't last long if you keep this up, love," he rasped, guiding his pulsing erection to your wet entrance. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him so close to you that there wasn't an inch between you. He looked at you one more time, searching for something in your face, but you just smiled at him, drunk with love. And then he glided home.

His cock was stretching you like no man before did and it almost hurt, but with the pain came the pleasure. Spencer rested his forehead on yours and his breath was hot on your skin. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You leaned into his gentle touch.

"Move, please, Spence," you purred, and that was all he needed. He withdrew almost completely from you before thrusting into you again. He quickly found a steady pace and his length stroked all the right places. The heat between your thighs spiraled in your belly and you dug your nails into Spencer's back.

"Spencer, fuck," you breathed and he grinned before pressing his lips to your throat and gently biting your collarbone. Before you knew it, he was sliding his hand between your bodies and rubbing furiously over your clit and it was all getting too much for you.

Your nails raked across his skin and certainly left a few marks on as you climaxed and your vision went black.You spasmed around his cock and felt it twitch inside you. Spencer moaned a mixture of swear words and your name as he coated your walls with his cum, his fingers digging into your hips and probably bruising them.

He placed his lips on yours one last time before carefully pulling out of you and disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. "Careful, love," he says softly, running it along between your legs to wipe your mingled cum. When he touched your sensitive clit, you flinched involuntarily. He returned the washcloth to the bathroom before lying back down with you. He pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. "Can I tell you something?" he breathed, you looked up at him quite exhausted.

"Of course."

He smiled lovingly. "I've fallen head over heels in love with you in the last few days," he confessed and your heart stopped. "The moment you laid your head on my chest in bed. You turned my whole world upside down and I can't imagine spending a single day without you anymore."

"You don't have to," you replied, putting your hand to the back of his head so you could pull him down to you. Gently you placed your lips on his and you felt his cock twitch against your belly. That's how strong your effect on him was. "I love you, Spencer."

In one fluid motion, he rolled onto you and pressed his mouth onto yours. This kiss was like the one in the house, angry, hungry and greedy. His hand slid between your legs and his fingers gently circled your clit. Your legs twitched and he pushed further down so he was eye level with your cunt. Gently he slid two fingers inside you and you moaned loudly. "I love you, Y/N. Don’t you dare forget it, when I make you scream and cum around my tounge.“ He licked long stripe from your entrance to your clit and gently sucking on it. Your body shook under his tounge and touch, as he slipped to fingers into your dripping cunt again. „Are you ready for round two?"

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one hot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #enemies to lovers #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #Jennifer jereau #dave rossi

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moondustis · 3 years

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on the way (m)

pairing: seo johnny + reader genre: angst, smut | word count: 10k summary: “There’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.” or A love story told in 5 acts.

a/n: hello! yes, finally a new fic and yes it is college!au with a hint of fwb. i have been writing this for around 4 months now and i haven’t read some parts in awhile so it’s probably all around the place. if something doesn’t make a lot of sense, well... it is what it is lol. but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!

act 1: messy affairs

See, there’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.

It’s a friday night, just like any other that happens after a mixture of weekly stress and the weird need to let it all out. It’s common, routine even, how you apply your makeup, pick your best outfit and scroll mindlessly through tinder in wait for your friends to arrive for a pre-game. It's common but not that usual, at least not until recently.

Your last year of college had brought a lot of feelings that you didn't think you were ready to deal with yet. A nostalgia that arrived too soon, when you would catch yourself thinking that a moment shared with roommates would be the last one. An uncertainty of the future and a constant stress between writing a thesis that somehow is supposed to summarize the entirety of the knowledge you had gotten in the last year.

And lastly, the reason why you're doing this: the unwavering fear that your life is just about to start. The same feeling you got when college just started, of freedom and new beginnings. But now, instead of the excitement and thrill, it's replaced by anxiety and the heavy weight of adulthood about to start. That's why you look into the mirror, again, applying your lip gloss with the screen of your phone still illuminated by a picture of a person just waiting to be swiped left or right. You just need to have fun, like you never will again.

It's that a too harsh way to start this? Well, back to Seo Johnny.

It's a friday night and your friends arrive, flavored vodka in hand, the cheap kind that tastes like it's not alcoholic at all. A shot for each and then you are all laughing and joking to pass time.

"Why do we have to pre game? I'm sure there will be plenty to drink." Sarah, a blonde girl with friendly cheeks asks. She tips the shot on her hand back anyway, despite the question.

"Hell no I'm not going to drink frat booze again, they are cheap." Ela, tall and smart and majoring is Social Politics, says.

You hum and Sarah asks "And we are not?"

"No, we have our dear friend making us drinks." Ela gestures wildly at Nicole, the bartender of the night who's wearing a dress that only battles your own in the matters of shortness. "We are fancy."

"She's mixing vodka with sprite." These statements make you laugh loudly.

Tinder is just a distraction as you all sit on the couch, a good way to find an easy date for the night and when the he in question shows up, a black and white picture on the illuminated screen of your phone, it earns a shriek from your friends that go on and on about how hot he looks.

"You should swipe right." Ela says, eyebrows dancing but you don't see it because you're busy rolling your eyes at your phone. Johnny stares at you.

"He's my friend." You say as if it's obvious but it's really not. The word friend feels a little weird in your mouth but how else could you describe it? College was good for you in the social aspect, you have a lot of friends, people you talk to in class, or that you meet at parties because you ran in the same circles. It usually doesn't go deeper than that, than a blunt shared or a joke about a teacher, but that's friendship anyway you conclude.

And Johnny , well, he was someone you knew, not well, but sometimes he would text you a joke that made you laugh, ask for help with an assignment, talk to you about anything during a party. He was fun, a friend, and an acquaintance. Whatever, that didn't matter and honestly neither did the way you met, through a mutual friend at a kickback. It was that and nothing more.

"Please, he flirts with you every chance he gets." Ela rolls her eyes right back at you.

"He flirts with anyone, I think." You argue, because it's true. Johnny is one of those people that just have this aura to them, that can make anyone interested with just a few words. He's naturally flirty, that's something easy to point out.

"Well he's hot." That too.

"True." Nicole says and it earns a deep sigh from you.

Acting on impulse or peer pressure, you don't know exactly, but you swipe right and then nothing happens. So you shrug and throw your phone away to down another shot.

✿

When you get to the party, it's already absolutely trashed, with freshmen spilling their drinks on the floor as some annoying EDM song blasts loud enough that you’re not very sure the thin windows of this house can handle. Frat parties were always the same, mildly boring and filled with people that didn't know how to act. It often escaped you the reasons why you continued to attend them.

You and your friends dance a little, laughing when the songs change to one that is even worse than the first one. Ela, despite her words from earlier, finds a bottle of vodka and proclaims loudly that a night can never end badly when it starts with shots, a statement you strongly disagree with but you down it anyway when she offers it and then another one just for good measure. Because it’s a friday, you deserve a little fun, right? Right.

Too tired of dancing you had found a place on a couch that was probably too old. Johnny finds you there when the shots just start to hit and you feel bubbly, like you're on a cloud.

"Hey there." He says with a blinding smile and if you weren't out of it you'd probably find it weird that he came to you, because most of the time you talked at parties was because you somehow ended up bumping into each other.

"Hi." You reply, elongating the word more than necessary and it seems to amuse him.

"Why are you sitting here by yourself?" He asks.

"Don't feel like dancing anymore." You say shrugging. "And what are you doing here sitting with me?"

You watch as he laughs slowly and fishes for his phone in his pocket. "See, I wanted to show you something."

It’s endearing, really, even more when his hand starts to wander, fingers barely ghosting your skin as he keeps his gaze glued to your face.

He kisses you deeply, head tilted to the side as he holds you close with both hands on your cheeks and you can’t do anything but let him take control. Is when he sucks on your bottom lip that you have to let out the moan you had been holding, embarrassingly too soon and only urging him on even more as he licks at your lips, asking for entrance that you so gladly give, letting his tongue slide against yours slowly. The feeling of his hands moving to your leg makes your head spin and want for more.

He kisses the breath out of you, quite literally, and you both have to part to catch it back with silly smiles, gasps of air and pecks still being pressed on your lips.

In your drunken haze, you smile when he rests his palm on your naked thigh, squeezing just slightly to test your interest. And you’re crazy, absolutely out of your mind because you show it by parting your legs just a little, just to tease, the smile never leaving your face as he mimics it with a subtle raise of his eyebrow.

And god forgive you for being such a stupid horny girl that just falls gives in so easily, taking Johnny’s wandering hand in yours and dragging him to the closest place you can find, which happens to be someone's bedroom. How nice and polite of you.

There’s not much beating around the bush. He pushes you into the bed, hovering over you and finally kisses you again, with hunger, hands on your neck and tongue sliding against yours in movements that are not shy from being desperate. And you love it, enough to have your mind swimming with the need to have him touch you anywhere that will make you feel good.

When you grip at his hair a little too harshly, he lets out a moan that goes straight to the bubble of arousal on the pit of your stomach. He’s a sight, with puffy lips and hair a mess as he drops to his knees in front of you, something you weren’t exactly expecting but will definitely not complain about.

He looks up at you, hands moving to rest at your thighs and oh, so gently parting them so he can fit in between. “Can I?” You almost die at the voice he asks for your consent in.

You nod, head spinning a little when you move to help him get yours panties off, the offending cotton fabric being thrown somewhere inside this poor person's bedroom.

A couple of things happen afterwards. Johnny parts your legs further, placing a misplaced kiss on your inner thigh. Then he goes for it with a tentative lick, as if testing the waters and just slightly as if he’s a little unsure of himself. You blink slowly in expectation.

“How do you like it?” The question makes you confused until you realize that he’s teasing you, a grin splattered across his face when you groan and try to move your hips but he keeps a grip on your legs.

“Asshole.” You mutter in what sounds more like a whine.

Which is a complete lie, because you’re already shivering in your skin and he knows that by the raise of his eyebrow in defiance. But still, your words spark something and he finally goes for it.

The first press of his tongue flat against you has your hands moving to grip at the bed sheets. He works in a pace that clearly shows that he knows what he’s doing, swirling his tongue a little to tease and then licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit to gather the wetness there.

He kisses your cunt the exact same way he did your lips, messily and desperate with the squelchy noises filling the room and setting your cheeks in heat from embarrassment. You don’t even need the long fingers he adds, slowly and then matching the pace of his sucks.

It’s a very quick orgasm, in the sense that it doesn’t take you half the time you thought it would to happen. He does a little thing with his tongue, flicking your clit and you’re crying out with your body arching from the bed as he continues to eat you out as your body trembles.

“Was I good?” He asks afterwards, words muffled because he’s still pressed against your bare center. He’s grinning, you can see it as well as the wetness that drips on his chin.

You don't reply, instead you push him upwards and kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You can feel his erection press against your hip when he brings you closer and it makes you want more.

He breaks the kiss then, palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb on the other side of your face as he keeps you looking at him. He likes being in control, you have realized that even in this short interaction, and you apparently liked giving it to him.

You shiver when he brushes his thumb on your lips, getting them to part for him. “There you go, open your mouth.” He whispers, eyes glued to it. “Be good."

Parting your lips, you lick at his thumb before you’re sucking it, earning a grunt from him that almost makes you smirk. You put on a show, trying to get him as worked up as you are, your eyes not leaving his face.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He mutters, pressing his thumb on your tongue and you moan a little over it. “You want my cock on your mouth?”

You nod, smiling as he removes his wet finger from your mouth. “Yes.” Your voice is breathless, eyes glassy as you stare at him.

That earns you a smile and you feel a little pride in your chest. “That’s a good girl.” He taps your face. “Get on your knees then, baby. If you want it so bad.”

You do, positioning yourself in the middle of his parted thighs when he sits down on the bed and your mouth almost waters from anticipation.

Lifting his shirt a bit, you start by pressing kisses to his navel and he lets out a deep breath. Reaching down to unbutton his pants, you help him pull them down alongside his boxers and the sight of him hard for you is what really makes your mouth water. He's big in a way that you're sure you won't be able to fit it all inside without putting in some work.

You tease him just a little bit, placing just the small kiss at the tip before licking it slowly. He’s far less patient then you are, hand immediately moving to grip your hair. “Put it in, baby, don’t be bad for me now.”

Parting your lips, you put him in your mouth, going as far as you can go, wrapping your hand on what you can’t reach. He moans lowly, curses falling from his lips.

He lets his head fall back when you swirl your tongue around, bobbing your head slowly the way he likes. “That’s it, baby. Takin’ me so well.” You hum around him, earning yourself another moan.

You try to get him as far as you can, swallowing when you reach your limit and he grips your hair tighter. You can feel him pulsing inside your mouth and it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

He comes on your face, painting your cheeks and making you gasp a little in shock. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He mumbles, quick to search for something to clean you up with.

"It 's okay." You say, throat feeling sore and you try not to think about how that was the first time that ever happened for too long. "I liked it."

That makes him give you a look, and then he's saying with a laugh "You'll be the death of me."

act 2: ungodly hour

Maybe the fact that nothing really changes should be a sign by itself.

Johnny still nods to you when you pass by him around campus, and still asks you to ‘help a guy out’ by sending him pictures of your notes like you guys are nothing but good almost-friends. Because, well, that’s what you are and that’s good enough for you.

His face stays there on your tinder matches, no acknowledgement of it beyond his stupid joke back at the party happens and the only reminder you have of that night is the insatiable thoughts that cross your mind in the middle of a boring lecture. Because why would you pay attention to whatever your teacher is saying when you could remind bit by bit of how Johnny fucked you on his tiny dorm room, while maintaining a resting face.

Weirdly those memories don't hit you the next time you see him, because you’re too busy thinking about strawberry milkshake.

The line behind you is not even that big, considering it’s 3am and most drunk college kids prefer to go to the burger king, but the cashier has an annoyed look on his face as your friend slowly reads the menu as if there’s plenty to choose from at a place like Mcdonalds. “Hmm, we’ll have two large fries, a coke and...”

“A strawberry milkshake!” You try to go for whispering but it comes out louder and the cashier just hums.

There's just something about being slightly shit faced at this hour and at this place, that makes it all seem like it's not actually happening. Like you are in a dream that only gets better when the server calls your number and you are sipping on the milkshake you kept on talking about since leaving the club you went on.

Funnily enough, if this was in fact in a dream, it wouldn't be the first time Johnny showed up on one of yours.

He's sitting in a booth by himself, scrolling at his phone. His hair is pushed back by a snapback and your mind twirls for a second with the thought that he looks too good for someone who's here in an hour like this.

Maybe it's the remnants of alcohol still buzzing on your system. Or maybe it is the fact that you seem to have been losing your self consciousness more and more these days. Whatever it is, it leads you to the stand in front of Johnny with a smile on your face and your hand freezing from holding the milkshake.

It doesn't take long for him to notice you, a smile that makes you feel warm inside ready on his lips as you take a place right across from him like it was meant for you all this time.

"Hey there." He says, voice playful and you wonder if he had a few drinks himself before coming here. He must have had. "What's up?"

You shrug, a smile painting your own lips. "Nothing much." You say and for some reason you feel silly, in a way that makes you want to scream a little from excitement. Like a teenage girl with a crush. "Strawberry milkshake. You want some?"

Johnny laughs a little when you offer him the cup with the slightly bitten straw. "No, thank you. But it looks good."

"It is." You smile with lips closed around it.

For a moment, but not an uncomfortable one, you two just stare at each other. The sweet taste of your drinks fills your mind and makes you feel a little less dizzier.

"Had fun night?"

"Hmm, not really. Sorority parties suck." He nods in agreement. Most parties sucked anyway, that's why everyone had to get so wasted to be able to enjoy it while the high lasted. You liked feeling pretty after getting ready more than the whole rest of it. "What were you up to?"

"Got to DJ at this party with Mark, it was nice." He says it like it was no big deal, like it was something he did every other day. You had never actually seen Johnny play before, but from the way his instagram page was filled with posts about it and links to soundcloud songs, anyone could figure out it was at least a bit important to him.

You found it weird, that you didn't know much about this or anything else about Johnny besides what he would let you know. And vice versa. But at the same time it's nice getting to know it bit by bit, without a rush.

"That's really cool." Your voice is a little more excited than you expected it to be. "I really wanna see you play someday."

"Sure." He smiles sideways. Bashfulness doesn't really suit him. "I'll let you know the next time."

You nod, then you share a look. Someone screams at their friend about something you don't really care about because you're too busy watching Johnny as he watches you finish your milkshake. Is it chemistry that people call this? Because there is nothing very appealing about the drink you're having, or about the white light at this place, but there's tension in the way you can't really look away.

He looks like he wants to laugh but is too scared to break whatever is happening. You finish your milkshake with one last swallow of artificial sweetener and lick your lips. He finally breaks.

"Stop looking at me like that." He says it in a way that suggests something that it's already as clear as water.

You bat your eyelashes. "Like what exactly?"

He laughs, sweet and deep, then raises one eyebrow in challenge. "Like you want me to fuck you in the middle of this mcdonalds."

The scandalousness of the statement makes you laugh too, your words sounding half joke half true between smiles. "Well, maybe I want to."

"You don't really strike me as the type." He says it like he's unsure of it, like in the back of his mind he could actually believe you would do something as shocking as that. Truth be told, you don't even know it yourself. There's not a lot you have done when it comes to this and sometimes you even think back to him coming on your face, like it is the wildest thing that has ever happened.

"I could be." He raises his eyebrow again, this time not as a challenge but as genuine curiosity. You would like to know whether that is true or false as well.

Deep down you know that there are not many things you wouldn't let a guy like Johnny do to you.

He laughs, then pauses for a second and taps his fingers on the table as if looking for something to say. "You should let me take you out someday." Is what he decides on.

For some reason you don't think much of that at the moment. "You gotta take someone out before fucking them in public place?" You continue the joke, earning a low laugh and a head shake.

"I'm being serious."

How serious can someone really be at 4am with some alcohol on their system. This time you are the one raising your eyebrows, in pure doubt. He doesn't seem like the type who dates girls they fucked at a party once, or the type who dates girls like you. But thinking about it you don't really know what type of person Johnny is. Or what kind of girl you really are.

You click your teeth before smiling. "We'll see about that."

act 2: la petit mort

It’s not a text you get but instead a facebook invitation. It makes you laugh because men are truly all the same. Liking an old instagram picture, reacting with an emoji to something you post on stories. Never a message being straightforward, it’s like they are all physically incapable of that. You wonder if it’s because of fearing rejection.

See, dating it's not really your thing, never has been and the proof can be found in your few failed attempts. It just made you nervous, constantly on edge because it always involved a lot of confusing moments, of not knowing where it's going or what the other person is thinking. People are usually bad at the most important thing when it comes to this, communication. And you hated to be either on the side of conflict or of creating expectations too early.

But Johnny, well, he has got you interested. In a way that’s dangerous because it doesn’t happen very often, at least not with someone who seems interested as well or even the slightest bit possible.

And danger is not your area of expertise, not as of lately, but still you click on the green button and when saturday comes you’re walking inside a very underground party outside of campus.

You know it's the right place because there's some people outside smoking and the door is slightly open. You walk inside the two floor flat, the small bottle of wine you had brought shaking a little in your bag while you pass some people.

There's music playing but the sound of conversations is louder than that. The scent filling the room is undeniably familiar and it makes you wonder if there's a least one sober person in the room at the moment. You had been to parties like this before, not nearly as loud as the ones that happened on campus and with a lot less people. An amount that by the end of the night will have shrunk and the ones left will gather around the very old looking couch, share one last blunt and say unnecessary deep things and profess their deep affections for each other.

They were fun parties.

You don't talk to anyone because no one really attempts to talk to you first. That's just how you worked, social interactions never came as easy as it seemed to other people. You usually waited for people to approach and if they were nice you would cling to them. Sometimes you even practiced smiling in the foggy mirror after you showered. You practiced saying an icebreaker, smiling fakely after it, but you never really put it in practice.

You see Johnny before he sees you, surrounded by two boys that look particularly close. He looks effortlessly good, like he always does, with a black sweatshirt and light blue jeans. It makes you want to go there and hold his hand, lean against his chest, feel him loom above you and then kiss him in front of everyone as if it was normal, as if it meant nothing. You got this feeling a lot.

When he sees you he smiles big and makes his way to you with long and quick steps that don't take longer than three blinks from you.

"I thought you were going to DJ tonight." You say when he reaches you holding a bottle of beer.

He shrugs, standing very close to you now. "Nah, this is not that kind of party."

His eyes stay glued to you and you fight the urge to fix your hair. You wonder if he thinks you look good on the dress you chose.

"Hmm, it's not the kind of party I thought I would ever see you on." You point out, looking around as someone screams asking for them to play some song by an artist you don't know.

"To be honest this is much more my scene." He explains and this small piece of information he gives you about what he's really like makes you feel giddy for some reason. "The only reason I go to frat parties is because of Jaehyun."

Jaehyun was a dude that played on the football team and looked too good for his own good. Him and Johnny were always together, like they would break if someone separated them. "So that's who you got this weird frat boy aura you got from."

He laughs loudly. "Sure. But what about you? What's your scene?"

You pretend to think for a while. "I don't really know. I like very specific things that I only know I'm actually enjoying at the moment." It's a pretentious reply that you hope he finds funny.

He seems amused by it. "So, a moment type of girl."

He takes a sip of his beer and you take that moment to get the bottle of wine out of your bag. He laughs at it, as if the thought of you carrying wine around is very funny to him.

"Sure." You take a sip of your own. "You seem very keen on figuring out what kind of girl I am."

You enhance your question by raising your eyebrows as he starts leading you to a small empty couch. "Well, you're mysterious so I got to work with what I get." He says while sitting down and you follow, laughing because the last thing you would consider yourself is mysterious in any way.

"Trust me, you would get a lot more information if you just asked."

He nods, doing a whole scene of thinking of something to ask. "Ok then, why psychology?"

You almost laugh at the question because does anyone actually know why they chose their major? "I guess I like that the mind is the only thing that can understand itself." You say it in a pompous way so he knows you are not really that serious about that. "What about you? Why did you choose business?"

He looks forwards and moves as if to get more comfortable on the couch. It makes him get closer to you and your legs touch. "I don't know. Money, status, easier to get a job later on."

That makes you snort. "I don't think right now getting a job is easy in any area." You pause to drink some and then say, "You don't seem like someone who cares about those things, anyway."

He laughs just a little. "My parents do."

By his voice you can tell he doesn't really want to talk about that. Not right now at least.

"Well, at least when you are a famous dj the gossip magazines will be able to mention that you got a business degree you never used."

He leans into you when he laughs.

✿

The rest of the party is fun. You meet some of Johnny's friends that are too high to keep an actual conversation but are fun enough that you have a good time.

Johnny makes you laugh a lot and by the time you finish your wine you feel more drunk in his presence than on the alcohol itself.

There’s just something about Johnny’s presence that makes your legs go a little weak and your heart beat just a little faster, like you have a silly crush. He’s just funny, in a way that comes natural to him, and he makes you feel special, seeming interested in the things you say in a way that has your heart swoon. And on top of all that, like he couldn’t get any more perfect, he’s a whole 6’0 of man, all broad shoulders and always looking down at you with cute smiles.

It doesn't take you two long to reach his dorm, or for you to get on his bed. And when it’s like this, with him hovering over you, thrusting into you in a pace that has you seeing stars, the effect he has on you becomes painfully obvious.

It’s kind of embarrassing, really, how having him on top of you makes you feel so small and safe. How him hitting so deep inside when he gives you a sharp movement of his hips turns your inside into jelly. And all you can do in return is look up at him with glossy eyes and parted lips.

“God, I dreamed of fucking you.” He knows what he’s doing. Even worse, knows how to get to you with just a few words. “Do you like it, baby?” He asks, voice hoarse and lips turning into a barely not there smirk.

“Huh?” Is what you can reply with because you’re way out of it to make sense of his words. It just makes his smirk grow wider, hands moving to grip at your thighs so he can get your legs to open wider.

When he fucks into you faster, his cock hitting the spot that has you absolutely and completely losing your mind, he tries again. “Do you like how — Fuck— How big I feel?” His words are barely a groan from being just affected as you are. He sounds cocky but in a way that makes your eyes cross.

And you nod, enthusiastically so, because you do. It makes you shy, saying it out loud, but he seems well aware how much you love having him inside of you, the feeling of being full, the only thing that swims around your mind.

“Hmm, can you feel me here?” This time the question is accompanied by his palm on your lower belly, where a hint of a bulge forms when he gives you a deep thrust.

“Y-Yes.” You practically wail, body tingling from being so close. “You feel so —- Ughnnn.”

His chuckle is a mix of laughter and a moan, his lips coming down on yours in a kiss that’s as messy as it is desperate. “Are you shy, hmm? C-Can’t even say you like my cock inside of you.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ah. I like it. I like it so much.”

He groans deep in his chest, hips still working. “You’ll drive me crazy one day, know that?"

What he doesn’t say but you know it’s true, it’s that he likes it as much as you do.

✿

What it becomes, is something you don't know exactly how to describe. All you know is that you spend a lot of time in Johnny's dorm these days. So much that you decorated every detail from it, from the fancy music equipment to the posters on the wall.

He fucks you in every way possible and it's weird that someone could know exactly how to please you, how to get you screaming. And then the two of you talk for hours, something putting on something to watch on his notebook while sharing ice cream, other times just laying down in silence until you fall asleep.

It's something you're not quite sure to navigate. How easy it feels when you are with him, and how right it feels. You two navigate this uncertain thing very smoothly and the need to put a name to it, asking the 'what are we' question escapes you often.

Right now you two lay down on his small bed, bare legs touching and the thin sheet on top of you barely covers anything. It was a rare thing to feel this comfortable with someone.

He's talking about something his mother said to him on the phone, about drinking green tea and you just listen, enjoying the sound of his voice until he stops and looks down at you with a small smile.

"Every time I talk about my parents you get this look." He says and you make a weird face at him.

"No I don't." You defend yourself and he chuckles.

"You do." He accuses. "Are you analyzing my parental relationship?"

You scoff, turning around to face him better. "No. I'm just friendly, feeling sorrow because of the fact you didn't get to choose what to study."

He looks back at you, looking soft with the late afternoon peeking in from his half closed window. "It's fine, really. I can study engine sound later on, there's no expiration. Besides, they did so much for me this is the least I can do."

You fight the urge to point out that he doesn't really owe them anything. It was hard sometimes to make sense of the way other people navigated their parental relationships. So all you say is a small "Yeah…"

"What about your parents? What are they like?"

"I don't know. They are divorced, so I haven't really talked to my father in a while." You hope he doesn't see this as weird. Every time he talks about his family they seem so normal, that it makes you envy him a bit. You always think that if you talk about your parents, people will think you're somehow messed up because of it, so you always keep it short. Johnny doesn't seem to mind it. "My mom is cool, I guess. She's funny."

He hums "I would like to meet her someday." It sounds like a bold statement. Something that means something, but he says with an ease that makes the thought of it seem pleasant. You realize you would like that to happen as well.

"She would like you." Is what you say with as much ease as he did.

A comfortable silence feels the room then, with only the low sound of the fan turning filling your ears. You don't think about how the room smells like sex, or about how summer is approaching and you'll probably not be able to see each other for a while.

"Are you going home for the summer?" You decide to ask.

He turns to look at you again. "Yeah, what about you?"

"I'm gonna start my internship. Work on my thesis." You had talked about both these things before, how important they were for you and the mention of it makes him smile.

"That's really nice." He says and you give him a tiny smile.

You swallow a lump in your throat then, the 2 months you'll stay apart hitting you and you just let the words escape your mouth. "I'm gonna miss you. Really."

He says it back by kissing you, softly and then with meaning. It happens naturally after that, like there wasn't anything else that made more sense than being as close to each other as possible right now.

When he enters you, you look up at him in what you think is awe. Your eyes hazy, barely able to keep open and lips parting in yet another moan.

It’s a nice view, in your defense, of Johnny hovering over you, looking so big as he fucks you so well you’re sure your second orgasm of the night is already approaching. You’re not embarrassed to say that most of the times this happens you go a little dumb in the head, your mind swimming in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.

“Oh, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He’s always proud of being able to get you like this, to be the only one who does so.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Good?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come.

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you on the brink of your release. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again.

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally coming inside of the condom.

“You look so pretty like this.” He’ll say afterwards when he’s still inside of you, too lazy to move as you brush the hair out of his face.

And you’ll smile, in the way he seems to like so much, and say “You look pretty all the time” just to get him to smile at you.

act 3: yellow light (hit the brakes)

The rain was predictable. It had been raining every other day the entire month, on your way to work early in the morning you always ended up stepping on a pool and ruining your entire day because of your wet socks.

Not a lot of the people you knew had a car, or would willing to go out of their way to give you a lift. Your finger had hovered on top of Johnny’s contact for a while, not out of confidence that he would help you because you knew he would. But you hadn't really talked since summer started. There were random interactions, like replying to one of his instagram stories commenting on how intelectual posting pictures at The Louvre made him look and him making a joke about it or sharing a trivia about french people.

Besides, bothering people made you uncomfortable, as if that somehow put you in debt and in a state of vulnerability with the person.

But Johnny doesn’t look like he’s going to hold a grudge against you over a lift. Instead, when you apologize for making him come all the way there, he says “I was in the area anyway.”

Which you doubt, but you don’t say anything so you just smile and thank him again.

It's somehow weird that you don't even expect him to mention what happened last term. You fight the urge to say it out loud, mention a small detail about the whole thing just for him to laugh and somehow confirm to you that it really happened. It scared you sometimes how things were so momentary, as if life was supposed to be just a collection of things you would remember about and feel sad about.

But it’s easy with Johnny, had been from the start. In a way that makes you think that some people are really meant to meet if only for a moment.

You had expected the casual friendship you had with the other friends you had met at college to fade slowly, which had happened. Without the bond of parties and fun there wasn’t much left there, and that was fine, you were never really lonely because you didn’t have a lot of time to be. Your mind was also set in a routine and state of tiredness that anything out of that seemed to set it in a frenzy and it would just shut down, making it hard to make conversation naturally.

Work was usually quiet, but sometimes the girl that was also accepted for the internship would try to strike conversation about her thesis and while she was talking your gaze would be focused forward while your mind went somewhere else. She never pointed that out, probably because she just wanted to talk and not really listen. You were fine with that.

But with Johnny the silence is not the kind that makes you wonder if you should say something. You think that if you were to get in a daze right now he would try to pull you out, ask what you were daydreaming about, or maybe that’s you building your other life, the one you think about before going to sleep.

You watch the window wipe, swiping away the raindrops as Johnny picks a song. It’s just a little past 6 but the clouds make it look much later.

“How is the internship going?” Johnny asks after he sets on a song you don’t really know.

You shrug. Not long ago you had told him how excited you were for this, as if you thought your life would start with this idealized career you had created in your mind. At the time having to watch people your age sign forms about how depressed they are didn’t seem that bad. “It’s fine, not that busy at night so I get to work on my thesis when they give me those shifts.”

That involves a lot of reading multiple times the same page of articles written by pretentious men that think using difficult sentences makes them smarter. You think your advisor expects the same from you, fancy nomenclature but the human mind is already complicated enough by itself.

“And how is that going?” Johnny has no idea what you’re writing about, no one actually does. Sometimes you even doubt yourself, does it really matter to talk about something that feels so specific to your reality? Because it does seem like everyone else is doing a good job at living and not feeling like they are disconnected from reality.

You scoff and shake your head missing the way his lips corners lift just a little. “The best way it can, I suppose.”

“Good enough.” He says in his cheerful voice. “When are you going to become that kind of person that can't stop talking about what they are studying?"

That makes you laugh a little. If there was something you were familiar with, it was people who loved to talk about their thesis as if they would come up with the solution to all of the world's problems. "I don't think that really suits me." Just mentioning it made you actually a little sick.

"Yeah, because you are mysterious and all."

And there it is. Just this small reference to a past conversation you had with him, alone in your small dorm room, makes you feel giddy. You could even blush if you thought hard enough about it.

"Exactly, a box of surprises." You say, in a funny voice and his laugh makes you smile.

Outside the rain is still going strong and you can see students running around trying to find shelter while laughing and using their backpacks as improvised umbrellas. The sky is completely dark now and it makes you want to be in bed, safe and sound.

You go to ask Johnny about his summer in France, but he beats you to it. He had always been better at conversations, anyway.

"I saw that friend of yours, Ela I think." He mentions casually. "She's dating a friend of mine."

You knew that because of the numerous pictures on your instagram feed, but for some reason you pretend to be mildly surprised "Oh really? I haven't really talked to her in awhile." A shrug. "We don't have much in common, turns out."

He hums sympathetically. "Yeah that makes sense. But they both seem happy."

"Yeah." The topic doesn't really interest you. You can't barely remember a time where your past friends' love lives had any affect on you, now it's just a piece of information you'll forget about in a few hours.

"What about you, seeing anyone at the moment?" The question makes you raise both your eyebrows as you let out a laugh that sounds suspicious. It's a weird thing for him to ask but at the same time not really.

You sigh and he looks at you with a funny face, as if he's amused. I don't think I have the energy for that. What about you?"

He shrugs, turning his face to the front again. "Not really."

Months ago you think you would have made a flirty commentary about that. Something along the lines of 'That's good, I get jealous easily.' and it would have made him laugh. But now you just hum, not out of interest but because you are not sure how you would react to the potential outcome.

It should've felt obvious that he would somehow mention your relationship. You always thought that when you two talked about it, it would be bringing up the months you would see each other every day, and how you spend more time at his place than at your own. But what he says is, "Remember when you refused me?"

He says it in a funny voice, like old friends reminiscing on the past. You get confused with the pace of the conversations and ask "What?"

"At McDonalds. I asked you out and you said 'We'll see about it.'" He says it laughing, which means he's not hurt by that.

"I didn't think you remembered that." You mutter, because you really didn't. "And please, I wasn't rejecting you."

The last part is a lie. At the time you didn't think he was serious about it. Now, you don't know exactly what you think.

"Right, right. When you put me down nicely."

That makes you roll your eyes, laughing alongside him. "Yeah, right."

When the laugh dies down you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. You feel a weird sensation in your chest.

"Why did you?" He asks, voice not much more serious but the question has weight that his past sentences didn't have.

You could tell him the truth, of what kind of person you thought he was and how that changed. You definitely couldn't open up about what kind of person you were. So you settle for this: "I don't know, I think.. I mean, I'm not sure we would have worked out back then."

He hums loudly, then clicks his tongue. "Yeah. I don't know either." His voice is soft then, mixing perfectly with the muted rain sound and the song still playing. "You can never know."

You turn your face to look at him. There's no way to do it without him noticing that you are staring, but you do it without a hint of shame.

If you thought about it hard enough, about everything that happened, you would still not be able to point out exactly what would have happened if something more serious took place. And that's a weird thing to think about, because there was never a point in your relationship where neither of you decided it was meant to be casual, that's just how it turned out to be.

Later at night you will think about how there's nothing really casual about the way you can perfectly picture Johnny when you close your eyes, laying on your bed shirtless, hair a mess and face illuminated by the sun peaking out your window. How there's nothing casual at all about the fact that it has never felt like it did with anyone else.

But now, you just look at him with your heart ready to burst and you say. " We should watch a movie together someday."

He laughs, looks at you for a second and says "Yeah, we should."

act 4: what’s going on?

You didn’t feel particularly fond of mondays. Having to let go of the leisureliness of the weekend behind and welcome another week ahead never felt like a good idea when your phone alarm would start ringing at 7am.

It's not that the weekend was much better than that. All you ever did was read books that made your head ache for hours and then write never ending paragraphs that you hoped would make sense for anyone besides yourself. It was easy to become some sort of alienated when you stayed focused inside your room for so long, and having to remember that there was a whole life outside was a little painful.

When you walk inside the clinic the sound of the coffee machine being turned on reaches your ears and you mutter a small good morning to the psychiatrist that usually took the morning shifts. She was tall and always looked put together with a blazer jacket and red lipstick. Her friendly face made you suspicious for some reason.

"Good weekend?" She asks as you place your things on the front desk and you spare a smile to make her think you are interested in talking about your weekend.

"Yeah, sure." You turn on the old computer they got for you to use. A blue screen greets your eyes, then it glitches for a second like it always does. "What about you?"

It might sound like you're not a very nice person if you say you don't really care how her weekend went. Or that you would wish the conversation would have stopped at the greeting. But you really don't. These days talking to people takes a lot of effort and most of the time you wish you'd be just swallowed by silence and left alone.

"It was great, thank you." She says while adding sugar to her coffee. You are sitting down now and she turns to look at you with a sympathetic face. "Listen, I have a free spot this morning, if you'd like to talk a little."

You blink slowly, taking a moment to process the words she said, but it really doesn't take a genius to understand she's offering you counseling. Most likely because she thinks you need it.

And you're not about to argue that you don't, because you more than anything else know that you do, but you feel like you're not ready for it yet. As if you have things to figure out first. "Oh, that's very nice of you to offer." You say, uncertain how exactly to handle this. "But I have some things to get done."

The lie is accepted easily but she still raises her eyebrow a little. Still, she says. "Alright, then. Just remember I'm one door away."

You thank her, smiling politely until she finally leaves to her office. The computer is still loading and you let out another deep sigh, considering drinking a cup of coffee but deciding against it to not trouble your anxiety any more.

What happens next couldn't possibly be predicted. You take your phone out of your bag and open instagram out of habit, to pass some time. Johnny's profile is still the first one that shows up on the stories board, probably from all the time you spent messaging each other in the past.

It had been a while since you two talked to each other, but you kept up with his whereabouts from looking at the pictures he posted with friends and of random things. More often than not you fought the urge to reply to them, as if you didn't really know each other anymore.

You don't expect to see him with a girl when you click on his photo. But there he is, with arms around her and a single heart. You tap on to the next one and it's a repost from someone else's instagram, of a picture of him and the girl kissing while laughing.

There's a few words you can use to describe how you feel. Your heart drops and you go cold, blinking very slowly as the pictures change to another person's stories and for a second it's like it didn't happen. Like it was just a trick of the eye.

Would it be silly to cry over this? You think it would so you take a deep breath and try to not think about it anymore.

✿

It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that you probably loved him. Or at least felt a deep kind of infatuation. Sometimes at night you lay in bed and wonder what exactly went wrong and you can't really find an answer to that. It just naturally happened.

Maybe you should have said something, maybe if you did things would've stayed the same. You wish that at the time you knew what to say but now it was a little too late.

You stare at your blank ceiling, your skin tingling where it touches you sheets. Looking at couples always made you feel weird, with jealousy maybe because you never thought that was something for you. Being in love has always been something that other people got to experience, and you got to watch it but never try it for yourself.

Maybe there was something wrong with how you worked, how you viewed this whole thing. You wish you knew what so you could fix it.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you imagine someone wrapping arms around you, with a familiar cologne that makes you feel at home. the person doesn’t complain when you hug them tighter, probably knows this is what you need.

You think of all the men you had dated, the ones who disappeared out of nowhere and the ones who treated you like shit because you allowed it. You didn't really know how it really had to work until you met Johnny.

It had never felt like that. Gentle and soft and easy.

How to separate true loneliness from the mere need to feel something, to have someone want you? That’s a trick question and you think about it until you fall asleep.

✿

For you last month in college, you don’t do much.

The internship ends with the old lady that was in charge of the clinic telling you what an amazing job you did, and how she knows for sure you will exceed in the area. She writes a beautiful recommendation letter, mentions a few professional names and then sends you away.

A week before its deadline you send out your finished thesis to your advisor, after spending half an hour staring at your email until you can press send. You got a reply two hours later with pleasantries and a date for your final presentation.

As you wait for it there's nothing a lot to do. Some days you walk around campus without a real destination in mind, stopping by the cafeteria and the library on your way. There's not many people around this time of the year, most have gone already and the ones that stayed spend time rehearsing for presentations or hanging out with friends.

You get texts from people you haven't talked to in months, wishing you good luck and inviting you to parties that you attend once or twice just to get one last taste of it.

It’s weird that you don’t feel the deep sense of realization you thought you would. You lay down on the small bed you slept on for two years, stare at the empty walls of your dorm now that you’ve put all your things away, and you feel almost normal. Sure there’s a little ball of emptiness and excitement on your stomach alongside pride for finishing this and for having grown up so much since freshman year. But besides that you just feel normal.

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such.

Your presentation goes well, you don’t trip over your words and your teachers compliment your great work afterwards. You cry, in front of a bunch of people you don’t know, and let out a deep breath of relief.

Ten days later you graduate, wearing the usual attire and walking on stage with a smile on your face when your name is called. No one screams your name or cheers loudly because plane tickets were too expensive for your parents to attend. The claps from your classmates are still nice.

You don’t expect to see Johnny there, but he shows up wearing a suit that looks alien compared to the clothes he wears daily. He looks good, familiar and it makes a lump form on your throat.

You hadn’t really talked to each other in a while. It had been a natural thing to happen, for the two of you to fall a little apart. But still, when he waves at you, you make your way to him easily.

“Finally got your ticket out of this place, huh?” He jokes with a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mimic.

“Yeah, I’m finally free.” You joke back.

You inhale softly when he hugs you, so close that you can hear his heartbeat. He surrounds you with him and you think you would drown right now if he allowed you to. “Congratulations, ____.” He says quietly, almost whispering your name.

You’re both smiling when you part. “Soon it’ll be you.”

Before he can reply a familiar face makes her way to where you two are. Johnny circles her waist when she gets close enough and you fight as to not let your smile fall. He introduces her as his girlfriend, a biomedicine student that smiles big when she congratulates you on graduating and expresses how she can’t wait for her turn to come.

She’s very pretty is what you keep thinking about as you make small talk that feels a little painful.

After some time Johnny says “Well, we should leave you to go talk to your family. It was really nice to see you, ____.”

His words sound genuine and you smile when he hugs you again.

You don’t tell them there’s not really anyone you know for you to talk to. Instead, you walk to your dorm with your heels clicking on the asphalt.

act 5: old friend / late spring

Your feet hurt a little from standing too much and not even the coldness of the beer you’re having can make you ignore it.

The truth is that you really wanted to be home right now, eating leftovers while you watched a movie. But instead, you’re in the bar your colleagues always attended after work to share a laugh and complain about mundane things while enjoying the 2 for 1 deal they had on friday for happy hour.

Working in an office with people wearing suits hadn’t been what you had envisioned yourself doing two years after graduating. You had always dreamt of having your own clinic, becoming a therapist or even working at a hospital. But times were hard and the human relations department of a marketing company had been what you had to go for.

It’s not as boring as it sounds, and you get to know about every gossip firsthand so you settle for it very easily. But having to be at a bar after a whole tiring week was not on your favorites list.

You excuse yourself from the group when they start talking about something you were tired of hearing. A gossip about the boss sleeping with someone from the finance department that you knew about months ago.

You walk to the bar, cursing your heels until you finally sit on a stool, ordering another beer that you know is gonna be your last before you decide to escape. There’s loud conversation happening all around you and a song playing over it. Your back hurts a bit and you wonder when life has become so mundane.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man that sits right next to you until he’s ordering a beer and the voice seems familiar.

Your heart jumps out of your chest when you look at him and Johnny stands there in all his glory, with blonde hair and a very fancy suit. “Oh my fucking god.” Is the only thing you manage to mumble.

For a second you think you might be dreaming, but when he turns and looks at you his face contorts in the most amusing expression of surprise.

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such.

The two of you hug while laughing and he keeps muttering something that sounds like a ‘no way.’

“I can’t believe this! What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly and he laughs.

“I’m working on a office a few blocks from here.” He explains. “Just started a few days ago.”

“I work around here too.” You exclaim and it’s like you could buzz from how excited you feel about this.

You talk about things easily, both sharing what you have been doing for the past years.

“This is crazy. I haven’t heard from you since college.” He says and it makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn’t last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Suddenly you’re hit with memories from those years and everything that happened between the two of you. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that he’s probably thinking the same thing as you are.

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “Who would’ve thought we would reunite after those years in a sketchy bar.” You joke, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going.

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face before he replies. “I would have never guessed this was your kind of scene.”

The way he says it makes you snort. “It’s definitely not.”

“Yeah.” He nods while laughing, “Still a moment kind of girl then?”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you take a sip of your beer. “Seems to me like you still got me all figured out.”

“Do I? I used to think that I did but after all it happened I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He says avoiding your eyes a little and a lump forms on your throat. “To be honest I don’t really understand what happened.”

You nod, turning to face him. “I think it wasn’t the right time.” It’s what you decide to say and he hums.

“When is ever the right time for anything?” He asks and it makes you laugh loudly.

You share a look then, one that says more than you could ever do with words. He smiles and then you smile back, like old friends would. “Maybe we met again for a reason.”

Deep down, you know this is one of those moments happening. One that you’ll look back on the future and remember that it is where it all began. Again.

#johnny scenarios #JOHNNY SMUT #nct smut #nct scenarios #neowritingsnet #i honestly think this is bad lol #but well ENJOY

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absconditum-imaginaerum · 3 years

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Hyunjae | Vulnerable Words | 18.7K Genre | Fluff, Angst, Mutual Pining Notes | Female!Reader x The Boyz Hyunjae, Post College AU. Mentions of alcohol, threats, unhealthy relationships, cursing. A whole shared brain written piece of work; Rainah and I wrote such eerily similar stories without the other’s knowledge, and here’s my rendition. This is a work of fiction, and any depictions of actions, behaviors, thoughts, and personalities of characters used in this story do not reflect reality. Summary | Hyunjae’s been gone for six years, leaving his family and friends behind to escape some painful feelings. Once returning, he realizes that those six years did nothing to help his feelings, and after running into you again, he’s convinced they’ll never go away, and that you’ve felt the same way all along.

Hyunjae hadn’t spent a summer vacation—or any vacation for that matter—in his hometown since leaving for college. He couldn’t place exactly what drew him back, but his parents were ecstatic when he arrived with a suitcase in hand and a shy expression on his face, hoping he still had somewhere to stay, even unannounced, with them. There was an air about his hometown that felt like a sea breeze on his face, like a breath of fresh air, a familiarity he couldn’t seem to find anywhere else.

His mother welcomed him with open arms, always thrilled to see her little boy, especially when she was never quite sure when she would see him again outside their visits to him. A fresh face he was surprised, but happy, to see was his older sister’s. She gave him a warm smile, waiting for her turn to embrace him after finally getting past their mother.

“You’ve been gone so long, you know,” she said to him. An explanation was queued in his throat transitorily just to hum in response, but for a moment just being welcomed by his family was calming.

“I always have classes in the summer and winter, and it’s a long way for a couple of days,” he explained. His father knew his ambitions, always studying extra hard at school, and was always encouraged to join extracurriculars or take more classes if he could—so he did.

“So, then, what made you take this summer off?” she asked.

It was an inevitable question he knew would be asked, but no matter how many times he thought to himself about the reason, he couldn’t come up with one other than he felt like he should, like he wanted to, like something was calling him back. Unable to answer, he shrugged it off before trekking up the stairs of a house he once called his.

Hyunjae got settled into his old room. Most of the things he didn’t take to college or didn’t ask to be kept were gone, and his bed was a full instead of a twin now, which must have meant that they used his room for guests—which he now was. For a brief moment, he sat on his bed, taking in the reality of actually being back in his hometown and seeing his family for the first time outside of FaceTime in a while. All the trinkets and pictures he’d asked his mom to save glimmered and glowered at him—maybe it was time to go through them to see what he wanted to get rid of. He reached over and gently plucked a silver frame from the dresser which encased a picture of himself and a girl he knew from a long time ago: his childhood best friend.

Hyunjae thought about you often, about what you were doing, if school had treated you well and how your family was— you both were that type of friends, the type that was close with the other’s family, the type whose families were basically your own. After moving away, he’d thought about you a lot through college in many lights; the good and the bad.

It was late enough in the evening that fifteen minutes into feeling nostalgic about his old life and friendships made it to dinner time. He was almost startled by the way his mom softly knocked on the frame of his door to alert him that dinner was ready, and although he didn’t feel overly hungry, he wouldn’t refuse mom’s homemade cooking or dare not sit down with them at the very least.

The evening wasn’t eventful, mostly just catching his family up on what life has been like for the time he’d been away, and similarly asked about things going on around there—about how much it had changed and become more accommodating to the younger crowd and how things had shifted around and all of the infrastructure that had been built. It was so much busier than he’d last remembered, with new shopping strips of immaculate and fingerprint-less glass storefronts with fancy chrome polished doors and neon signs that lit up the night; new bars and restaurants popping up in more populated areas he’d only glazed over while in the back of a ride-share on the way to his parent’s home.

His family stayed up much later than they had back before he left for college—he only knew because it was unusual for him to be tired before the rest of them, but when he took a peek at the clock, registering quarter to twelve, he was surprised.

“You’ve had a long day of travels, you don’t have to stay up for us,” Hyunjae’s mother commented, resting a hand against her son’s shoulder to bring him back to life, somewhat, as he was dozing off a bit in the corner of the couch. After moving to get up he gave her a soft smile, bid his family goodnight, and headed back to his room.

The bed and sheets were different, but somehow the way they slid over his body, the cool sheets meeting the warmth of his skin, something about it felt like home. Maybe it was the familiarity of the shape of his room, of the same furniture in the same spots, some trinkets still here and there he had fond memories of, or the comfort of the pillows that he sunk into like a sack of bricks. Maybe he really just was that tired from traveling and the somewhat mental exhaustion of being back and still not understanding what brought him here that any old bed may have felt like this. Despite that, he couldn’t help but glance over to the picture he was hanging on to previously. You both had just graduated high school in the picture, hanging on each other with playful smiles donning your caps and gowns. He wondered what you looked like now because he knew he looked quite a bit different.

Then he began to wonder if you ever thought about him, about how once he left for college the two of you quickly stopped talking... And now that he was thinking about it, he wondered if the number in his phone was even still your number.

Audibly sighing, he rolled onto his side to face away from the dresser from which that photograph was glowering at him, or so it felt. He closed his eyes and pressed his head deep into the pillow, tucking the sheets under his arm so just enough chill of the air conditioning would make it comfortable and somehow, despite his racing thoughts, he fell asleep.

Three days of summer ‘vacation’ went by agonizingly slowly, but he’d gotten the opportunity to look around some new shops that had popped up around the area with his sister before he was looking at your number in his contacts. Was it even worth reaching out to you? Would you even want to see him? Surely if he was having these feelings, there was a chance that maybe you were feeling them, too. So, as he sat across a bistro table from his sister after ordering lunch, his finger hovered over the message button before typing something quickly so he couldn’t change his mind.

An immediate notification came back from his service provider, notifying him that the number he had messaged was no longer in service, but that didn’t seem to ease his tension any as he looked back at the message with a displeased expression—shockingly upset in a way even he couldn’t understand.

“Who are you secretly texting under the table?” Hyunjae’s sister asked, not even remotely distracted with her food enough to not notice.

Hyunjae sighed, there was no reason to lie—it didn’t even really matter at this point, all hopes of him contacting you had been thwarted by the fact that you’d changed your number who even knew how long ago.

“An old friend from a long time ago, but their number is disconnected,” he replied with a sigh and all but tossed his phone against the rustic wood table, finally turning to his flavored tea for the first sip since it had arrived, and already their food was there. “I haven’t seen her since we both left for separated colleges… I figured if I was going to be here, it might be worth seeing her if she was still around.”

She looked at him for a moment; one name clicking in her mind right away and without thinking blurted it out. Hyunjae turned his gaze away from his plate, trying to wrangle his appetite, and up to his sister. Your name almost hurt him to speak out loud, but his look only confirmed his sister’s suspicions.

“Her family still lives around the corner, their old house…” she trailed off, trying not to step on any toes if there were toes to be stepped on, “I’m sure her mom would like to see you, she asks about you a lot.”

“Mom never told me that,” Hyunjae replied, appetite completely out the window that his point even if he picked around at the side of fruit on his plate.

“At the very least, you might be able to ease yourself about it.”

So, after a few more days of hanging around at home, helping his mom with some shopping, and exploring his some-what forgotten town with his sister, he pulled on a light jacket after dinner and announced he was going for a walk. His sister gave him a knowing look, almost promising she wouldn’t say where he was going as he stepped into his shoes and left out the front door. The way to your house was emblazoned in his mind, he knew it like the back of his hand—it was close and he couldn’t even count the number of times he’d been there over the years.

The yard was the same, littered with beautiful flowers as it always had been—your mother had a knack for gardening. All the flora was nicely groomed while the outside lights illuminated the walk-way a pale yellow color that glowed in the twilight air. He approached the door, a tight knot in his stomach; he hadn’t even planned anything to say to you, if you happened to be there, which almost made him turn back if he hadn’t already pressed the bell, listening to it chime loudly through the house before a quiet voice called back.

Hyunjae shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he listened to the locks turn before the door opened to a woman he was so familiar with, a woman who didn’t look a day older than when he’d last seen her at his high school graduation. A soft smile pulled at his lips, and his eyes softened just looking at her. She smiled back, although there was a glint in her eyes that told him that she wasn’t quite sure who he was.

“Can I help you?” she asked politely.

Hyunjae’s smile faded a bit, but not enough to drop from his face.

“I’m here to see my second family, after being gone for six years,” he replied gently, hoping that was enough.

She shook her head as her gaze cast away from him, which inevitably resulted in the smile dropping from Hyunjae’s face.

“Six years pass and your son from another family doesn’t even call you mom anymore,” she teased him as her eyes came back up to meet his disappointed gaze. “You’ve gotten so tall over the years, Hyunjae.”

His smile struggled to come back, and all he knew was the warmth of her embrace as she stepped just outside the door to wrap her arms around him. “I ask about you all the time, your mother always tells me how busy you’ve been and that you don’t even come to visit them.”

Somehow it made him feel guiltier coming from your mom than his own mom—maybe that was because his dad was always chirping in the background about studying hard, about how they’d always be there for him to come back when he was ready. His hands slowly pulled out of his pockets to embrace her back with words caught in his throat, a poor excuse of an explanation about why he hadn’t come back. It didn’t matter, the thought of you loomed in the back of his mind like a bad dream, and, as if her intuition could still reach him…

“She’s out at work tonight. Would you like me to let her know you dropped by?”

Now he was really on the spot. He could feel a shiver shoot down his spine and he thought about just asking for your phone number, but that felt like too much of a hassle. His hands shook a bit, and he was sure your mom could hear the way his heart raged against the cage of his chest just trying to come up with a response to a simple yes or no question.

“Yes, please,” he finally blurted, but it sounded unsure, there was no conviction. She reeled back to get a good look at his face, to see the nerves all over it, to see the frustration knitted in his brow.

“She asks me about you, which is half the reason I ask about you. When your mom said you never come around for holidays—”

“I wish she’d called me,” he interrupted; but did he mean it?

“You both were busy! She didn’t want to bother you—if you weren’t coming home for vacation, she figured you were doing other things. I’ll let her know you stopped by, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear that you’re in visiting for a bit.”

Hyunjae slowly nodded and allowed your mom to return inside and bid him goodnight before he was turning away on autopilot. A million things were running through his mind—the most important seemed to be what would he say to you when he finally did see you again for the first time? He couldn’t even come up with something good to say even on the spot with you potentially answering the door to your childhood home. For certain he knew that he would be standing there, looking like a fool, stuttering for quite some time—he had no doubt you’d just look at him with that same patient look whenever he couldn’t come up with the right words for you.

After returning, he didn’t have too much to say as he headed up to his room, the same thoughts cycling his mind like a cropped film reel, but it wasn’t distracting enough to stop him from grabbing that same silver-framed photo of the two of you and plopped on his bed to look at it, hoping it would inspire some things to say.

At least he’d have three days before seeing you, finally, but it was fairly unexpected. His family was just getting ready to sit down to eat when there was a knock on the door. As the youngest and spryest, Hyunjae stood from the table to allow his family to start eating, but they were just as curious. An awkwardness loomed the moment his eyes met yours after tugging the door open; of course, he didn’t recognize you, really—it had been a good chunk of time since he last saw you.

“Sorry, maybe I’m at the wrong house,” you tried, a plate of baked goods in your hands as you looked back at Hyunjae before taking a step back to look at the address. There was a screech of a chair across the floor as it was being pushed out, followed by another one before the doorway was crowded by his sister and mother who greeted you enthusiastically. It didn’t take long for you to come to the ultimate conclusion.

Your eyes shot back to Hyunjae’s, who was still looking at you despite all of the commotion coming from around him which inevitably pushed him out of the way of the doorway. Somehow the plate was coaxed out of your hand with a million questions being asked about it and you were being tugged into the house with insistence that you join them for dinner. You couldn’t answer, your gaze remained locked with Hyunjae until the both of them realized that he was your primary focus, and quickly the chatter stopped and silence took over again.

“Well, aren’t you going to say something to her?” his sister asked, prompting him to come somewhat back to life and he shook his head, swallowing hard, but still nothing was in there to say—he wasn’t sure what to say, so he settled with your name. There was a burning within your face that you couldn’t contain, and couldn’t help the way your eyes trailed away from his face.

“Hyunjae… it’s been so long, I didn’t even recognize you,” you finally said, but still didn’t feel comfortable just yet looking back up at him.

Hyunjae swallowed the knot in his throat, and after some prompting from his sister in the background, finally found something good to say.

“Would you… would you please stay for dinner with us?” he asked. You could feel the nerves in the shakiness of his voice, and in the half-step he took towards you which you could only see because you were looking at his feet. “There’s plenty, and you’re not a bother, and… to be honest, I tried messaging you the other day, but I don’t have your number anymore and I went to your mom’s and—”

“I’ll stay,” you replied, finally finding the heart to look up at him with a soft genuine smile. You could hear his sister and mom behind you, but still, you were focused on the grown-up boy in front of you, who had grown so tall since you’d last seen him—you weren’t even heighted anymore. Hyunjae pulled out your chair at the table and got you a plate and some utensils. Naturally, he placed you between him and his sister where you usually sat when you stayed with them for dinner when you were younger.

Conversation ensued quickly between you and the rest of Hyunjae’s family since you were still far more familiar with them. You settled in next to Hyunjae again, and although there was a lot to talk about, a lot to catch up on between the two of you, you enjoyed the fact that the rest of the family was breaking the awkwardness and allowing you and Hyunjae to chime in when appropriate.

The conversation was mostly about you, about school, about how life had been since leaving for college since you and Hyunjae had pretty much broken contact by the end of the first semester. Honestly, it broke both your hearts a little bit, and you could feel the stinging of those same pieces even now. Hyunjae told you what your mom said, about you not wanting to call him, and all of the subsequent lack of communication that led to your complete separation. Conversation seemed to flow a bit more freely between the two of you again, deep somewhere there was an understanding about the hurt that the split caused the both of you. Unfortunately, after that, dinner went quickly and although it wasn’t getting too late, you felt like you needed to go.

“Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Lee, inviting me in so unannounced,” you began, and then addressed Hyunjae’s sister and then Hyunjae.

“It’s always a pleasure to have you over, dear,” Mrs. Lee commented with that same full smile she always had. She always made you feel like a part of the family, like her own daughter.

“Let me walk you home,” Hyunjae offered.

“It’s not far,” you reminded him.

“It’s late and I don’t want you to go by yourself,” he insisted.

He could see the fight in your eyes, the same fight from the number of years ago when he’d say the same thing, when he’d walk you home no matter how much you insisted it wasn’t necessary. The way you dug in was noticeable, preparing to stand your ground against him because, who was he to be so concerned as someone who left? And maybe that was the wrong mindset to have about him because you could feel, even in the way he looked at you, that he still cared for you.

Hyunjae gave you that look where his gaze got a little more tender and there was an almost unnoticeable raise of his brows and a head flick towards the door. It had you swallowing hard, barely even noticing the silence before it was interrupted.

“Please, Hyunjae will walk you home! It’s safer that way!” Hyunjae’s sister chimed in and took a hold of your arm to bring you back to earth. You looked at her, blinking a few times before reluctantly nodding. She gave you a tight squeeze, reminding you how good it was to see you and to not be a stranger because she would always be around and Hyunjae was home for the whole summer.

Out of old habit, Hyunjae extended his elbow to you, and, to avoid being overly awkward, you took it, but not without looking up at him questioningly as he was pulling you out of the door. You walked slowly side by side once getting off the initial porch of his parent’s home, and he reached over to cup over your hand to keep it from slipping away.

“If you don’t mind too much…” he trailed off, asking you to keep your hand around his arm as he escorted you to your home. He didn’t look at you, even when you looked up at him. It was okay, though, because you could hear something in his voice that pained you a bit, so you tightened your grip around his bicep as you moseyed along the sidewalk. The street lamps provided dim light, barely enough to see the cracks in the slabs of concrete. Admittedly, you felt better that he was walking you home anyway—ever since all of the development in the area, it somehow felt less safe year after year that you’d come home for the summer or winter.

Hyunjae was silent the entirety of the walk; the only noise he did make was an occasional rough exhale of a somewhat held breath, and in the off chance that you attempted to sneak a peek of him from the corner of your eye you could see his chest contract with that exhale. Then, you were under the familiar light of your home’s porch before you were ready. You knew the walk was only a couple of blocks, but you’d hoped there was more time with the pace at which you were walking. There was so much stuck in your throat that you wanted to say, so much that probably wouldn’t ever come out unless he spoke first; but it looked like there was little to no intention.

You could feel his bicep flex under your hand, his whole body tensing up next to you as he took another rickety breath. With your eyes still cast down at the ground, you turned your head to him before your gaze fluttered up his chest to his throat and eventually his face; he had gotten so much taller since leaving. The numbers of your address next to it seemed to scrutinize him before he swallowed hard. Hyunjae carefully peeled your hand away from his arm and held onto it as he helped you up the step onto your actual porch landing.

“Hyunjae,” you tried as you turned to face him—leaving in complete silence seemed incomprehensible, unimaginable.

“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly, but his gaze was still cast to the side of you. “I guess just actually seeing you, actually sitting down with you at the table with my family like old times just…opened wounds I didn’t know were there…”

The tone in his voice and the look in his distant gaze was like putting salt in the wounds you knew were there, you knew had been there for years. It took a few moments of silence, but his eyes eventually found yours. He looked at you with a tenderness you’d never seen out of him before, and of course, over six years there was a lot of growing and a lot of changes, but this particular look put knots in your stomach, unlike anything you had ever felt before.

“I think if we’re going to do any mending, that’s a talk we need to have,” you answered, finally noticing the way his hand lingered in yours, the way it had been for the last few moments that you hadn’t registered his fingers playing with yours.

The moment his gaze turned away from yours again, you took a step forward and your hand left his to turn his chin back towards you. “That means you can’t run away again,” you reminded him, as if his first departure away to college was him running away in the first place.

He nodded in your soft grip, but you could see the way his brow ached to draw together.

“Go home, sleep on it, get the right words… we’ll talk,” you told him, hands both dropping back to your sides.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but this time you weren’t sure what for. Just as you were about to turn towards your door to leave him, he took you around the middle and dragged you into him, hulling you up against his firm chest as his arms tightened against you. Initially, you were surprised. The audacity, but also the guts it took to pull you into a hug when he was stumbling over his words like a dancer with two left feet. Your hands ghosted up his arms, slowly feeling his frame—tall and warm against your own—before your arms draped across his shoulders. Your head was turned to the side, pressed against his collar turned inwards towards the center, and, much to your own surprised, you relished the hug like home. This felt akin to the hug he gave you before you both departed to your separate cities, vowing that he would maintain contact which quickly disintegrated. Honestly, it had tears pricking at your eyes like you were saying goodbye all over again, but also releasing the gates on the emotions you’d stowed away for all those years with no thoughts that he’d ever come back.

His breathing was now even more noticeably rickety with your head pressed up against his chest. A few more times he apologized, still for reasons you weren’t aware of, and squeezed you even tighter for just a moment longer before he was finally releasing you.

“I’ll wait until you’re inside,” he said as you stepped back from him, and even still he wouldn’t look right at you.

“Go home safely,” you replied, stepping backward until your back unceremoniously hit your front door. You were pawing at the handle, watching him wait for you until you finally popped the door to let yourself inside. “Goodnight, Hyunjae,” you added.

“Goodnight,” he replied, and your gaze finally met his before you turned to close him away from you.

Hyunjae spent the next couple of days mulling over your brief conversation about a conversation that still was yet to be had. It was up to him to find you when he was ready; obviously, he had a lot to say to you which would undoubtedly be coupled with a bit of stumbling around for the correct words, no matter how many days he had to think about it.

At least, he attempted to think about it. He slowly kicked his way down the river-front walkway to the dock where you used to play around as kids. The river-front was full of all kinds of neat little local mom and pop shops that gave life to the town, especially when the sun was setting in spring or fall when it gleamed off the river just right and an array of purples and oranges and all the colors in between painted the sky so beautifully. It used to be an empty area, abandoned commercially with the docks left to be perfect ground to play pretend as kids.

He remembered the dock fondly as he stepped off the concrete path and onto the surprisingly preserved wooden boards that looked like they had been sanded and re-varnished recently. Maybe the dock was still in use for smaller boats, or maybe those people who owned the river-front stores kept it looking nice for tourism purposes. Either way, he was happy, because that meant he had to worry less about splinters.

The tide was out, so there was plenty of room for Hyunjae to dangle his legs off the side of the dock as he took a seat, looking out to the glittering seawater which was reflecting the aforementioned sunset colors. He recalled all the fond memories he had of this particular dock with you—it was where you spent most of your time together playing pirates and other silly little kids games and remembered one time very vividly when he was roughhousing a little too much and you ended up tumbling off the dock into the water. He was lucky his older sister was there to pull you out—you were maybe six or seven at the time; he remembered how bad he felt, how many times he profusely apologized and the way you smiled about it, laughed about it even and gave him a hard time for being too concerned. Looking back on it, he wouldn’t have changed anything.

Incessantly he gnawed at his bottom lip, doing a little more thinking of the way things used to be and less thinking about what he would say to you when the inevitable conversation came. Maybe he’d benefit from playing through his memories, and he would have continued to think of them if there wasn’t an iced drink being shaken right next to his ear.

He jumped, a bit startled by the sound, and looked over to a stout iced coffee being handed to him and followed the arm up to your face, where you smiled at him jovially with the straw of your own coffee comfortable between your lips.

“Did you know I would be here?” he asked you and tenderly took the coffee from you and scooted over to make a bit of room for you to sit next to him. You plopped down, hanging your legs off the side of the dock the same way his were for a moment, examining your coffee as you stirred it.

“I had a hunch… and then I stopped by your house,” you told him, implying that they had told you that he went for a walk, but how many places could he possibly go in a city that wasn’t his anymore.

“I’m not ready to have the talk,” he replied quickly as to not get your hopes up about it.

“That’s okay,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about that, we can talk about anything. Or we don’t have to talk at all.”

“But you bought me a coffee—”

“I could see you from the shop,” you laughed, referencing the river-front shop maybe fifty yards away.

Hyunjae just nodded, still too nervous to even look at you again since taking the coffee from you in the first place. He hadn’t even tasted it, just continued to spin the ice around the clear plastic cup as condensation built up on its sides before finally mustering the courage to thank you for the coffee.

A few moments of silence passed--if he didn’t have anything to say, that was fine, but you wouldn’t be the one to force conversation as you kicked your feet back and forth and continued to sip on your coffee. You found the nerves fluttering around in your stomach were also making it hard to look at him, which probably benefitted him anyway.

You wouldn’t, and couldn’t, blame him for being closed off, and gave him a pass for a couple of days ago, the affection and openness after the first time seeing you; the well of emotions was hard to ignore especially when the two of you used to be so close. But now that he had a few days to settle in, a few days to think about that… a different tune was expected. The imminent conversation that loomed in the background of both your minds (perhaps at the forefront of his) was only exacerbating the awkwardness you stewed in.

“Do you want me to go?” you asked after a moment; you had, after all, been the one to come second. It was his dock if he wanted it.

“No, I’m sorry. A million things are running through my mind, and I’m just trying to not say something stupid,” he replied, and finally, the blood rushing through him gave him enough adrenaline, faux confidence, to turn his head just enough to peer at you from the corner of his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to make this trip so hard on you—”

“It’s not you, it’s me. It’s one hundred percent me, and that’s the part I’m grappling the hardest with. I just…” He sighed, taking a moment to compose himself as he ran his free hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead just to let it flutter back into place. “You must hate me, for treating you the way I did. For never bothering to check in with you, or even come back. For just leaving you behind like you were nothing.”

His words stung, indubitably. Although that was the fact of the matter, you’d always tried to make excuses for him, but when he gave it to you in total plainness, you understood his feelings a bit better.

“I was afraid to go, and part of me felt like I would be better off if I just… forgot about here and everything with it.” He paused for a moment, biting that bottom lip harder than ever before, and stifled a growl deep in his throat when he finally clenched his teeth together. “I’m sorry, for being such a… freaking jerk!” His voice raised volume at the end of his sentence, emphasizing the way he assumed you felt about him because that was how he felt about him. “There’s so much more I want to say to you but I just don’t… I don’t have the right words yet.”

He took a deep swig of his coffee to try to cool himself off after winding himself up, but it was mostly so he’d shut up before saying anything else harmful because he could already feel the shift in your aura that wasn’t so jovial anymore. Admittedly, his words clawed at the metaphorical stitch job over your wounds, pulling hard at the threads that closed them up, and you could taste a bit of that initial pain resurfacing. Emotionally, you didn’t want to have that coming conversation, but logically you knew that if you were going to heal completely about each other that it was entirely necessary.

“Thank you for being vulnerable with me,” you finally said after a few moments of silence. You knew how much it took to get just even that out, the amount of pride he undoubtedly had to push aside to admit fault in the first place. The fact that he openly admitted he was afraid was somehow unlike the Hyunjae you used to know.

He couldn’t even look at you again and took another sip of his coffee to effectively polish off the small cup before he discarded it to the side you sat on. Gingerly, you collected it intending to throw it away when you left, guessing it would be before him. The silence that loomed between you had you able to hear the way his fingernails scratched against the fresh varnish of the dock in frustration.

“Why are you even sitting here with me? I wouldn’t even have the patience to talk to me until it was time to hear me grovel at your feet about what a piece of shit I was and how I don’t even deserve you to still be in my life anyway and that it was foolish of me to even go to your house, to begin with, and—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, maneuvering both cups to one hand somehow just so you could set your now free hand down on top of his to squeeze it.

“But I just—”

“Hyunjae, stop!” you pleaded, and he’d finally turned to look you in the eye, entirely, for the first time since you sat down. “You’re not a piece of shit—”

“Only that could possibly do to you what I did; a spineless and weak little—”

“Enough!” you begged—now he was just making you angry, but only because you were hurt with the way he beat himself up harder than you ever would; that was something you found familiar about him. “You know I don’t think that!”

“Don’t sit here and lie to my face like this,” he almost growled. “I know what I did to you, and I would hate me—”

“Great, but you’re not me,” you fired back with matched ferocity, and so you exchanged your look between his eyes, noting the way they shimmered amber reflecting the sunset light off the water, noting the way they looked at you with such intensity, while trying to stave the tears that were pushing against his waterline. There was a bubbling against your throat, words you knew you didn’t want to say that burned like wildfire. You continued to switch between his eyes, knowing the things queued weren’t going to help the situation in any way and so, to avoid saying something you knew you’d regret, and since you knew he wouldn’t stop pushing you, you pushed up from the dock and took his empty plastic cup with you to leave him with the burn of your hand on top of his and that distinct lack of your gaze into his eyes.

Then, and only then, did the tears that threatened have room to fall. His nails scraped against the dock even harder as he clenched his fist, still able to feel the warmth of your hand on top of his as he stared through the ghost of your presence. His jaw was tight, and his tears were hot—they were angry, frustrated, discontent but not with you. The wounds were deeper than he thought, still more tender than he thought, and all that led him to a harsh conclusion—the final talk would be even worse hell than he initially imagined.

A few days away from each other allowed for a bit of cooling off. Hyunjae drafted a few notes of things he wanted to say to you but often scrapped them, knowing that it would sound ingenuous if he was reading off a cue card. Several crumpled half sheets of paper filled his trashcan, a sight that annoyed him even as he lay on his bed with his eyes closed, knowing he needed to get something to stick. It was already two weeks into summer break and while there was plenty of break left, the sooner you had this talk, the sooner he would stop feeling like complete garbage for being in the same town as you.

That’s really what it was; initially, it felt so good to see you again—although you’d changed a lot in six years, the familiar presence made home feel a lot more comfortable. But the more he settled in, the more he thought about it—thought about what you were feeling, thought about how you made him feel, thought about everything that went down before he said what he imagined was his last goodbye and quite frankly, for as much as he cherished and cared about you, the goodbye was sub-par to shit. And he knew it would come crashing down, that comforting euphoria of having you close to him again when those fateful words exited your mouth: that’s a talk we need to have.

He hated the feeling that was coursing through him now, touching every nerve ending he had, absolute dread. Now, he was feeling like it was a mistake to come back, although he was entitled to the town as much as you were as his family lived there also—the biggest mistake was trying to see you again.

A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts and his eyes opened to look at it as it began to crack open. His sister had a tray with some cups and a kettle on that she was maneuvering through the door, pushing it back closed with her foot as she set the tray on the large dresser to the left. She looked at Hyunjae before noticing the pile of paper around his small garbage.

“What happened?” she asked, knowing it was something because Hyunjae seldom spent so much time in his room, plus he’d been off for a couple of days since he’d seen you at the dock.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hyunjae replied, gracefully accepting the freshly poured tea his sister was handing him.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked,” she replied—she usually didn’t let him get away with that, even since they were kids.

Hyunjae sighed and blew on his cup of tea for a moment. “Just marinating in the consequences of my colossal fuck ups,” he replied with a fake smile to the emptiness of his room, although the statement was directed at his sister.

“She doesn’t hate you, if that’s what you think,” she replied and took a seat on his bed. “She’s hurt about you; I’d be hurt about you. There’s a lot to process between the two of you right now, a bit deeper than you might expect to find. It’s awkward and tense and tough to swallow, but you have to do it if you want to salvage it. But I know she doesn’t hate you.”

He swallowed hard; he didn’t even want to look at his sister for the time being as he was having a hard time with the things she was even saying—they were true; he knew they were true. But about you not hating him? Maybe he didn’t believe that. He was slipping into his thoughts again before his phone started vibrating in his pocket. It was unusual, because seldom did anyone call anymore, and who would be calling anyway? He finagled it out of his pocket to look at the caller ID to see someone he recognized: Kevin Moon.

Hesitantly, he swiped to answer, leaving his sister to occupy herself about his room.

“Hello?” he muttered unconfidently.

“Hyunjae! I heard you’re finally back in town!” Kevin’s voice seemed a bit too jovial, jolting Hyunjae a bit.

“Ahh… yeah. It’s been a minute, huh?” he inquired less enthusiastically.

“A minute! More like a lifetime; you’ve been gone for six years! Anyway enough about that; I’ve planned a get-together for a bunch of friends from back in the day! You know, our high school group! When I heard you were back, I had to invite you! You should come by, I’m sure everyone would love to see you!”

It would be rude to ask who was invited, and then decide based on that; but there was certainly a handful of people he would do better not seeing again, perhaps. He had an answer queued in his throat, he wanted to say that he wouldn’t make it—

“You better go, you’re not doing anything and you need to get out,” his sister commented, loud enough for Kevin to hear.

The look on Hyunjae’s face dropped in an instant when Kevin confirmed that he heard and looked at his sister with daggers in his eyes.

“I’ll kill you,” he mouthed to her but she just smiled and sipped her tea. He composed himself with a deep breath before agreeing to be there and briefly negotiated the time and place and after Kevin hung up, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“There are so many people who are going to be there that I don’t want to see,” he grumbled.

“But there’s so many people who you do! Plus, people who would love to see you, and you can’t just mope around here all day, I won’t have it!” she exclaimed and took her seat back next to him. “You need to get out; sitting up here and thinking about what you’re going to say will make you age too fast. The right words will come, I promise.”

“I think you’re too confident,” Hyunjae said.

“I need to be confident for both of us,” she reminded him and filled her cup back up before leaving him with the rest of the pot in his room.

It was already late in the afternoon at that point, and Kevin’s party would be starting in a couple of hours. He sat on his bed with his legs crossed as he finished off the pot of tea, taking up another half an hour before finally deciding he would shower for the party and at least try to look more put together than he felt. What did the extent of the old group mean? Because you were technically part of the old group; asking about you outright would be too suspicious. There would be plenty of people there to keep you both distracted from each other especially since they’d undoubtedly seen you far more, which meant it was likely he’d be engaged the whole time.

He set the tray off to the side on his desk—he’d take it back downstairs later—and grabbed some things for the shower with a sincere hope that some hot water would help clear his mind. And perhaps he spent far too much time in there, because by the time he got out and checked the clock it was already twenty minutes passed when he thought it was. He rushed through toweling his hair somewhat dry enough to comb it a certain way and hoped it would stay, tugged on a black button-up and a light wash pair of jeans before he was heading out the door, mentioning briefly to his parents that he was going to Kevin’s, a name they were familiar with, and that he’d be back later.

When Kevin answered the door, it was nothing short of a party right there. It had been a long time since any of them had seen him, so the commotion was understandable, and then an actual genuine smile broke on Hyunjae’s face as he clapped hands with his buddy who was quickly garnering the attention of the other party-goers who had also missed him.

Hyunjae stepped through the door, a cup immediately put in his hand as he greeted all his old high school buddies amongst the dimly lit room. Kevin always knew how to set the mood of a get-together; this was no different, done up with candles and string lights that slowly faded to different soft colors with some low music in the background. There were a couple of yard games going on outside, corn hole and beer pong with tables of appetizers and coolers full of drinks of all varieties.

“Wow, Kev, you went all out,” Hyunjae commented and reached into his pocket for his wallet to try and supplement some of the cost, but Kevin stopped him immediately.

“You’re the guest of honor; you’re the whole reason I put this thing together,” he replied and encouraged him to put his wallet back. “When I heard you were back I knew the guys would be stoked to see you. It seems like you’ve been gone a lifetime!”

Hyunjae laughed nervously and hoped that he wouldn’t be asked why he never came back to visit. It was a thought he was still grappling with; a thought he knew half the answer to but the other half was something he’d rather not visit. He had mentioned it to you out loud that day on the dock and it left a burning in his throat ever since—he couldn’t decide if it was because it was the truth or because he knew he was only telling you part of it. Regardless, he tried to push it from his mind before taking a swig from the plastic solo cup in his hand: a hurricane tasting concoction that wasn’t quite right and a bit too strong.

As he expected, he was fairly occupied with the swaths of conversations, always being caught by someone new he thought he’d never see again to strike up a conversation about what he was up to and so far, he’d avoided the dreaded question about not visiting. It was safe to assume that he was just caught up in things; Hyunjae was always a hard studier; school was very important. In a fairly short time, considering the duration of Kevin’s parties typically, he’d gotten through most of the high school group who had come up to him in small circles to greet him and catch up a bit.

For a bit, he’d been roped into a couple of games of corn hole. It was fun while it lasted, although he couldn’t say he was any good at it. It was the bonding and laughing that counted, especially when someone’s throw was particularly bad and they all laughed at each other for never playing games like this in their college days—it seemed everyone turned out to be quite studious in their time at school and spent less time at frat parties.

When one of the rounds was finally over and Hyunjae’s drink had run dry, he found a replacement for his team and excused himself back inside the house to make something more his speed. There were a few small circles of people who seemed like they were all catching up—turned out he wasn’t the only one gone for an extended period. Hyunjae dug through a cooler for a can of coke to mix his own drink before he was overhearing some drama he probably shouldn’t have concerned himself with, but it was right around the corner from the kitchen and it sounded unwelcomed.

“Please just leave me alone,” a voice Hyunjae recognized sounded quietly. Suddenly his desires were conflicted when could tell they were trying not to make a scene but then recognized the voice as yours. On the one hand, he figured the two of you needed a little more space, but on the other hand, was he about to just stand by and let whoever was bothering you continue to do so?

No, he couldn’t let it go, and set his cup down on the kitchen counter, and carefully rounded the corner of the wall to find you sandwiched between it and Sangyeon, someone he considered to be close friends with at one point in time. The look on your face when you finally opened your eyes to see him was nothing short of desperate, but Sangyeon had you locked in tight.

Hyunjae wanted to verbalize his protest, but the look on your face caught his words in his throat. Instead, he stepped forward and took Sangyeon’s shoulder to pull him away from you.

“She asked you to leave her alone,” he was finally able to manage just as Sangyeon had stumbled back slightly, ready to give Hyunjae a few choice words before meeting eyes with the familiar younger male. In less than a second flat, you’d scrambled off the wall to take Hyunjae’s arm as he protectively tucked you behind him, expecting a confrontation. Sangyeon knew the history between you and Hyunjae well.

“Dude, it’s cool,” he tried, a friendly smile on his face as he reached for you.

“Dude, it’s not cool. She asked you to leave her alone,” Hyunjae fired back, taking a step back, and subsequently stepping you back.

“Babe, just tell him—”

“I’m not your babe anymore, Sangyeon. I thought that was clear,” you spat from behind Hyunjae. Although there was shock in his subconscious, he couldn’t let that display on his face. He kept his expression as stone-cold as possible as he glared down the older male who was gritting his teeth. It wasn’t hard to piece together the situation; you and Sangyeon used to date, you called it off and Sangyeon didn’t like it.

“I got it, Hyunjae,” Sangyeon tried again, as if trying to convince him that it was a situation he didn’t need to be a part of, but he could feel your grip tighten a little bit on his arm and he wasn’t about to abandon you—he didn’t care who to.

“How about you take a walk,” Hyunjae suggested, knowing what Sangyeon was implying. The older seemed shocked by his reply, and rightfully so. “She asked you to leave her alone; I don’t think she should have to do so again.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that loomed between the three of you, and you could see the look in Sangyeon’s eyes that you were pretty familiar with and so tugged yourself closer to Hyunjae. The younger raised his brow, prompting for a reply or for the older to move on. It was clear Hyunjae wasn’t going to back off, especially not as he tucked you just a little bit further behind him.

“Take a walk,” Hyunjae reaffirmed, a growl on the tail of his words and he stood firm until Sangyeon growled, attempting to glare past the other male to get to you, but Hyunjae consistently stepped in his view to make sure that would not be successful.

It hurt your pride a little bit, to be rescued from your ex-boyfriend by anyone at that party, but most particularly Hyunjae who you were not expecting to see, although you were expecting him to be there—and you really weren’t anticipating him seeing that. Surely he knew, and surely he gave you a couple of moments to decide what you wanted to do as you stood against him, against his back, waiting for Sangyeon to clear out and even beyond. Hyunjae’s rhythmic breathing was soothing as he made no moves and only looked forward; he could feel the way your hand still furled into his pressed black shirt, the way your forehead lay against his shoulder blade while his hands dangled at his sides.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a few moments. He was met immediately with a tightness of his shirt, as you gripped it a little harder. “Did he hurt you, physically?” he asked, since he could tell you probably weren’t okay, at least for the time being, and he could feel you shake your head against his shoulder.

“Let’s sit somewhere quiet,” he suggested and waited for you for a moment before you were peeling yourself off his back. You expected he wouldn’t look at you, just lead the way through the house that he had been in more times than he could count as he led you towards the back of the house, but not before being caught by a passerby. Feeling a tug on his arm as you responded to the tug on your arm, Hyunjae jolted to a stop.

“Are you okay?” Younghoon asked you. It wasn’t so far out of reach that you be put in a position you didn’t want to be in, but Younghoon couldn’t know that you’d just been rescued from one. Before you could answer, Hyunjae looked over his shoulder at Younghoon.

“O-oh,” Younghoon stuttered. Everyone around knew about you and Hyunjae. “Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologized, soothed only by the warmth of your smile as you pushed the threatening tears further and further so that you could finally get out of there as you were pulled into a back guest room—you could tell it was a guest room because of the décor and the dust on the furnishings. Hyunjae closed the door behind you as he found the light and flicked it on, giving you space to make yourself comfortable first and he would follow after.

You took a seat on the bed, first, letting everything soak in—starting with Hyunjae and your interaction at the dock for a short time before the situation with Sangyeon, how you would manage to make it through the rest of the party without more problems whether that be between you and Sangyeon, or Hyunjae. You watched as Hyunjae’s dark shoes made it into view in front of you as you looked down at the pristine wood flooring covered by an area rug.

The fray of your distressed jeans entertained your hands, picking at it nervously as you took a few deep breaths. There was an almost silent noise that came from him as he stuck his hands in his pockets, rolling his shoulders a bit before letting out a rickety exhale. He wasn’t sure what to say at the moment; between Sangyeon, Hyunjae’s blow up at the dock, the kind of bad terms you were on with each other.

“May I see your face?” he asked. He hadn’t seen it since the begging look in your eyes and he wanted to wash that away from his memory. Slowly, you raised your head to look up at him, but he wasn’t sure it was any better. The tears were cropped up against your waterline, tears you were desperately trying to fight off as your shaky fingers continued to pluck the threads on your jeans.

His jaw fell open, so many words queued at the front of his throat but none of them felt good enough to soothe the look on your face as you looked up at him, but also looked around him. Trying to decide if staying there or if reaching for you was the better option, he stood there with his fingers furled in his pockets. A few emotions swirled inside of him, feelings he couldn’t quell; he desperately wanted to avoid you once arriving, but the look on your face pressed firmly against his heart because he still cared deeply for you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I didn’t expect it, him, any of it. I told Kevin, he said it would be taken care of and—”

Hyunjae gathered you into the warmth of his chest, wrapping both arms tightly around you to provide you some semblance of safety as he sat to your side on the bed.

“You do not have to apologize to me; I only wish I could have helped you sooner,” he reminded you, rocking with you a little bit before he sat more squarely on the bed and tugged you to hold you more firmly, more steadily, more securely. You hid your face against his neck, and the tightening in his throat at the feel of your warm tears against his skin was incomparable.

“I’ll have a word with Kev—”

“Please don’t,” you begged. “This was supposed to be a party for you and I don’t want it to be ruined because of me, because of Sangyeon; I should have never come, I knew it was a mistake, that there was no way it could be assured,” you explained, somehow finding your way to your feet after pushing away from him.

“Don’t…” he pleaded, reaching out to take your hand as he looked up to you now as you stood before him. “Don’t say that. I’m happy you came.” He was playing with your fingers at this point, not minding that you were looking down at that instead of at him.

“It will be getting dark soon and there will be tons of lights all over the backyard if you’ll accompany me to play some games,” he reminded you. Kevin had hosted many parties in the past with decorations just the same—twinkling multicolored lights hanging everywhere he could get them and then some to really set the mood. Hyunjae had clearly remembered how awed you were by the lights at night from the last parties you’d come to, and that in and off itself set a few butterflies free in your stomach. You looked up to him, meeting his eyes which looked at you so tenderly. It was a tough spot to be in considering, but he wasn’t about to send you back out there knowing uncertainly that Sangyeon was still looming around and would no doubt continue to cause problems if you were on your own.

He waited for your gentle nod before taking your hand fully, cupped flush against his as he guided you out of the bedroom, and shut the light off behind him to take you out to the backyard where everyone was playing games and mingling. Some conversation fell quiet as they watched you pass, others came up to speak with you more openly before he took you to a game you could play standing side by side, and he made a promise to you that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight until he knew Sangyeon was gone.

And thankfully, for both of you, the party passed pretty quickly with a handful of guests bidding farewell to Hyunjae, reiterating that it was good to see him and that he should come back and visit more often because they all missed him—you were not to be forgotten, as they all bid you farewell as well. Some whispers lingered, some sly grins and knowing gazes as they looked at the two of you, seemingly entirely blind to it.

The games had been put away as it got dark out, not even the twinkling fairy lights illuminated the backyard enough to keep the games going, but nobody seemed to mind. The fire pit was lit and a handful of folks sat around it with drinks in hand just letting the conversation flow. You were among those sitting around it, listening to the stories being shared, some about Hyunjae, but others just reminiscing about your high school times and how much some of them missed the simplicity of life back then. Sangyeon, from what you understood, had been long gone, so you felt comfortable sitting by yourself without Hyunjae’s watchful gaze as he fixed you both a drink in the kitchen before emerging with a plastic cup which was put into your line of sight in no time. You took it, looking up at him, but after his hand was emptied it continued to linger. He motioned his head out to the depths of the backyard where more lights were strung about the garden and it would give you some quiet time. Daintily, you placed your hand in his and let him lift you from the lawn chair—there was a missed beat in the conversation for a moment, but continued quickly to try and not look suspicious.

Hyunjae guided you to the exact spot at the foot of a large tree that was upending the wall that housed the backyard and disturbed some other brickwork of the nearby flower garden, but he knew a good spot where the roots dodged just enough for a plush place to sit and placed himself in it first. You looked at him, skeptical for a minute. There was a choice of where to sit, and he looked at you with no expectations that it would be like old times, so he was a tad surprised when you planted your knees in the grass in front of him and handed over your drink for a second to situate yourself, turning and placing yourself in front of him, between the cage of his legs that bent around you, and gently leaned back into the warmth of his body before collecting your drink.

“You didn’t have—”

“I could use some familiar safety right now,” you interrupted quickly, knowing exactly what he was going to say. Besides, he brought you out there for some peace which typically came from safety and you made the choice on your own.

Hyunjae hummed and leaned back against the trunk of the tree to slouch you a little deeper. Your head rested against his shoulder as you enjoyed the coolness of the evening air, the gentle sounds of crickets and other nightlife, the glow of the galaxy beyond, and the twinkling lights in the gardens around. The only unnatural sounds were that of ice melting in your cups, disturbing your drinks when the structure changed, and the way the cups sounded being moved around. It was quiet, and for the most part, you preferred it that way, but you knew another inevitable question was coming.

“You don’t have to tell me because quite frankly it’s none of my business, but what’s your history with Sangyeon?” he finally asked you. Your cup crinkled in your hand, flimsy under your grasp for only a moment while your other hand plucked a handful of blades of grass from the ground with some quiet pops. He didn’t want to make it too obvious that he didn’t like the idea of you and Sangyeon for reasons he could go on about.

“Long story short, we got together for… reasons… albeit not good ones, and he turned out to be entirely as controlling as you witnessed. I broke it off, he didn’t like it, and heard about this party and knew I’d be here… for you…”

“You should have told me,” he whispered, his voice right above your ear and you could feel the way his jaw shifted against the side of your head.

“We weren’t exactly on great terms,” you reminded him, noting the distress of his jeans against the knee, and mindlessly to distract yourself, you fiddled with the loose strands that were fraying, easy to reach with his knees bent to enclose you. “Besides, I heard there was a chance you wouldn’t show anyway. We all kind of determined that you intentionally hadn’t visited. Not that we thought you hated us, just that you wanted to move on.”

There was a tightening around Hyunjae’s heart he hated as you spoke those words. Hearing you say it hurt in a different way than him coming to grips with it himself. His legs couldn’t help but close on you a bit, a frustrated grunt squeaking from his mouth. Not here, he thought, not now. This was not the best place to be having that conversation, but little did you know that was the conversation.

“I owe you all an explanation, truly,” he said.

“You don’t, really. You have your reasons for doing things that are your own. You don’t owe anyone anything,” you said.

“I owe it to myself, then,” he retorted, “and I want to start with you. But that’s part of the big conversation and while I know you have granted me gracious time to collect my thoughts… it’s a conversation I’d rather have without prying ears as it only concerns you and me without the speculation of anyone else.”

“Hyunjae…” you trailed off, turning your head to fight against his, fluttering at the feel of the corner of his mouth and nose against your forehead. His eyes clenched tightly, once again trying to fight off the feelings, the thoughts, trying not to repeat the day on the dock. To steel his nerves, he turned to the side and took a large swig of his drink, feeling your hand wrap against the outside of his knee to tug it against your body. If it was one thing about Hyunjae you were really in tune with, it was his emotions—you tended to feel how he felt, to understand without him having to say much—and it held true even with six years apart.

“I don’t want you to feel rushed and I won’t force the conversation, but I know you want to say a lot of things, so when you’re ready…” you uttered, nuzzling your chin under his jaw. You were pushing, unintentionally, at the seams of his packaged distress. He was doing his absolute best to be there, to be the open and comforting Hyunjae he always was to you, and that was his ultimate demise. The very concept of Sangyeon put a pit in his stomach, and it didn’t even have to be Sangyeon, it just had to be anyone that wasn’t him. But how was he supposed to tell you everything? About why he left, about the things, the feelings, he wanted to leave behind without seeming insulting to you; and then how was he to address that those same issues never went away, that seeing you for the first time even after all that time stoked the same fire, if not more so.

But back then he was just a kid, and it felt stupid, all of it. The distance hurt like hell, but after a bit it became refreshing. Each year got easier to not come back; but he missed his friends, he missed his family, he missed you, but he didn’t miss the way he bit his tongue, the way he stowed his feelings, the way he’d dare not ruin the amazing friendship you had over what he called selfishness. He wanted you to be free without his burden, which ultimately started driving his choice to leave.

He never changed; he could still feel the tip of his tongue clamped between his teeth, still feel the churning in his stomach with the attempt to put his feelings away, the lump in his throat which felt like a swollen version of his heart, a hole in his chest which the alcohol wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“I think it’s about time we head home,” Hyunjae commented after a few moments of tense silence. You were trying to understand the emotions you were feeling via Hyunjae, the way he was feeling, the sudden tenseness of his body, the closed-off disposition. “I’ll walk you,” he added, a lulled whisper in your ear.

You both made your way to your feet, discarding your cups in the kitchen after bidding everyone goodnight and thanking Kevin for the hospitality. You all lived close, the same homes from the district which put you in close walking distance. Hyunjae offered his elbow to you the way he always did, and the both of you meandered rather slowly to your home where he could drop you off. You wrapped both hands around his bicep, a million thoughts running through both of your heads, putting you in seemingly different worlds than each other while walking right next to one another.

Needless to say, the two of you arrived at your front porch far sooner than either of you were ready. Hyunjae took your hand to help you up the step onto your landing, but the lingering way he gazed at you let you know that he was feeling the same way; that for some reason you weren’t quite ready to leave now that you were really alone. But it was already late, had to have been past midnight, and lingering on your landing could look suspicious.

Still, you turned to look at him, not so much at his face, but at his throat, at the undone button of his black shirt, at the way his throat shifted as he swallowed hard. His thumbs were hooked in his pockets as he stood as attentive as he could muster, waiting for you like he always did. You, on the other hand, fiddled with the hem of your shirt as you thought of what to say, what to do, if it would be best to just say goodnight and be on your way, or if you had something more to say.

Your gaze finally landed on his face, looking over his features. He must have been able to feel your gaze, because slowly his eyes flittered up to meet yours, glimmering in the dim porch light. With you up on the landing, the two of you were closer to the same height—you smiled, remembering how much he’d matured since you last saw him. It seemed like the only thing that could roll off your tongue was his name, so almost silently it did so once more. You watched his gaze shift between your eyes, his feet shuffled forward to bring himself closer to the landing. Slowly, your hands came up; an innate desire to put them against him had you placing them gently on his shoulders. His breath shuttered against your face, jaw tightening as your brow furrowed a bit.

He was so close to you, your arms were entirely folded at the elbow, you could practically feel the warmth radiate off him, his face had to be no further than a couple of inches now that his eyes were peering slightly down at you and still glimmered like the galaxy captive. It took a second for you to realize that his face was sinking closer to yours, that his head tentatively tilted just as his nose brushed against yours. You took a deep breath, fingers anticipatorily furling against his shoulders as his lips fleetingly brushed yours. He waited a moment for you to object, one of his hands freeing itself from his pocket to place tenderly against your hip while your breath was caught in your throat, but when you did not attempt to move away or verbally object, he leaned in further.

It took only a second for you to fall entirely into his grasp, feet shuffling forward just a tad as he slipped his hand around your back to put your body against his; your arms slid around his neck especially as he stepped up onto the landing, and guided you backward to gingerly press you up against your front door with a few readjustments. You couldn’t quite place the mix of flavors you were tasting, but it was clouding your better judgment—many factors were in play between the kiss, the way his fingers pressed into your lower back, the way he had you arching against him, the Sangyeon panic, the alcohol, the distance, which all made the experience surreal. But you couldn’t deny the way your chest was exploding, the way your nerves were all on end, the way it felt so right after so many years.

You almost sighed, the way his tongue flicked against your bottom lip before your subconscious was pinging on the Sangyeon panic, and your arms retreated from his neck to weakly push against his shoulders. He tugged away, the tender sounds of a broken kiss ringing in your ears like a train whistle before those same warm lips were pressing soft kisses against your jaw, and only after a successful few did you find any words to push from your throat.

“Maybe don’t,” you uttered, more as a sigh as your head tilted back to quietly hit your door, “my breakup is still fresh, and we still need to talk.”

Your voice was a whisper of the wind, but still enough for him to ease off, to pull back and press his forehead against yours after noticing your eyes were closed. His hands tugged your hips into his since your hands were still flittering somewhat across the nape of his neck. Your tongue darted out to flick across your lips, remnants of rum and coke lingered before he took a whole step away from you, and that meant the protective grasp of his hands against your hips was gone as well.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered, “I’m sure I’ve been sending you strong signals all night, and when you stepped in and… your safety and your scent and your touch and charm…”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to come back,” he muttered under his breath, looking up at the cracking paint of your porch covering. He hoped it wasn’t loud enough for you to hear, but unfortunately, it was. You looked at him, queueing a couple of replies in your throat that never seemed to fit the situation and adequately explain how you felt at the same time. You waited only long enough for his gaze to cast back down to you, almost expecting you to say something, but you had twisted the knob to your door and disappeared into the darkness of your home without another word. Could you say it was the best decision? Perhaps not. But in that moment you feared that you would say something that would damage an already delicate situation. If you had just left it at the bit about the breakup and about needing to talk, he would have understood. Everything else just confirmed his fears about you; that you liked the idea of him. He shook his head and turned to head home, ignoring the prying questions of his sister who was surprisingly still awake and, without turning a single light on, closed the door to his room and crawled into bed.

Hyunjae was quiet for subsequent days—too quiet, really, and under the prying and watchful eyes of his sister to look for anything to start a conversation about. Hyunjae was a brick wall. As stoic as anyone could be, almost emotionless, and that, in and of itself, was enough to break the ice about it.

“What’s turned you into a zombie?” she asked, closing the door behind her as she entered Hyunjae’s room. He was reading on the bed, but maybe he couldn’t even call it reading; it was more like his eyes were scanning the same ten sentences a hundred times, never once comprehending what any of it said only to start over from square one again. His brain was scattered, the was no arguing that. But while he thought that his scattered brain would provide him with at least some thought about how to handle the situation, there was no such luck for that either. He had become zombie-like between the lack of emotion and disregarding actions.

His eyes shifted over to her—he looked tired; dark circles around his somewhat reddened eyes, but maybe that was for a reason yet to be clear. He took a deep breath, closed his book, and turned to her.

“The same reason I left in the first place,” he replied, not anticipating that she would have an immediate response—she didn’t. She wasn’t confused, she had a pretty good idea why he left even though she never pressured him to say; he had to do what he had to do for himself and no one would stand in the way of that.

“Should I tell her you’re napping, then?” she finally said.

Those few words dropped on Hyunjae like a bomb. The gears ground in his head for a moment, trying to comprehend how incredibly dire the situation was seemingly suddenly. He blinked a couple of times.

“What?” he asked.

“Did I stutter? Do you want me to ask her to leave? She’s having tea with mom downstairs, I said I would come see if you were available since apparently you haven’t been answering your phone.”

He looked over at the device on his bed, remembering the decision he made right before he closed his eyes for the night to block your number. His heart simply couldn’t bear dealing with anything you had to say, if you did even dare attempt to contact him.

A deep sigh fell between his lips as he stared past his phone and at an undesignated imagined hole in the wall. He all but slapped his book down on his bed and dropped his face into his hands, running his fingers deep in his hair just to tug at it.

“Are you serious,” he growled. Was it not enough, what happened? Was it not clear enough that he wanted to just disappear back into the night like he had never shown back up in the first place?

“Whatever problem you’re having with her, you need to solve it before you leave again, if that’s what you decide to do. If that means closing that book, then do it; but leaving it open is only going to hurt more,” she advised, reaching over to take one of his hands after it fell slack at his side. He looked over at her, but he could tell by the look on her face that she was serious. Not closing the back cover left the wounds wide open and he had already experienced once just how painful that could be.

There was a knock on the door, followed by his mother’s voice, and before he even had time to object the door was being pushed open, and there you stood, looking like you’d slept as much if not less than himself.

Hyunjae let out a disappointed and frustrated sigh as he rolled his eyes away, his sister gave a displeased growl while you looked directly at him. Although Hyunjae’s sister harbored no ill will towards you, she cared immensely for Hyunjae which made the situation that much harder. She couldn’t stand to see him like this, but she also didn’t know the whole story, just that it was about you as so many things had been in the past. She stood and turned to Hyunjae for a moment.

“Do what’s best for you,” she reminded him, glanced at you, and side-stepped you to bring her mother away from the situation.

“Great,” Hyunjae growled sarcastically as he turned to sit on the side of his bed and meet your gaze to the best of his ability. Slowly you stepped in, closing the door behind you. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into a blowout, but you knew things were rough between the two of you, and you could tell he was suffering just as much as you were about the entire thing.

“Hyunjae,” you greeted, not pleasantly nor firmly. He could see the quiver in your jaw just saying his name, but that didn’t stave off his fiery feelings in the slightest.

He muttered your name back, a greeting somewhat in return.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me—”

“Then why are you here?” he asked, almost barked.

You sighed, slinking against his door. Hyunjae tended to get rough when he was wounded, like a cornered dog who had no choice but to bite back.

“Because I gave you as much time as I could but it obviously can’t wait anymore,” you replied, trying to force confidence into your voice. You needed to stand your ground with him, even if you were never particularly good at doing so.

“You’re right, I don’t want to talk to you. Not only that, but I don’t think there’s anything to talk about anymore. So, sorry you came all the way here for nothing, but I don’t have anything left to offer you,” he snapped, standing from his bed and approached the door, and you, and reached out in an attempt to tug it open.

You pressed against it harder, forcing against his pull to keep the door closed. He scoffed and looked to your face containing the most determined look you could muster since you had arrived. You glared up at him and growled his name.

“You’re pissed at me, and you have every right to be. But we spent many years being the closest of friends, and whenever we had a spat, we always worked it out. And even if things are a bit rocky right now, and it looks like I’m not your friend, I’m at least here as someone who cares so deeply about you—in whatever way you want to interpret that—to try and work through this with you, the way he always have,” you almost pleaded, but with a conviction that made it sound more like a statement for the first time since you’d arrived.

“I know you’re hurting, and I know I’m the cause of that. But to think that I’m here for any other reason than to try and make it right…” you trailed off with the shake of your head, gaze trailing away from his for only a moment, “you know me better than that. And if I know anything about you, you left for a reason, so let’s start there.”

“What is this, freakin’ honesty hour?” he asked, taking a step away from the door, almost attempting to convince you that this was ridiculous, but your reply jarred him.

“Yes, it is, that’s the whole purpose of trying to solve something, being transparent.”

“You want me to be transparent?” he almost roared.

“I want us both to be transparent, Hyunjae,” you fired back, although quite a bit calmer than him.

He paced for a moment, trying to figure out how he was going to approach this—the best way didn’t matter to him, he just wanted to express his feelings at the expense of anyone else’s feelings, because everything to that point had been at the expense of his. You stayed pressed up against his room door, watching him pace, watching him think, watching the frustration build on his face until he finally got some words out.

“The other night,” he started, pausing his pacing to look at you, “when you just let me fall into a bear trap…” He laughed, but it wasn’t because it was funny—his brow was furrowed in disbelief as he looked at you, a hurt on his face you’d never seen before. “I left because I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You swallowed hard, having a good idea what he was talking about already, but you still wanted him to say it out loud—you still wanted to have a conversation.

“Couldn’t take what, Hyunjae?” you asked delicately.

“You,” he replied, jaw clenching for a moment, fists following before he took a deep breath himself. “The way we were. How… connected we were. How open and honest and upfront we were, how deep we were,” he explained, or tried.

“And the other night is related because?”

He bit his tongue, you could see it peek out from behind his teeth before he turned his face away from you, clenching his eyes before his hands found his dresser, holding him up in a sense as he leaned into it. A few deep and rickety breaths followed as he composed himself enough to say something.

“It confirmed the fears I struggled with, suffered with, that you only liked the idea of me. Confirmed the fears that you wanted me in theory, and how strained that made my ability to maintain a friendship with you. I left because it seemed easier to forget about the feelings when you weren’t right in my face. I left because I thought it would be easier to move on. You said the other day you sent me strong signals, and you did. They were strong signals; they were wrong signals—”

“They weren’t wrong,” you interrupted, “I was torn between respecting my relationship space with Sangyeon and being elated that you were back and willing to treat me like we’d never skipped a beat,” you tried to explain in return.

He spun to face you, tears already pushed off his face. His heart hurt unbelievably, fiery but in a negative way, squeezing in his chest as he formulated his reply.

“So you think it’s cool to just lead me on? To not only let me but encourage me to kiss you on your front porch and lean into it like you welcomed it, just to hit me with all that shit about my safety, my scent, my charm and in essentially the same breath tell me that I’ve crossed a line? I’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re just the one I won’t ever get over, but you don’t have to make it so damn hard for me the one time I do decide to come back!”

“Hyunjae—”

“Do not. Do not try to charm me with those pretty little eyes, with the sweet way you say my name—” he growled, unable to finish before you had something to say.

“I’m not!” you retaliated. “I am not trying to get out of what I did! I am not trying to discredit how you feel or play the victim in any way. I know my approach wasn’t great, and I will be the first to admit that. But if we could go back and redo the situation… if you hadn’t kissed me, I probably would have kissed you,” you expressed to him.

“I don’t like the idea of you, Hyunjae. I’ve always liked you. And when you left, it took me a few years to get in the game to try and move on… I got with Sangyeon because it felt, in the beginning, like he understood me. Like he empathized with my loss, which was you, and I had an aching, a pit that needed to be filled that I thought he could fill. But that pit is shaped exactly like you, and I realized that nothing else will ever fit it properly…”

You tried so hard to maintain your resolve, but the way getting all of that off your chest made you feel in combination with the look on Hyunjae’s face, you weren’t sure how long you would last. You couldn’t tell if he thought you were lying or not.

“What a jerk I’ve been to you,” you continued, “This is why I get so mad about you saying stuff like how mean you’ve been to me; like you think I thought you left without a purpose. I didn’t know, exactly, your purpose at the time, but I knew it was one you needed for yourself. So, why would I think you were a jerk for that? When you didn’t reach out, I saw the signs like freeway billboards—”

“I loved you,” he interjected. “And I was so scared that if I had admitted that to you, that I would lose you, but I ended up losing you anyway because I was too weak to swallow the fact that I did love you. That I do love you. That those six years away did nothing to help me move on,” he replied, pouring it all out for you, finally saying what he needed to say for so many years and a weight lifted off his chest, but it didn’t stop the squeezing feeling.

“I got too worried trying to respect the relationship with a man who never respected me; who took advantage of me knowing I was vulnerable without you; and if I had come to that conclusion on the landing that night… Hyunjae, I may have not let you leave. It was like my favorite coffee on a cold day, like the sun on my skin in the late spring, like the spray of the water on the dock—nothing has ever felt more like home.”

Hyunjae let out a deep sigh, blinking back the tears that pushed at the outer corners of his eyes as he slipped to the floor. His gaze looked out but didn’t find anything in particular, clouded anyway. He took a moment to reflect on the way the hardwood panels felt underneath his fingers, the way breath filled his lungs, the way his eyes stung, the sound of you sliding down to the floor yourself against his room door.

There wasn’t much else that needed to be said, so the two of you sat across the floor from each other in relative silence for quite a few lingering moments. The both of you were trying to regulate your breathing, trying to quench the fire that burned deep down.

It took a moment, but he crawled across the floor of his room to sit up in the corner of the wall and the door and asked for your hand only to coax you over to him, between his legs to rest up against him as he settled his chin on your shoulder. From then, it was a matter of time and healing, and he wanted to spend the initial healing time with you in his arms in the quiet of his room as the both of you processed everything that was said.

All that could be heard throughout the room was perhaps gentle breathing, silently the continued refusal of tears that stung both your eyes. Hyunjae dug his face in the crook of your neck, even if you were turned away from him; he didn’t want you to see it. But even if you couldn’t see it, you could feel the way his rickety breath fell across your shoulder, the way he trembled against your back, the warmth of his tears against your skin and even though things were on the mend, that, in and of itself, stung like hell.

Hyunjae’s pain had always been your pain, and vice versa—his happiness, his burdens, his struggles, his successes and triumphs; they had always been shared because of your dynamic, and it was clear things weren’t about to change. It had always been a love the both of you were too afraid to admit because there was a very real chance it would drive you away from each other.

“I love you, Hyunjae…” you muttered. It was the only reassuring thing you hadn’t said.

His arms tightened around you, fingers digging deeper into the fabric of your shirt that furled in his grasp. There was a mumble into your skin—you didn’t hear him, but you had a decent idea what it consisted of.

It was contemptuous to even consider moving for a bit. Relishing each other’s presence seemed cathartic, to a point; it felt as though as you sat there with each other, after laying it all on the table, that the healing was somewhat fortified. As the time passed, your touches against each other were different, softer in a way, more calculated, and genuine. Millions of things were still running through each other’s minds—even though there was nothing left to say, you both were over thinkers to the core, so that occupied most of the silence between you. At least, until there was a knock on Hyunjae’s door. He hadn’t realized the time, or how much time had passed, but he helped you to your feet before tugging the door open to reveal his sister.

“We’re getting ready for dinner, you’re welcome to stay…” she hesitated, noting the look on both your faces. Your eyes were noticeably still red and swollen—you never had a quick recovery after crying, even if it was somewhat tame. Hyunjae was still pushing at his own tears, too.

“Thank you, but I should get going,” you replied, a sad smile on your face as you looked to Hyunjae who understood that not only would it be incredibly awkward, but that you both probably needed some time alone with your thoughts. He nodded encouragingly, agreeing with your conclusion before he began ushering you through his door. After following his sister down the stairs, you quietly greeted both of their parents, thanked them for the offer for dinner, and had Hyunjae show you out.

“I’ll walk you,” he asserted, but you quickly shook your head.

“Your dinner is hot, you should stay; it’s still light, I’ll be okay on my own,” you replied as you turned to face him, to look up into his somewhat swollen eyes, to catch the fleeting tremble of his lip as he looked back at you. Before he could nod in reluctant agreement, you reached out to take his hand and gently squeeze it. You used that hand to pull him closer to you, the half a step distance you needed to stand high on your toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek; it was sticky but you didn’t care. His eyes fell closed as you lingered there for a moment then you drifted back to the flats of your feet, gave his hand another squeeze, stepped off the landing of his house, and turned down the street. A few trickling moments passed before his sister collected him at the door, encouraging him back inside to try and eat something even if he wasn’t hungry. Surely, he would hear from you soon enough.

It was a weird type of limbo to be in, unknowing when it was appropriate to contact the other, and sheepishly waiting around for the other to do the dirty work. This inevitably led to another few days of silence, but that didn’t stop you from calling up Younghoon—your new closest friend since your falling out with Hyunjae—to ask for his advice, since he never seemed to give it unsolicited.

Nervously, you turned your iced coffee between your hands as you sat across the café table from him. Patiently, he continued to wait for you, never forcing a word out of you or a move of any kind. When you had called him up saying that you wanted to talk to him about Hyunjae, especially considering the look he gave you at Kevin’s party after Hyunjae had helped you out of a precarious situation, he was eager to meet with you—not because he had dirt or anything to spill, but because he knew, somewhere in there, you agonized over Hyunjae; sometimes in unhealthy ways. You had always been friends with Younghoon, so he was the natural next best to Hyunjae; expressly since he’d watched your friendship at its peak and watched the way it splintered into nothing—admittedly, he was the only one with your actual best interest in mind, particularly when you concluded that Hyunjae’s absence crushed you in ways you couldn’t explain initially.

“Sorry,” you muttered, a rickety diffident to your voice with another shaky exhale.

“I’m in no rush, you know I’m here for you,” he replied. “Why don’t we start with this; you mumbled hurriedly over the phone about how things had been solved, and then unsolved,” he prompted, giving you somewhere to jump off from since it appeared you were having a hard time finding somewhere to start.

A tough swallow broke down your throat as you thought about the instance in which he reached for your arm and asked if you were okay, your hand laced with Hyunjae’s.

“About that—he caught Sangyeon being… well, Sangyeon,” you answered. Part of you figured Younghoon would be offended you didn’t tell him about the incident with Sangyeon, and you honestly weren’t even positive he’d been seen by Younghoon or Kevin for that matter.

Younghoon’s eyes perked a little bit; the situation was a little different now that he knew you had been in Sangyeon’s clutches only to be rescued by Hyunjae. It seemed right, in all fairness.

“We’d fought a couple of days before—not really a fight, a small disagreement, and weren’t on the best of terms. It was a weird situation that went from bad to good to bad all in one evening…” You had to trail off, thinking about the events as they replayed in your mind. But it was salvaged now, right? You blew off your steam with each other and found a ground with equal footing, but things were still awkward.

“The point is, I’m here because we finally had a talk, and while it wasn’t really talking and more like yelling at each other and then breaking down into mutually pathetic messes, I came to ask you what you think is the best way to approach him now. We haven’t talked in a couple of days, I think we’re both kind of hinging on the other being the first to reach out for contact,” you explained.

Younghoon sat in contemplation for a moment. There was no correct answer to your question, and he couldn’t even say there was one approach that was better than the other. Even something as simple as texting him to ask how he was doing could be enough to open the door, so he didn’t take long to come up with that to say to you.

“I suppose you think it’s weird to just text him to ask how he is.” Apparently, the situation was a little more complicated in your eyes than he initially thought.

“I had six years to do that,” you replied, your plastic cup crinkling under the pressure of your fingers furling against it.

“Of course,” he answered, understanding the situation a little better. “To be completely honest with you, you both have overcome a lot already, if you consider. Between the frontages, the distance, the coming back together, and all the drama that came with all that, you both have managed to sort something positive out, right? I’m sure there’s nothing you could say that would have a negative impact short of telling him you wish he’d leave again, and I doubt you’re going to say that.”

A slight laugh escaped from your throat, but it could have been mistaken as a scoff just as much. It was ridiculous for Younghoon to even suggest that, because he was completely right—only if you became possessed would you consider saying that to him.

“I know it feels like a delicate situation, but I’m positive it’s far less delicate than screaming at him in the middle of his bedroom about how dumb you both were being after re-shattering his still splintered heart.”

“Ouch,” you responded, even if it was true, and it was never like Younghoon to pull punches when you needed to hear something. And he had always known of Hyunjae’s feelings for you, so that didn’t make this conversation any less brutal.

“Also, I’m not saying it will be instantaneous, but I’m also certain that deep in there he’s elated to have you back, too, and in the state he’d battled with himself about for some time. You might be best off asking to meet on neutral turf so there’s no awkward looming—I know how nosey Hyunjae’s sister can be,” Younghoon laughed and took a swig of his coffee, relaxing back into his chair which, inevitable, had you relaxing back into yours, letting his words sink in as you picked up your phone to type a message to Hyunjae about meeting up the next day.

The late evening sun glimmered off the water, stretching left and right as far as you could see. The soft ripples of the water catching the light to produce a river of diamonds while your legs hung off the edge of the dock. Your phone was tucked deep in your pocket, an unread message about Hyunjae being on his way to meet you sat in your notifications bar. There was an unexplainable tightening in your chest, but maybe it was just because it was the first time you were getting to see him after the tipping point. An unreasonable voice called from the back of your mind to back out; that it had already been a rough time with him, maybe it was better to just let it go—a voice you had to really try to push away.

Another rigid breath—how many had come in the last few days, you would have a hard time counting—as you steeled your nerves, clutching the edge of the dock as you tried to wait patiently, at least until a small cup jingled with ice from the side of your face. Hesitantly, you looked over and slowly followed the arm up to a familiar face. He smiled delicately, his lips barely tugging at the corners to produce it, but it was detectable by your trained eyes.

“Hi,” he almost whispered as you faltered a bit in taking the flavored iced tea from him; it was a little late in the evening to be having coffee—not that it had ever stopped you in the past. He took a seat next to you, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the dock next to yours. To say that he was sitting comfortably close was an understatement; his hip was effectively pressed up next to yours, just like old times, but there was a new sense of comfort that washed over you from the fact, even if the nerves were bundling in your throat.

“Hi,” you choked back, eyes never breaking their contact with his being even when he settled. “I’m going to apologize in advance if this is extremely awkward.”

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you,” he laughed, looking out over the water to notice the same sea of diamonds you’d been entertaining yourself with since you took a place on the dock yourself. “Can’t say I’ve been through this before, so it’s definitely new and rocky terrain.”

“You seem jovial, nonetheless,” you replied.

“One of us has to try to keep a good spirit,” he joked, elbowing you in the side, reminding you that you weren’t exactly the mood-maker of your duo, before he took a swig of his tea. You followed suit, uttering your gratitude, before forcing a bit of confidence into your bones. All of the times you’d sat on the dock with him in the past in this very setting came rushing back to your immediate memory, and with it, all the times you’d begged to loop your arm around his. So, with a bit of hesitancy, you moved your tea to your hand opposite of him and swiftly stuck your hand under the crevice between his arm and torso to wrap your hand around his bicep, additionally leaning your head against his shoulder to avoid the imminent gaze that would no doubt scout your embarrassed features in half a second flat. Hyunjae did, in fact, turn to look, a more noticeable smile tugging at his face as he pulled that arm tighter to his body, acknowledging your courageous display of affection, and gave you the satisfaction of relishing it without some signature sassy remark from him as he leaned his head against yours.

The way you clenched your hand against his bicep was indicative of looking for something to say, scrapping any ideas you had in your head a handful of times. He knew you weren’t the best with words, especially after having a fight—that’s what he’d call it, because it kind of was—but that didn’t stop him from waiting for you to say anything. Instead, you opted to nudge your head up a little bit, wedging it between his head and shoulder a little further before a somewhat exasperated noise slipped from between your lips.

Hyunjae discarded his tea gently against the finished dock, turning his full attention to you. His slender fingers gently prodded against your jaw, prompting you to lift your head from his shoulder. It was always like him to take control of the situation, and to be completely honest, you had banked on that for this entire meeting. You were pleased to look at him per his will, tilting your chin up so that his face could slip by yours and press a lingering kiss against your cheek, the way you had to his at the end of your last meeting. Perhaps the most important meeting.

Again, you wanted to speak with nothing really to say. Your eyes fluttered at the feel of his supple lips against your cheek and remained closed when his delicate fingers flittered away from your jaw and his hand cupped against the back of your neck, craning up only slightly to place another kiss against your forehead, and another against your cheek—you had to chuckle, nervously nipping at your bottom lip as you tried to read his intentions.

“Just let me marinate in the fact that I have dreamed about this for eight years, and I’m finally here,” he mumbled against your skin, knowing that you were laughing at him.

“I’m laughing at you because you keep missing,” you replied, eyes fluttering open to meet his as he pulled back. The gentle smiles fell from both your faces as your gaze teetered between each other’s eyes, noting their glimmer, their depth, the absolutely homey look you gave each other. Your breaths mingled just a few inches from each other between the two of you before you noted the way his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips—in nervousness or preparation, you couldn’t tell. When he noticed the way your eyes fell past his nose, he couldn’t help but speak up.

“Is that so?” he asked nearly inaudibly.

“As a matter of fact…” you trailed off, anticipating the way one of his hands reached across you to help you settle your tea against the dock so you could place that hand wherever you’d like as his mouth descended on yours, delicately eclipsing yours in a softly meshed kiss that felt worlds different from the one on the landing of your home after Kevin’s party. It felt like a plug had been pulled, and all the tension that culminated between the two of you was swirling away into the abyss as you melted into his touch, gingerly cupping your cheek until his lips broke away. A silent protest came in the form of an exasperated exhale, that shy smile returning to your lips noting he hadn’t pulled far enough away to be out of reach, so you took it upon yourself to lean in for another quick peck.

“Somewhere deep in the back of my mind,” he began, waiting for a moment for your eyes to open so he could look into them once more, “I had always hoped I would get to kiss you on this very dock with the sun going down and glimmering against the water, exactly the way it is.”

You placed your hand down over his, which was pinning you somewhat against the dock as he rotated to face you. The look on your face was enough, he didn’t really need a reply; everything that needed to be said had already been said. Even still, you had something for him.

“Me, too,” you replied, leaning up to nuzzle your nose against his for just a moment, “so, I’m glad you came back to figure it out. I needed you more than anything.”

Hyunjae chuckled; the thoughts he had been battling with for so long about why he was returning all suddenly made sense, like a message in the stars, a secret nudge from the universe telling him there would be something special about him coming back, pushing through the dread he had cut with your hometown. He remembered letting it marinade for a week after the idea first crossed his mind. Maybe he was feeling homesick, admittedly he missed his parents and his sister, but he could tell there was something more.

“Something in the vast infinity delivered your call,” he whispered to you.

“I owe whatever mystical message that led you back to me a great debt.”

“Why don’t you just say you missed me?” he teased.

“The way I missed you is beyond anything I could string together with words, Hyunjae,” you replied, pushing him back a little bit to put him physically on the defensive for only a second before he took the opportunity to pull you across his lap so he could have you as close as possible.

“And showing you feels a little more vulnerable; maybe we needed that all along, instead of putting on that tough face for each other,” you told him, your smile saying something different as your hand gingerly stroked through the tresses of hair on the back of his neck, tilting his head to look at you before your foreheads met, eyes fluttered closed once more.

A moment relishing this closeness was much needed and long-awaited.

#deobiwritersnet #hyunjae scenarios #hyunjae fic #hyunjae oneshot #tbz scenarios #tbz fic #tbz oneshot #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae angst #tbz fluff #tbz angst #hyunjae #tbz hyunjae

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tallyovie-writes · 3 years

Text

Pictures of Us | f. w. Part 2

part 1

Summary: all the paintings choose a student to patron, the Lady chooses you and watches as you and Fred Weasley grow in the same direction

Warning:none, might contain little angst, nothing serious

2k words

@sirenswhispers @discoverablefeelings @capture-the-moment-on-camera @sophieswizardswheezes

Sixth year, December

The corridors buzzed with excitement. With only less than two weeks to the Yule Ball boys were running around in desperate need of finding partners while girls were frantic about not being asked. Of course the already paired ones watched the madness spread with a smug smile on their lips.

The Paintings also had the time of their lives, the new puppets on their chessboard gave back a little life to their fading colours. Now they could play matchmaker from an even bigger selection.

The Lady wanted to be proud to say she did not take part in such childish acts, but she had a mission with those two before the second task. It's not like she could do much, but occasionally if she heard a french boy talking about inviting her patron to the dance she faked sadness as she gave the poor boy the news that you were indeed taken.

You weren't indeed taken.

Madness has yet to engulf you, but you weren't calm either. Collita was asked by a bulgarian boy, but you had doubts whether there weren't threats made by her that overpowered the poor boy's common sense.

You would have been fine with the two of you going together, but now that she had a partner, you weren't planning on being the third wheel.

You forced these thoughts out of your mind for now. You had more important things going on.

The Lady's corridor was full of students as usual, so you weren't surprised when you entered the DADA classroom someone almost knocked you off your feet.

"Watch where you are goi.....oh..." you started telling off your attacker, but as you looked up Fred Weasley held eye contact.

Ever since that encounter in the potions storage room things have changed. You haven't really met after that, the two of you gave a wide berth to one another. No funny business, no prank. When you did run into each other, a sudden awareness filled your body. He made no snarky comments, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. You didn't bring up the secret of the castle, and he didn't bring up the date. Like an unspoken deal has been made without either of your knowledge. It was awkward at best. You didn't think anyone noticed, there was only bad blood between you before.

He didn't reply, he didn't apologize for running you over. He took a long look at your face, lingering on details only he could see. Without his usual grin, he left the scene as fast as he came, robes flying around him.

"What was that? Has something happened between you two?" seems like someone noticed after all.

"Nothing besides me agreeing to a date, him agreeing to let me in on a secret, and our mutual ghosting. How is your french boy by the way?" you feigned innocence.

Collita's jaw hit the floor.

"I'm joking. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"You know I wouldn't even be surprised. With all the sexual tension you two radiate, I wouldn't put it past you that I could find you in a broom closet with him."

Now it was your turn to let your jaw hit the floor.

"Well then, good to know nothing is going on..."

Boy, if you'd known...

Sixth year, yule ball

It wasn't that bad of an evening. You could say it could have been quite magical. The house elves outdid themselves, even the usual house rivalry crawled back to its gloomy hole.

The icicles lost their naturally given cold arua just like the stone walls' usual grim facade. White dominated, but was quickly swept by the wide range of colourful dress robes, Dumbledore's glittery lilac fabric showing how it's done properly.

It really wasn't your date's fault either that you didn't really enjoy yourself. The poor boy tried everything, but besides polite conversation you weren't capable of anything else.

You were standing alone by the food table, the ravenclaw boy left a while ago to try his luck somewhere else, probably with bigger chances.

You saw Collita bent over from laughter silent tears running down her face, her date was watching her with parted lips in amazement. Eyes big, positive surprise written on his face. Collita did that to people. She was naturally gifted with a charming personality, she drew you in, spoke to you like you were on a pedestal.

She made you feel seen. A secret talent that you were rather jealous of on several occasions.

Suddenly you felt sick of the swirling mesmerized faces, the colours were too vibrant, the music too loud, too many bodies pressed together.

Before the walls started closing around you, you left your previous position and made your way to the exit that led to the gardens. The only sound that was registrateable to your ears were only your own footsteps.

Fresh air cut your rapid breathing shorter. You slowed down, the Great Hall's chokingly sweet smells started to fade away into the night.

"Wouldn't say rushing to the night with only a light silk material covering you was a smart choice, wasn't it? I took you to be a lot smarter than that, love. You're gonna get sick." a soft voice interrupted you.

Fred Weasley stood next to the bushes.

"Well, being sick would mean I wouldn't have to see your ugly face in class, so..." you replied but your voice lacked its usual fierceness. You were too tired.

He chuckled at your reply.

"I don't wanna go back there.." you started in a low voice, barely understandable, but gathered your poise and frowned as you said the last sentence. "They are too happy in there anyway."

"Is that jealousy in your voice?" he found so goodly which strings of you he should pull.

"And what if it is?" you snapped at him.

A ghost of his usual smug grin appeared on his face.

"Get your big nose out of my business by the way!"

"Well love, you know what they say about big nosed guys..." he lazily shrugged, hands in the pockets of his robe.

"Get lost, Weasley, I'm not in the mood today."

Maybe it was the hint of desperation in your voice, or the pathetic look you might have presented, but he stopped picking your brains.

"Come in, Y/S/N, you might even find the bloke of your dreams tonight." Fred tilted his head to the side.

"I'm not interested in 'finding a guy' to be my only goal." you scoffed at his remark.

"Well then, as the only guy you talk to right now, I feel obligated to spare you from the clutches of the cold and sickness, so pretty please get your ass in here."

"I'll stay until I decide it's enough. But thank you for your concern. Bye Fred Weasley, 'find the girl of your dreams' tonight." you rolled your eyes at him.

Little did you know, he already did.

Despite the cold, the Lady felt your frozen heart start melting, even if you haven't realized yet.

Sixth year, few days after the Yule Ball

"I don't understand why you thought it was a good idea to freeze your pretty little ass out there in a low cut silk dress in winter."

You groaned out in frustration.

Collita didn't spare you despite the fact that you were bloody sick, and fuckin hurting everywhere.

"Madam Pomfrey said you won highest fever of the year." she mentioned between stealing a few of your get-well sweets. "At least you finally won something." she winked at you.

"Get out, and let me suffer alone you bimbo!" you hissed at her, but the sharp pains shooting down your neck really destroyed to effect you were trying to achieve.

"Alrighty, my little pathetic friend, I suppose I can leave you to your demise. Be a good and obedient patient." she sent you a kiss and strolled out the Hospital Wing.

In the Hospital Wing, after curfew

After Collita left you to suffer on your own Madam Pomfrey gave you a light sleeping tonic. You welcomed the sweet oblivion in the place of pain.

A light noise disturbed the calming darkness. Opening your eyes was a too heavy task, so you relied on your hearing. A soft fumbling could be heard, but the person near your bed executed the deed quite clumsily as the most colourful swearing left their mouth.

Fighting against the tonic's luring effect, you tried opening your eyes. When you did, you almost jerked back in surprise.

Fred Weasley stood there with an innocent smile on his face, like a child caught in a naughty act, his hands were midair frozen on the spot hovering above your stack of sweets.

"What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the night standing near my bed?" you demanded and pulled your blanket further to your neck. "Are you setting up a prank?"

"Have a little faith in me, Y/N...if it were a prank you would only know it before it happened and that's already too late. Can't a bloke visit his sick classmate? The classmate he warned against the cold?" you scoffed at his pointed stare.

"In the middle of the night?"

He started scratching the back of his neck.

"Good point. A point I should probably elaborate on." he didn't seem like someone who wanted to elaborate.

"Don't let me stop you from doing that..." you rolled your eyes at him.

He seemed a little awkward and you could barely hide your amusement. It is not every day a Weasley gets a little intimidated and loses his usual cockiness.

"You see..." he started but his gaze was still fixated on his hands. "...I felt a tad responsible for you catching a cold.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

"If it weren't for me dancing on your nerves in the garden making you irritated enough to stay outside longer than intended, you wouldn't be here right now." he sounded a little guilty and you couldn't help the warmth that started spreading in your stomach.

You started to chuckle.

"Weasley. It's alright." you felt a sudden bravery envelop you as you said the next words nonchalantly. "You owe me another secret and we are even."

You waited for his reaction.

He didn't disappoint. He lifted his head, brown eyes locking into your own. Now you weren't sure if it was a wise idea to make him remember your deal back in the potion storage room.

"And here I thought I could bribe you with chocolate that I nicked from the kitchen...you are not a woman easily pleased." he didn't seem that sad about this fact.

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Right."

Silence fell upon the two of you. Eyes still interlocked, you weren't sure if minutes or hours passed by. The Hospital Wing's darkness faded, and the freckles splattered across his face became more contrasted than before. He tilted his head to the side, his gaze burned your skin.

Suddenly becoming aware of the weirdness of the situation you cleared your throat and looked away.

"Since the tonic made me hungry like a wolf, I'll accept that nicked chocolate." you said, trying to break the silence.

Fred smiled and threw you the bar he fumbled around with before. Your catch was nothing sort of graceful and you felt embarrassment tint your cheeks.

Looking down at the bar in your hand you felt your eyes grow big.

"How did you know this is my favourite?" you asked astonishment, creeping into your voice.

"Lucky guess." he shrugged. You didn't need to know that every time the Grand Hall's tables were filled with this, he couldn't look away from the joy radiating on your face. Just like now.

"Your taste is impeccable, I gotta say."

Oh yes, his taste was indeed impeccable, but not just in chocolate.

#harry potter #angst #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley #slytherin #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x y/n

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waitingat-thefrontgate · 3 years

Text

Hell Was The Journey

Summary: Max and Spencer's almost meet...two times before they do

Word Count: 1769

Authors Note: I love Max. I love Spencer and Max's relationship. I also LOVE Taylor Swift, so when I was listening to invisible string I couldn't help but wonder how that'd be a cute Maxcer fic. So here I am! I made a separate account to post this. I hope you enjoy!

p.s this isn't probably the first fic inspired by that song, but I am pretty sure it is the first Maxer one. Please correct me if I'm wrong!

4x8

Max let out a deep sigh as she checked her watch. She had an hour before she had to head to her student teaching placement, an hour she wouldn’t have if her professor didn’t end class early.

“Come on Max, let’s act like college students and do something on campus” her classmate Leah said.

Before Max could respond, Leah had already pulled Max off to a direction.

“You know we could be lesson planning. Or even better, go somewhere to eat!” Max grumbled as she would have preferred to spend the hour decompressing her teaching credential program’s tough schedule. Although she looked forward to seeing her students and loved being able to share the passion of art with others, Max still couldn’t help but wonder if this was what she was supposed to do with her life. She followed her mom’s advice about pursuing something she loved, but an art history degree unfortunately isn’t getting her job interviews.

Ignoring her, Leah stopped at a bulletin board that listed all the current events that were going on campus. “Max! They are holding an FBI recruitment seminar in a few minutes, we should go!”

“I don’t think the FBI will be impressed with my 5’2 stature and art history degree” Max snorts and shakes her head. “Besides, we are pretty knee deep in another career path.”

“I know that, but who knows who we’ll meet. Maybe some cute guys are interested, or better yet, maybe there’s some hot FBI agents here already. Let’s go!!” Without giving Max the second to respond, Leah at pulled her off to the direction of the building the FBI seminar was held.

They arrived a few minutes before it started. The presenter was an older man, who seemed to be already chatting with another attendee, who seemed to be dressed to impress wearing a suit and tie. It wasn’t until the younger man turned around that his holstered weapon was visible.

“What have I been doing wrong if he’s in the FBI. He looks about our age” Leah whispered.

Before Max could respond, her phone starting buzzing. Leah sent Max death glares as she picked up the phone, her brother-in-law Jared doesn’t call her unless it’s important.

“Hello?”

“Michelle’s in labor! We’re on our way to the hospital now. Meet us when you can!” Jared hung up right after his last words, probably calling the rest of the family.

After a few seconds of shock and the reality that her sister was going to be a mother, and Max would be an aunt registered, Max gathered her things right as the presenters started introducing themselves.

“Hello, good afternoon my name is David Rossi and I hav-“Leah looked at Max waiting for an answer as to why she was just leaving so quick.

“Sorry I’ll call you later” Max whispered, “let me know how it goes!” She slides out the door and starts running towards her car, knowing she will be meeting her niece or nephew very soon

10x9

Max couldn’t believe the news about her friend Jessica. Although her and Jessica haven’t been close ever since she went behind Max’s back and dated Mike Davis a week after they broke up, she was still horrified and saddened by the details of her death. Max knew that Jessica wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but she was a business owner, and her responses were always out of fear and stress about making ends meet.

She had already been in contact with other mutual friends she shared with Jessica, and she began scrolling through old pictures she had.

Max thought for a very long time that Mike Davis was going to be the man she’d marry. After a tough time getting a steady teaching job and losing her mother, Max so desperately wanted something she could say was hers. This led to her moving quickly with Mike and missing (and ignoring) the clear red flags. Even after the cheating and lying, Max was willing to forgive Mike. No matter how many times they broke up, Max always hoped for the day Mike would just pick her, and only her.

Feeling guilty about practically ending her friendship over a guy like that, Max sighed as she grabbed her keys to head to work. That’s when she jumped over her phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Maxine Brenner?” a deep voice asked.

“Yes, yes this is her. May I ask who I’m speaking with?”

“My name is Aaron Hotchner, I work with the FBI and I’m calling to ask you questions about your friend, Jessica Harris. She had you listed as an emergency contact.”

Max’s heart stopped. She didn’t know. “Yes, yes of course. We haven’t been in contact as much, but I want to help however I can.”

“Would you be able to stop by our office this morning?”

Max bit her lip. She had already used all personal and sick days, and her current principal was everything but understanding. “I’m on my way to work right now, and unfortunately won’t have time until this afternoon.”

“I understand. Give me a second and I’ll connect you with another agent who can talk to you on the phone, and they’ll see if you should come down again this afternoon.” At the bureau, Aaron looks out his office window. He sees Spencer looking at the board of the case with the pictures of the victims and their location.

Aaron steps out of his office, enough for Spencer to hear him, “Hey Reid, I have a contact that knows Jessica on the phone right now, can you ask her some questions?”

Spencer doesn’t turn around. “I can’t right at this moment, I’m still putting together information about our other victim”

Aaron scans the room and noticed Anderson without a task. “Anderson! I’m gonna patch you with someone who knew one of our victims. If anything seems worthy have her come down this afternoon.”

Max twiddled her thumb until finally she hears another voice, “Hello, my name is Agent Anderson and I’ll be asking you a few questions about Jessica.”

During her entire commute, Max answered questions about Jessica truthfully. She winced when she realized she didn’t have many good things to say about her. Agent Anderson thanked her, and as of right now he doesn’t see a need for her to come down. Max thanked him and grabbed her things and walked towards her school. She knew her students would be able to make her smile.

15x4

It was Saturday morning and Max smiled as her nephew talked about school over breakfast. Her nephew was almost as tall as she was, but she still remembers how small he was when she first held him all those years.

She finally felt like she was in a good place. After many years of struggling silently Max got the strength to go to therapy and take the time and energy to truly heal. It was hard, she always found pride in her independence and her high walls. The decision to go wasn’t easy, but when she realized how much it was affecting her relationship with Sammy, she knew she had to go. For the first time, she talked about her childhood and the pressure of growing behind her sister Michelle’s shadow, losing her mother and her toxic, fast paced and short lived relationships.

For almost two years, she had been applying the advice her therapist had gave her. She took care of herself, began putting effort in her relationships with her family, especially Michelle, and instead of ignoring the topic of her mother, she talked and remembered her fondly. She even got in touch with a headhunter, considering maybe it was time to leave teaching and find something that was meant for her. The other day she even thought about asking her brother-in-law if any of his coworkers were single, but she didn’t because she still wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

“Max, can we get cinnamon rolls at the coffee shop we always go with my mom?” Sammy looked up with big puppy dogs eyes.

“Sammy, we just finished eating. You sure you have room?” Max raised her eyebrow as she paid the bill.

Sammy thought for a minute, “I actually don’t know. But the park is right there so we can always go there for a bit.”

“Mhhh,” Max thought for a minute herself. She looked out and saw that it was a beautiful day in D.C and she would appreciate more time with her nephew, “Alright, let’s swing by the park!”

When they got there, the parking was full. She did a few laps, and she was ready to give up, “Sammy, I don’t think it’s possible we’re gonna have to try again another time.” Max turned her blinker to turn on the road again to drop Sammy off at his house.

“Awe come on Max! It’ll be quick I promise!” Sammy gave his best puppy eyes and Max knew who would get their way.

She turned her car around and parked on a no parking area and turned to Sammy. “We have to be SO quick.”

Sometime past season 15

Max looked out the window of her dad’s house as she plans the summer programs for the Smithsonian. Spencer was teaching Sammy a new magic trick as the rest of her family preps dinner outside. It had been almost two years since that Saturday at the park. Something that wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t make that spur of a moment decision.

Spencer and Max had already realized the two times their paths would have crossed. It was more decisions that delayed their meeting, but they both agreed that they were supposed to meet on that Saturday. They had to go through things, change, hurt and grow to be the person they were today. The person that was right for the other.

Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.

Max put her things away. There was something that connected her with Spencer, and today, she thanked that thing a little more. She reached her bag that had a positive pregnancy test. Holding it close to her heart, she thought back of all the things that had happened, and she would do it again to be with Spencer and grow their family.

Spencer saw Max walking down to join them, he grins and thinks to himself he will never get over seeing her. He still feels like that Saturday night when he found her again after waiting in the hospital.

“Took you long enough” Spencer says as he laugh

#Maxcer #Spencer x max #max brenner #invisible string #first fic please be nice

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breadoffoxy · 4 years

Text

The D Box

Summary: What happens when you're moving and your friend accidentally unpacks your sex toy box? Chaos and advantageous situations.

Written for the BTS Ghostie Writers Bingo Bash. Prompt: "I’ve made a mistake.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f. Reader, Yoongi x f. Reader x Jin x Jungkook

Genre: Smut, NSFW

Warnings: NSFW, Angst, Smut, Foursome, FMMM, unsafe sex, oral sex, sex toys, language, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, anal sex, vaginal sex, animal tail butt plugs, vibrators, hair pulling, exhibitionism, sub!Jungkook, sub!Reader, Dom!Yoongi, Dom!Jin

Word Count: 6,318

A/N: Thanks @chelsea-chee for helping me figure out some of the logistics for this fic. Foursomes are hard.

"Remember we need toilet paper. Oh, and paper plates because we don't want to worry about dishes. Did we add dish soap to the list? Toilet paper..." You scratch your head trying to remember everything.

Namjoon stands half way out your door. "Yep, we went over it y/n. Don't worry, I have it all memorized."

Hoseok waves his phone from where he stands behind your mutual friend, a list of all the supplies you need up on his screen. You nod at Hoseok reassuringly, but Namjoon thinks the nod is for himself.

"Great!" He claps his hands. "Now that that's settled, we'll be going now." Your clumsy friend turns, nearly missing the small step at the end of your little porch, following a laughing Hoseok to Hoseok's bright yellow car parked in front of the street.

You hide a snicker behind your hand, but it gets cut off into an indignant, "Hey!" when two excited bodies bump into you on their way out the door.

"Sorry y/n!" Jimin and Taehyung exclaim at the same time, giggling as they head over to Jimin's sleek black car.

"Don't forget the sauce this time!" You yell across the yard.

Taehyung salutes you, shouting "Yes, boss!"

Opening the car door, Jimin points at you with keys in hand. "You guys better have so many boxes unpacked by the time we are back, or I'm going to eat your tacos!"

"Don't you dare touch my tacos Jimin!" You yell back aggressively.

"YA, stop yelling! You're going to irritate your new neighbors!" Your friend Jin screams somewhere within the house.

Yep, you were off to a great start.

The sound of tires screeching fills the street as Jimin takes off with Taehyung to pick up your food order. You shut the door, screaming internally.

"You ok?" Yoongi asks. He looks up from his phone from where he's sitting on your cheap futon surrounded by boxes. His form is swallowed by a large, comfy looking, bright hoodie.

You walk over and slide down on the floor, leaning against a stack. Gazing around the room, you look at the boxes that fill up the tiny living room area. Pretty much your whole life right here.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." You say, wiping a hand down your face tiredly.

You haven't had a restful moment in a while . You just escaped a crazy, toxic roommate. It was a struggle to find a place you could afford on your own, having to depend on roommates for years. It was liberating, but at the same time you were scared to be all alone.

"Don't worry." Yoongi looks back at his phone. Shaking his head, his beautiful dark brown, nearly reddish bangs sways around his forehead. "We'll get you all set up and everything will be ok, trust me."

" Thanks, Yoongi." Your heart feels a little warmer, knowing your friends were with you, that he was here with you. Shyly, your fingers play with the ends of your sweater.

"What do you mean ' we '." An agitated voice says, making you look up to see an irritated Jungkook carrying a heavy box labeled kitchen like it weighs nothing.

Jungkook's cute strawberry red hair contrasts slightly with the serious face he is wearing and his bulging muscles. He's wearing an unbuttoned light blue shirt with a white shirt with a deep scoop underneath. You look away before you start admiring the sweat glistening on his chest.

"I'm the only one moving things to their rooms." Jungkook huffs.

"I'm doing my job." Yoongi leans further back into the uncomfortable piece of furniture, making it look anything but. "I'm the moral support. Good job, by the way."

Jungkook's eyes widen at his elder's praise. "Aw, it's nothing really."

"Way to carry the team, Kooky." You add, giving him a thumbs-up.

"Find another box for me boss." He grins at you, smiling cutely at the nickname. He could never be mad at the two of you really.

"Jungkook where is that box?" Jin peeks his blonde head around the corner where your minuscule hallway kitchen is. He waves his arms clad in a comfy looking sweater around in impatience.

"Don't tell me what to do." Jungkook grumbles, making his way towards the kitchen.

"Well then hurry it up." Fires back Jin .

You just shake your head from the muted bickering. Those two never stop. Standing up, you start circling the boxes, trying to find the labels you wrote in black marker. Slowly, you start organizing the boxes by room, making it easy for Jungkook to move them to the right places. Yoongi, true to his word, says words of encouragement from his spot on the couch as you work. The clattering of dishes can be heard in the kitchen, Jin taking over and organizing that space for you.

"This should be the last bed room box, Kookie ." You hand him a box with a 'D' labeled on the side. "Looks like it's a desk box, so I don't know if you want to start putting it out on my desk?"

"For sure." He nods, taking the box from you, walking down the short distance to your bedroom.

He took off his blue shirt long ago now, and you can't help but eye his back appreciatively as he leaves the room.

"Don't make me jealous y/n." Yoongi warns behind you, not looking up from his phone.

You sputter incoherently, staring at the dark-haired man with wide eyes. He looks up from his phone with a devious smirk.

"I'm kidding." He chuckles and looks back at his phone, texting rapidly. "The kid has a nice back."

Oh. Your heart falls a little bit at his teasing. Now you're the jealous one.

"He does." You concede pitifully.

Your remark makes Yoongi pause his texting. A confused and worried look crosses his face at your tone and he tries to catch your eyes with his. You already averted your gaze from the man, looking around the room for something to distract yourself with.

"I'll take this one to the kitchen." You luckily find a box with a 'K' labeled on top of one of the remaining stacks. Sliding it off, you walk away quickly, and pretend you don't hear the questioning call of your name from the man sitting on the couch.

Somewhat haphazardly, you put the box on your tiny counter. You see your tall, broad, blonde, handsome, plus the whole thesaurus on adjectives for beautiful, friend Jin unwrapping your assorted coffee mugs and organizing them in one of the small cabinets.

"I hope there was nothing fragile in that one." He looks over a little concerned before continuing his task.

You grab the scissors on the counter and cut the tape on the box. Silently, you open it and start unpacking its contents, unwrapping bundled silverware and utensils.

Jin stops what he is doing to turn and face you fully. "Ok, this is the part where you are supposed to be 'I know what I'm doing Jin '." He changes the pitch of his voice to sound like yours at the end. "Seriously, what's up?"

"I-" you start, but don't know how to continue. "Where should we put this silverware. The door next to the fridge, or this one here?"

"That one makes better since with the organization I think." Jin suggests, trying not to push but the curiosity and worry is evident in his posture.

You pull out the silverware holder at the bottom of the box and start mindlessly filling it with the now scattered silverware on the counter.

"All this is so new, you know." You shrug, focusing on the task in front of you instead of the man beside you. "Guess I'm a little scared. Mainly just tired probably. I'll be ok."

"I'll be right back." Jin pats you on the shoulder as he scoots around you in the narrow alley kitchen.

Continuing your task, you don't notice when he returns until a picture frame of you and the rest of your friends helping you move is placed on the corner of the counter. He gives you a smile, angling it just right.

"See, look. It feels homier in here already." Jin smiles at you, his hand comes up to rub your shoulder reassuringly. "We'll be here for you."

"Thanks." A resemblance of a smile appears on your face, and you bump your hip into his.

The blonde man's smile turns softer at the action. He grabs a handful of other utensils to put in a neighboring door. His eyebrows furrow suddenly. "Also, Yoongi looks kinda pitiful in there. Did he say something untactful and make you upset? I can make him beg for forgiveness."

You let out a puff of air. "Nothing happened, we were just admiring Jungkook's backside and he made a joke. Nothing bad, I just..." you shrug, not really sure what you want to say anymore.

"Ah I get it." Jin rests his hips on the counter, turning to face you with his arms crossed. "You want him to admire your backside, isn't that right?"

" Wha - no pshhhh ."

You look away quickly, eyes falling on the picture next to Jin on the counter instead. Suddenly, a horrific realization strikes you.

" Jin , if you talked to Yoongi, you got that picture from the living room, right?"

"Yeah, got it from a box with a lower case 'd' on it. Should I not have?" Jin looks at you a little lost on why you are asking now about it.

Everything seems to freeze as your mind hyper-processes everything. You only had one desk box, and if it was in the living room, then the box Jungkook was going through was definitely not your desk box.

"I've made a mistake."

With that, you dash out of the kitchen, leaving a very confused looking Jin behind. You nearly slam into the wall as you round the corner into the hallway, nearly scaring the life out of Yoongi. You skitter towards your room and stand in the door way frozen, much like the man giving you a deer in the headlights look as he holds a large, thick, silicone dildo in his hands.

The box with the capital 'D' didn't stand for desk, but for dick. It sits opened in front of your friend, revealing a plethora of toys and you feel yourself die with shame a little on the inside.

Jungkook gets over his shock at your sudden appearance, and he wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively while waving the dildo. Its flexible, curved build, makes the tip bounce at the motion.

"So-" Jungkook can be a cocky ass and he knows it.

"Jungkook, no." You try to cut off anything he's about to say.

"-you have quite the collection here. How often do you use this." he points the dildo at you, and you glare at the rather generous sized head.

"Put it back in the box, now." You demand.

"Put what back in the box y/n?"

"Don't be a brat Jungkook."

"Oh, come on just say it." He raises an eye brow as a challenge, and his finger presses the button at the end of the device.

The dildo hums lowly as it starts vibrating on different settings. You glare at him, hoping he would get bored and put it away, but instead he starts clicking through the different speed settings. He stares at the dildo in wonder at the highest setting, and that is when you make your move.

You run, tackling the man on the bed. It feels like you hit a solid wall, and the air is knocked out of the both of you. Scurrying up his body, you try to grab the vibrating dildo before he recovers. The dick box becomes a victim to your scramble as your foot kicks it, knocking it off the bed and its contents clattering to the floor noisily.

Just as your fingers graze the dildo, Jungkook recovers. The next thing you know, you're being flipped and now you are the one laying on the bed with Jungkook hovering over you. One of his hands easily encompasses both of yours and he holds them above your head. Both of you are panting heavily, his face too close to yours and his breath fans your face. Your eyes are lost in his and something about this atmosphere feels too heavy to just be a friendly game.

Ever so slowly, the purple dildo comes closer to your face. You hear it more than see its approach as your eyes are glued onto the dilated eyes above you. The soft tip brushes against your lips, the vibrations making you jolt from pleasure and unexpected anticipation.

"What-Jungkook, get off her right now!" Jin yells from the door way, shocked.

The spell between the two of you is broken, and Jungkook flies off your body as if electrocuted. Jin stomps over and rips the dildo out of the younger man's hands and turns it off.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you avoid the worried glance of Jin, and become mortified when you see the figure silently standing in the door way. When your gaze meets his, Yoongi looks down and picks up something off the floor. He stands back up and you can now see him holding your magic wand.

Just fucking great.

You hide your face in your hands in shame and let out a mortified groan. "I made a mistake, I'm so sorry guys. Just please ignore all of this."

"It's no big deal." Yoongi says, before turning the magic wand on experimentally. "It's just sex toys."

"This is a lady's private collection." Jin says, trying to defend your honor.

"Well, the lady does look like she needs to relax." Yoongi says as he approaches the bed.

He sits on the edge of the bed and looks at you. You can't decipher the emotions in his eyes. Yoongi bites his bottom lip nervously, and Yoongi never does nervous. Not with you at least. The tip of the vibrating, silicone head touches your leg, making you jump.

"I know this is a sex toy, but it's also a massager. You've been so uptight lately- sorry- I just want to help. Can I?" He asks sincerely.

The look in his eye is one you can't refuse. Biting your own lip in return, you nod. He moves the wand up and down your leg gently, soothing your tired limb.

"Give that here." Jin tosses the purple toy on the bed before snagging the magic wand from Yoongi.

Your shocked that the man doesn't drop it in the box, but instead crawls on the bed behind you. Soothing vibrations massage the tired muscles on your back, making you moan in appreciation.

"Y/n wants her backside taken care of, isn't that right love?" Jin says as if it's the most obvious thing.

With your eyes now closed, you shift to make more of your back accessible . You enjoy the impromptu massage while trying to dispel the sight of sex toys everywhere in the same room with your friends. In your blissful state, you completely miss the goading look Jin sends Yoongi over your shoulder, and the dark-haired man's scowl he throws back at the blonde.

"Woah, y/n, are you a furry?" Jungkook calls out excitedly.

This has your eyes open instantly, head whipping to the side to look at the youngest, ready to deny everything. In his hands are two tails. One a bright pink bunny tail and the other a red and black fox tail. Attached to the ends of both are flared, glass plugs.

Will the shame ever end?

You slap a hand to your face, hoping to knock the embarrassment out. No point trying to convince the red head now. "It's more for aesthetic than anything, I think it looks cute. The fox one is easier to...ah nevermind."

"What? I'm curious." Jungkook asks. You don't know if the appearance of his bambi eyes is genuine or if he's acting naive to make you explain embarrassingly.

Yoongi leans over slightly and plucks the fox plug from Jungkook by pulling on the end of the tail.

"I bet it makes it easier to masturbate." He says casually, eyeing the toy appreciatively.

"Don't say it so casually!" You shriek.

Leaning forward, you try to snag the tail from your friend. However, you don't make it far as a hand slaps on your shoulder, stopping you from lunging at Yoongi. The magic wand switches rhythms and moves lower down your back.

"Y/n needs to relax, stop taunting her you two." Jin orders.

Jin's about to say more but an alert goes off on his phone. He removes his hand from your shoulder and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. Yoongi bushes the fox tail up and down your leg teasingly. The fur tickles your skin and you kick him. He grabs your ankle before it leaves his side, a dark warning in his eyes.

"Looks like they are all stuck in traffic." Jin's voice cuts through the air. "Seems like they'll be awhile."

"Perfect." Yoongi purrs, eyes never leaving yours.

"I'm so hungry, why is that perfect?" Jungkook whines.

"So, hear me out." Yoongi starts.

"I don't think I like where this is going." Jin sighs disapprovingly.

"Since we got extra time, why don't we really help y/n relax? We can cure Jungkook of his curiosity too." Yoongi proposes, completely ignoring his elder.

Jungkook pauses his petting of the pink, fluffy anal plug. "uhhh-"

Jin scoffs, "As if she would agree to th-"

"Let's do it." You agree, shocking everyone into complete silence. The quiet humming of the magic wand now sounds deafening.

"W-what really?" Jin asks completely astounded.

You stare determinedly into Yoongi's shocked eyes, "Yeah, why not. Maybe a good orgasm could get me to chill. Are you up for it?"

"Oh shit." Jungkook gapes at you. The bunny tail falls from his fingers and onto the bed.

The magic wand's head disappears from your back, and an arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back into Jin's chest and away from Yoongi. Jin places the wand's head on your upper thigh, dangerously close to your core. "Are you sure?"

Looking up at him, you plead, "Yes, please take care of me."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the wand is placed between your legs, pressing hard into you and making you whimper. The strong vibrations are nearly overwhelming, even over your jeans. You weren’t used to not being in control as you only used your toys on yourself, and it felt oh so different with your friend behind you running the show and the two others watching you with their jaws hanging open. It turned you on in a way you’ve never been before.

“Jungkook, be useful and grab her leg would you.” Jin commands.

The youngest snaps out of his daze and sits down on the side of the bed similarly to Yoongi. He grabs your leg and pulls it towards him. Yoongi also spreads your other leg out more, exposing you to them even further.

You whine in frustration when the hand around your waist tightens, halting your hips from humping into the toy. Jin presses a button on the wand, making the speed increase even mroe.

“ Oooh , f-fuck, nnnngh ." You're a moaning mess, shaking at the unrelenting vibrations.

Warm lips brush your ear, and Jin whispers. "That's it love, just ride it out. Why don't you look at him?"

Not even realizing your eyes were closed, you open them and look with half lidded eyes at Yoongi. His grip tightens on your leg as he looks at you with blown out eyes.

"Think of all the times you used this on yourself, you naughty girl. Did you think of him, hmmm?" Jin continues to whisper in your ear.

"Mmmm, Yoongi." You gasp, as your mind falls into that head-space.

Teeth tug on your ear, pulling until you look up at Jin. "Do you think of all of us?"

"I-uggggh-y-yes." You admit, the shame of him knowing your secret turning you on even more.

You feel the rumble in his chest more than you hear it. The pride rolls off of him in waves.

"Show us the face when you come, go on, let go."

His words make you snap, and you come, fluids immediately soaking your underwear and creating a visible wet patch through your jeans. Your eyes roll back into your head as your body shakes. Jin keeps the wand in-between your legs, forcing you to ride out your orgasm. He only turns it off when your hand pushes at the hand holding the toy.

"Wow-that was..." Jungkook starts, words lost as he stares at your post orgasmic body.

"Y-yeah that was something alright." You pant out.

"Just something." Jin pouts, pushing you forward.

You can't help but laugh as you fall sideways on the bed. You turn your head to look at his tall frame behind you. A happy expression is on his face as he finally sees you smile genuinely. " Thanks, Jin ."

"Anytime, wait errrrr, I-" He cuts himself off as you start laughing hysterically. That is until the fox tail gets thrown into your face.

"What the hell Yoongi." You sit up, and are surprised to see Yoongi looking at you grumpily.

"What did I tell you, don't make me jealous." Yoongi says firmly. He picks up the bunny tail off the bed and looks at Jungkook. "Strip."

"R-really?" Jungkook's voice cracks. Quickly, he clears it and tries again, this time a lot deeper. "Really?"

Yoongi looks back to you and asks gruffly, "Is this clean?"

"Of course." You huff indignantly.

"Is it ok with you?" Jin asks, still ever the gentleman despite the earlier scene.

"Yeah." You lick your lips as you eye Jungkook. "That is, if you are ok with it Kookie."

Jungkook gulps. "P-please take care of me." He quotes.

Literally, how can the man be so cute and hot at the same fucking time. It is unfair.

"Then strip, baby boy." Yoongi repeats.

Jungkook stands up and quickly throws his shirt off. You can't help the "Fuck." that escapes your mouth at the sight of his chiseled chest. You want to lick it so bad. The red head continues to undress, stepping out of his pants to reveal strong thighs, but stops as his hands brush the band of his boxers.

To make Jungkook not alone in his nudity and hopefully more comfortable, you grab the ends of your sweater and pull it over your head in one fell swoop. This brings the attention back to you, and you feel three sets of eyes bore into your skin. You shimmy out of your jeans, your soaked underwear not doing much to hide your wet, swollen folds. Rolling over to be on all fours, you start crawling across the bed and towards Jungkook, leaving your head directly level with his hard cock.

"We can do it together Kookie, if you want?" You suggest. You shift your weight so you can move a hand up to trace his defined abs. The muscles ripple under your touch.

"Can we?" His breath stutters as you lean forward and lick a trail up his stomach.

" Of course, Kookie. May I?" You trace the tops of his boxer.

Jungkook nods vigorously. "Please touch me, all of me."

"Now that's a good bunny." You tease, brushing your hand down across his straining member.

Two hands appear on Jungkooks waist, and you finally notice Yoongi stood up and placed himself behind the red head. He pulls Jungkook's underwear down, leaving Jungkook completely bare.

From your position, it's easy for you to rest your weight on your elbows and lean down to take Jungkook's cock into your mouth.

"Ahhhh y/n." Jungkook whines, watching you bob your head up and down on his dick.

You tilt your head to look up at him, his expression completely fucked out. You smile up at him as best as you can with his cock in your mouth as he brushes his hands through your hair softly.

The bed dips next to you and you feel two hands deftly unhook your bra. Yoongi brings his hands around Jungkook to help slide it off completely, while Jin's hands skim your bare back before tugging your underwear down. You help him kick it off, leaving you and Jungkook completely naked between the fully clothed Jin and Yoongi.

Your lips come off of Jungkook's cock with a pop. "Yoongi, there should be some lube in that box somewhere."

Yoongi searches for the lube, and you try to see if you can peek around Jungkook to help spot it from your position. A smack on your rear makes you yelp, but you can't turn your head as Jungkook still has a needy grip on your hair.

"Don't start neglecting little Kookie now y/n." Jin massages your ass with his hands, just to give it another spank. "Go on, give him some nice licks."

You moan at Jin's dominance, liking his control over you. Wanting to please him, you stick out your tongue and start licking Jungkook's cock, making him moan in return. Just the tip though, to be a tease as you don't want him coming yet.

"Good girl." Jin praises, still groping your ass. You arch your back, going lower on Jungkook with your mouth, so close to his balls, while your ass hangs higher in the air.

"Found it." Yoongi exclaims, holding the lube in the air like a prize. He squirts a generous amount of lube on his finger before tossing the bottle over you to Jin. "This will probably be easier if you kneel on the bed."

Familiar hands grab your waist and pull back, dragging you across the bed to make room for Jungkook mid-lick. You can't help moaning again when your hair gets pulled from the action. Jungkook kneels on the bed, soothing your hair back as he sits on his knees in front of you.

Yoongi lifts his lubed finger and slowly circles Jungkook's hole, the dick in front of you twitching as a reaction. "How does this feel Jungkook?"

"Different, but good I think." Jungkook answers shakily.

It's your turn to feel a lubed finger circle your tight hole. You try to angle your hips so Jungkook and Yoongi have a better view of the finger dipping into you. When Jungkook's hips thrust forward, you assume a finger is slowly entering him as well.

"A-aaah, Oh god." Having your mouth sucking his dick, and Yoongi's finger in his ass is becoming too much for the man. "I'm going to nnngh shit-"

Your mouth leaves Jungkook's cock when Jin smacks your ass again. Yoongi's finger leaves Jungkook's asshole as well. "Well, we can't have that yet. Your still not a little rabbit yet." Yoongi smacks Jungkook's ass too before picking the rabbit tail up, covering the plug with a glob of lube.

"Wait, wait I want to see." Jin exclaims, with his finger sliding into you further. Your pussy clenches around nothing in want.

"You hear that, hands and knees, just like y/n." Yoongi commands.

Wanting to please and be pleased, Jungkook has his hands on the bed with his ass in the air in a heartbeat. You nearly coo at the sight. The red head still looks slightly nervous so you reach a hand underneath you to gather up your slick juices. You hold your now glistening finger out to Jungkook and he looks at it with wide eyes.

"Take a- nnnnngh" The finger in your ass pulls out, and the glass of your fox plug circles your hole teasingly. "a taste mmmmmh ahhhhhh."

Jungkook envelops your finger in his hot mouth, sucking it clean. He moans around your wet digit as he watches the anal plug enter you slowly, red fox tail now sticking out of your ass. You wiggle your ass playfully, making Jin laugh before slapping your bruising ass.

"We have a little vixen on our hands here." He chuckles. You feel a weight on the tail pulling at you as Jin plays with end of the toy. Your finger is nearly bit as the toy finishes being pushed into Jungkook's ass.

Quickly, you pull your finger out of his mouth as he grits out. "Y-yoongi ugggh."

"Looks like we have a little bunny here too." Yoongi chuckles at Jungkook's panting form, giving his firm butt a spank.

" Mmm such a pretty little bunny." Jin agrees. "Now go get him little fox."

You lunge forward, tail swinging, and mouth going down on Jungkook's cock. He chokes out in surprise, making you almost choke as he accidentally thrust his hips forward.

"Careful rabbit." Yoongi warns, pulling at the pink rabbit tail before stuffing it back in.

"Ahhhh ah!" Jungkook is a mess, his hips rotating in a chaotic rhythm between your mouth and the toy Yoongi is thrusting in and out of his tight asshole.

It doesn't take long until Jungkook comes, his hot, white cum squirts into your mouth. You swallow around his cock, milking him dry as Yoongi continues to thrust the toy in and out to carry out the young man's orgasm.

The two of you stop your ministrations on the bunny man as he tries to squirm away from over stimulation. He collapses on the bed, panting heavily.

"You ok there Jungkook?" Jin asks worriedly.

Rubbing the young man's back, you try to help him calm down. Your hand reaches to take the tail out of him, but he wiggles his butt away from you.

"N-no, please, I want to keep it in. If that's ok?" Jungkook whines, turning to look at the toy.

"Of course, it looks cute on you." You pat the pink puff ball, making him groan as the plug jostles in him slightly. You quickly take your hand away. "Ah, sorry."

"S'all good." He slurs, smiling at you tiredly.

You sit back down on your butt. The fox tail splays out behind you, while your legs are bent and spread open in front of you. Yoongi's eyes are glued to your wet pussy, and you bite your lip nervously. After all that's happened, there's really nothing left to be embarrassed about.

"Yoongi." You call out, and his eyes shoot up to yours. "Do you want me to take care of you?"

The dark-haired man bites his own lip as his eyes run up and down your body. With his big hoodie on, you can't tell how affected he is by the situation. You get back on your knees and pull the ends of his hoodie up, ready to remedy it. Yoongi raises his hands in response, giving you permission to lift it up over his head. You do the same with his shirt, and your fingers trail down his torso to rest at the tops of his jeans.

Looking up, you want to get confirmation to continue, but before you can ask, soft lips are on your own, and your being pushed down against the bed. You gasp in surprise, allowing a hot tongue to enter your mouth and dominate your own. A moan from you echoes into his mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Using the element of surprise, you roll over, taking Yoongi with you. This leaves you straddling him, his hair fanned out against your bed. Yoongi bites at your lower lip and pulls, and you respond by grinding down on him, hard.

"Ahh, fuck y/n." His hands fly to your waist, trying to stop your motions. He doesn't want to blow his load right away.

Your teasing grin is wiped away when a bare knee comes onto the bed, right in front of you. Following the limb up, you see a huge dick, hard and red, straining up against a toned chest. The sight of bare broad shoulders nearly makes you choke.

How can a man be built this handsome?

Jin smirks down at you, as if he knows exactly what you are thinking. "I almost want to keep you."

Before you can give a snarky reply, or even think of one, Yoongi's hips thrust into yours, making your breath hitch. He continues to dry hump you, making sure you don't forget the position you are in.

"Y-yoongi mmmnnngh." you can't help that your hands start traveling over your own body, and fondling your bouncing breasts, delirious for more.

"Not a chance" Yoongi talks over your moans, glaring at the man half kneeling on the bed.

"Hmph, fine then. Hey, Jungkook." Jin calls out to the bunny watching from his curled-up spot. "Why don't you relieve Yoongi of his pants?"

Jungkook springs to action, crawling over to Yoongi and reaching between Yoongi's and your bodies. Yoongi holds you up so you don't start humping Jungkook's hand as the younger man unbuttons and unzips Yoongi's jeans. Hopping off the bed, Jungkook grabs the ends of Yoongi's jeans and gives a solid pull, taking it off in one go. Everyone looks back at the youngest surprised.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" Jin interrogates.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jungkook fires back smugly.

"Yes, that's why I fucking asked you, idiot." Jin seethes, glaring at the man with the bunny smile, now reaching to pull off Yoongi's underwear. With a quick tug, every one of you is now completely naked.

You take a moment to admire Yoongi's build as you rise up, positioning your pussy over his thick cock. Slowly, you slide down on him, taking your time. It's better than you ever fantasized and especially better than that purple dildo you own.

Yoongi hisses when you bottom out all the way down to his hilt. His fingers grip into your sides, leaving indents in your flesh. You take a moment, getting used to the stretch before slowly swiveling your hips. The reaction you get is immediate, both of you moaning loudly, and unashamedly.

A hand weaves through your hair, and pulls, using it as leverage to drag your head forward. You come face to face with a well-endowed cock. Jin guides it over your lips, and you open them obediently, allowing him to stuff his cock into your tight, little mouth. He uses the grip on your hair to control the speed in which you bob your head up and down.

If all that wasn't enough, Jungkook starts playing with the tail sticking out of your ass. Waving the end of the tail excitedly, you groan around Jin's dick as the plug shifts inside you. Jungkook gets more adventures and quickly grabs the base of the tail, fucking the plug in and out of your asshole. Eyeing Yoongi's dick plunging in and out of your vagina, Jungkook sets the rythm to match his elder's pace.

It's a sight to behold, that's for sure. Your riding Yoongi vigorously as your approaching your high, getting your face fucked by Jin, and a curious Jungkook probing at your ass with a fox plug. One of Yoongi's hands reaches up to fondle the balls smacking against your face, and Jungkook quickly follows Yoongi's example by fondling Yoongi's balls with a hand as well.

While your moans are muffled from Jin's cocks, the three men's moans are music to your ears. Their grunts are soft, and blend in beautifully with their panting breaths. With each of your holes being fucked tirelessly, it doesn't take long for you to come undone again. It sets off a chain reaction, your pussy clenching around Yoongi makes him explode into you, cum filling you up. The sight of Yoongi and you orgasming underneath him has Jin cumming into your mouth. You do your best to swallow as you ride Yoongi through the both of your orgasms.

"This is so fucking hot." Jungkook stares at awe at the scene before him. He's completely enchanted by the sounds of everyone's whines and moans, so desperate and needy, and stops fucking you with the fox tail.

Jin lets go of your hair, allowing you to collapse on Yoongi. The tall man pats your head before leaving to find something to clean everyone up with. Yoongi helps you roll off of him and his dick, tucking your exhausted form into his side. A soft look crossing his features as he brushes your hair away from your face.

"Hey." he says with a small smile.

"Hey, you." you reply with a matching smile.

"Hey, me." Jungkook adds in, feeling left out.

You giggle, snuggling more into Yoongi as he kicks out at Jungkook.

"Jungkook, I love you, but please leave." Yoongi says with a threatening tone.

"Fine, I see how it is." The words he says doesn't match the bunny grin on his face. He walks out of your room to help Jin find something to clean up with, pink tail still in his ass.

A finger comes up to your chin, tilting your face up. Your lips meet Yoongi's in a gentle kiss that makes you melt. He might have a hard time with telling you how he really feels, but this kiss tells you everything. So much so, you almost miss the sound of the front door banging open.

"Tacos are here!" Jimin's voice cheers loudly.

"Toilet paper too!" Sings Hoseok.

Yoongi scrambles up, the fastest you've ever seen him and he slams your bedroom door closed. He locks it and turns to look back at you completely exasperated.

"Shouldn't we help them out?" You ask worriedly.

"Ahhhhhhh why are you naked!?" Namjoon shrieks.

"Why aren't you naked!?" Jin shrieks back to successfully confuse Namjoon.

"Is that a rabbit tail Jungkook? Nice." Taehyung's deep voice echoes through the hall.

"Uhhhh, y/n made a mistake?" Jungkook tries.

"Nevermind." You grumble, making Yoongi smile at you deviously. "Let them suffer."

#btsghostie #btsghostiebingo #thehouseofbangtan #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts foursome #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi smut #suga fanfiction #suga smut #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #jin fanfiction #jin smut #fmmm #my writing #the d box

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washymylifeaway · 3 years

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SakuAtsu Fanfic recs pt2 leggo

I promised a pt 2 and here it is! Link to pt 1 here :) I was lazy so given summaries (I cped this time, but in the future I might paraphrase), and ofc these aren’t all of the ones I loved, just some :D So in no particular order, have some SakuAtsu <3

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading (esp cause I didn’t put individual warnings PLEASE make sure you’re okay with the content!!!!!!) and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

Teach Me, Tune Me, Tempt Me by Anonymous (E) 38.8k // Sakusa Kiyoomi needs to conquer many lifelong fears in order to enter his first romantic relationship. Miya Atsumu is there to guide him every step of the way, even if the one Sakusa desires is someone else.

Flowers Bloom In Our Masks by UnicornFlowers (G) 24.5k // "Mysophobia, also known as verminophobia, germophobia, germaphobia, bacillophobia and bacteriophobia, is a pathological fear of contamination and germs." "You read that off of Wikipedia." "That's the point, Omi-kun. I read up on it fer you."

the art of folding a handkerchief by Emlee_J (T) 5.6k // “Atsumu-san’s just realised he likes Sakusa-san,” Shouyou says simply, as though announcing the weather. “Ahh,” Bokuto nods sagely, standing up straight and nodding his head, as though this was a perfectly normal thing to hear and not monumental in any way. “'Ahh?'” Atsumu protests, indignantly, “what do ya mean ‘ahh?’” “We were wondering when you were going to notice,” Bokuto shrugs, and Atsumu gawps at him. “'Scuse me?” He splutters, and whips his gaze around to Shouyou, who bobs his head at him in confirmation. “How did you two notice before I did?” Atsumu blurts out. "Most people do," Shouyou says softly. -In which Atsumu develops something annoying, like feelings for a teammate, but at least he has a couple of wingmen and Tobio's seemingly infinite resources to help him out.

for whom the heart beats by cielelyse (T) 1.6k // Atsumu's heart keeps skipping a beat whenever Sakusa's around - so often that it's baffling and honestly downright concerning. "I think I might have a medical condition," he says into the phone. "Good," says Osamu, and hangs up.

as you are by papertulips (G) 5.8k // Kiyoomi learns that falling for Atsumu is the easiest thing in the world.

Hide and seek by badreputation (E) 10.5k // It’s just a fleeting infatuation. As long as he pushes through it he’ll manage. So what if nowadays there isn’t a night where he doesn’t dream of Sakusa pinning him down on his own bed, in the shower or make Atsumu go down on his knees in the hallway? Those are just pesky details.

People Will Say We're in Love by tirralirra (T) 9.5k // “Saku...Atsu? What does that even mean?” Atsumu says, squinting at the device. People seem to think that Sakusa and Atsumu are in love, so they come up with a list of things to do to deter that. Maybe it would work...if they weren’t in love.

do not separate! by aalphard (T) 5k // He knows he likes peanut butter and the tuna onigiri Uncle Shamu makes for him. He knows he likes volleyball and the way his daddy looks so, so cool when he’s on court. He knows he likes drawing and playing with toy swords. He knows he likes reading and it’s even better when Atsumu is the one reading for him. He knows he likes to have pancakes in the morning but he also really, really likes tamagoyaki and he knows his daddy can’t make those at all. He tries, but fails every single time. He knows his daddy’s teammates like him and he knows they’ll help him if he wants to play with them one day. But the thing is he likes Uncle Omi-kun more than he likes the rest of them and that is a secret he won’t tell anyone that’s not his daddy. He doesn’t like to make people sad.“Omi?” “Yeah?” “Nao said he likes you more than he likes the rest of the team. Don’t tell’em.” or atsumu is a single dad and kiyoomi can't help but fall for him.

you make my heart burn by myhopeisjhope (G) 9.2k // “What’s up with that awful expression?” Atsumu asked. He leaned against the counter with his hip, looking directly at Kiyoomi, his regular fox-line grin plastered on his face. Kiyoomi made eye-contact with him then, his eyebrows knotting in annoyance, but Atsumu was too interested in the cute pair of beauty marks above Kiyoomi’s eye to care about the glare that was sent his way. “What’s up with that awful hair?” Kiyoomi shot back. And that was exactly when Atsumu decided he liked the guy.

somewhere in the middle (i think we lied a little) by akanemnida (E) 4.3k // “Body worship,” Miya said instantly, after Kiyoomi asked him what he wanted as reward as the winner of their service ace competition. “I can do that,” Kiyoomi said with a frown. “God, you really are the vainest person on this planet—”Miya shook his head, smirking. “Nuh-uh, Omi-kun. I meant I wanted ‘ta worship ‘ya.”(Or: Sakusa and Atsumu and all the blurred lines in between.)

san'yō expressway, 6:17 pm by yamabato (T) 8.1k // Atsumu tilts his head to watch a slice of orange light bend over the impassive planes of Sakusa’s face. He is absolutely, ruthlessly beautiful. It makes Atsumu want to punch something—put his foot through the windshield—scream, maybe. Kiss him again, maybe. They have 344 kilometers to figure this one out.

affection by papertulips (G) 2.1k // "I gave you the key to my house for emergencies only." “This is an emergency.” “What?” Atsumu pouts, looking up at him with wide eyes that definitely work on Kiyoomi but he will never admit it. “I missed you.”

love could be labeled poison and we'd drink it anyways by myhopeisjhope (NR) 21.3k // "Huh?" is Atsumu's response, and it's seemingly the only thing the man could think of after the minute-long silence that stretched between them. "We should break up," Kiyoomi repeats, more clearly now. He doesn't let any emotion seep into his voice, keeping it neutral and detached, as if breaking up with Atsumu was the easiest thing ever, while in fact it's the complete opposite.

And I'll Ask for the Sea by meeks00 (T) 6.9k // When a couple of his teammates reveal that Atsumu has feelings for him, Sakusa doesn’t react well. It doesn’t help that Atsumu is his typical petty and salty self. --“Come on,” Atsumu is saying in a wheedling tone behind a bright grin. “Just stop,” Sakusa snaps suddenly. “Will you just leave me alone for once? I don’t even like you!”Normally, Sakusa’s words don’t phase Atsumu at all. He’ll talk over Sakusa or brush off any harsh words easily enough and might turn to someone else for the attention he apparently craves. But this time, Sakusa’s words seem to stop him cold, the smile freezing for just a moment on his face.

the Definition of Miya Atsumu, by Sakusa Kiyoomi by orphan_account (G) 4k // Miya Atsumu is a self-centred prick who thinks he's top shit. Underneath the word 'asshole' in the dictionary is a picture of his stupidly pretty face. Sakusa Kiyoomi's definition is, according to him, 100% correct, until he takes a closer look.

i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by liliapocalypse (T) 7.6k // Seeing Sakusa stressed out, Atsumu writes random letters on Sakusa’s skin to soothe him during the team’s assisted stretches. Somewhere along the way, the touches shift from barely tolerable to something Sakusa actively craved for. One day, though, Atsumu accidentally writes a confession instead.

it ain't no matter of 'if' honey, it's just a matter of 'when' by irleggsy (M) 2.1k // With a beer in one hand and an accusatory pointer finger on the other, Sakusa slurred, shouted even, “Atsumu. If you wear those godforsaken cutoff camo jorts one more fucking time I’m breaking up with you.”Atsumu made a noise in his throat caught somewhere between a wheeze and a squawk that came out more of an avant-garde honk noise than anything else. He stared up at Sakusa with wide eyes, a bewildered smile just barely glued onto his face. Or: The MSBY Black Jackals go to a bar. Sakusa likes to run his mouth when he's drunk.

dog eat dog eat dog world by perennials (T) 8.4k // You are your first and only line of defense against the universe.

Who Could Have Seen This Coming? by crone_zone (M) 16.7k // Peering out the side of his eyes at the man walking beside him, Sakusa wondered why he’d impulsively changed his mind about his plans this evening when he’d noticed Miya’s reluctance. Surely he wasn’t worried about this asshole, was he?--In which Sakusa impulsively invites Atsumu over to his apartment when he sees he's upset and something entirely unexpected happens: he realizes he likes this asshole. Cue [off-camera]sex, mutual confessions, insecurity, and adorable losers who are opposite in all the right ways.

Miya Atsumu's unwavering love for Sakusa Kiyoomi and an unholy amount of terrible food analogies that should not have the right to Exist by aiviloti (G) 5.6k // Five times Miya Atsumu talks to (harasses) his friends and sibling because he has feelings for Sakusa and doesn't know what to do or how to deal with them and the one time he talks to Sakusa about it. “How do you make friends apart from showering them in praise?” Atsumu wails one night, and Osamu thinks, oh god, here we go again.

Sakusa's Secret Admirer by TwilaFrost (T) 20.2k // Every day after practice, Kiyoomi finds another letter inside his shoe locker. It's only every signed: -❤ He's determined to find this person. Is it crazy to fall in love with someone you've never met?

take what's yours and make it mine by claudusdiei (T) 5.9k // (this has a second fic hehe) atsumu falls in love four times in his life (or: in which atsumu gets his heart broken twice, has the self-awareness of a sober mule and really likes yellow tulips)

School Bus Yellow by yuuki (G) 4.9k // Atsumu has a crush on Sakusa, and it’s kind of ridiculous how much he likes a guy who wears ugly colored jackets and is afraid of germs.Though, Atsumu’s probably not all that great himself. He’s still figuring that part out.

show me how by emeraldpalace (G) 2.9k // Sakusa isn’t sure when or how it happened, but the fact remains: Miya Atsumu has become a comfortable constant in his life.

touch me (i want you to) by melstar (G) 3.9k // He should have seen it coming, really. Spend six months tip-toeing around the line of domesticity with the team’s resident germaphobe, and there was no way he’d be able to think of the guy the same way anymore. Or, Atsumu touches Sakusa's arm once and thus begins a downward spiral into the inescapable jaws of attraction.

Dreaming of You, Talking About You by kitkatwrites (T) 1.1k // Osamu learns that Atsumu talks in his sleep, especially about a certain wing spiker from Tokyo.

If your world falls apart, I'd start a riot by Serendipity (jenjaemrens) (NR) 3.1k // "It was Atsumu who was the older brother, but it was Osamu who was more protective of him. He would always protect Atsumu from things around them that could hurt him. "Or, the story of Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu through the eyes of Miya Osamu.

but soft what light by min_mintobe (T) 2.1k // "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, Bokkun—" Atsumu drawls, "—hot. "In which Miya Atsumu woos Sakusa Kiyoomi by (gratuitously, seductively) quoting Shakespeare. One-shot.

sakusa kiyoomi's fixation on (miya atsumu's) lips by catsoncocaine (E) 3.7k // Everything about Atsumu is fucking beautiful, but there is one specific part of his that is like kryptonite for Kiyoomi. It is both his curse and his remedy, rendering him useless and yet egging him on to move at the same time. Kiyoomi hates it as much as he loves it.

The Jacket In Your Closet by dai_naning (T) 8.6k // According to the gossiping players around him, Miya Atsumu is an asshole. He's an incredible player in court and an obnoxious person off the court. He taunts people, points out their weakness, and doesn't give a shit if he's disliked or not. Some even say his teammates ostracize him. Sakusa looks at Miya Atsumu and can only see a player who keeps his eyes firmly forward, demanding the same to the players who want to stay on the court. Sakusa can't fault him for that. (That doesn't erase the fact that he's an asshole though. And that he's still the one who gave a jacket to a stranger.)

sakusa kiyoomi is....an uncle? by miyaudrey (T) 5.9k // “Oh, by the way, my nieces and nephews are going to be there.” “Your what now?” Or, Atsumu finds out three hours prior to a Sakusa family gathering that Kiyoomi is an uncle.

Confessions of a V-League Setter by Anubis_2701 (T) 3.3k // "Never?" Sakusa's lips thinned. "No, never. Now stop talking to me." Or, Atsumu discovers that Sakusa Kiyoomi, germaphobe and reluctant heartthrob of the Black Jackals, has never been confessed to before. He decides to change that.

Touch Me by cajynn (E) 3k // Sakusa actually likes being touched but he's very picky when it comes to who and how. When the who turns out to be Miya Atsumu he has a crisis.

Please Stop Crying by dauwtrappen (G) 2.9k // Friday starts off well until it doesn’t and Kiyoomi can hear something crash, feel something snap inside him when Miya, about to set him up for a quick attack, suddenly starts crying in the middle of their three-on-three. Kiyoomi doesn’t even react when the ball bounces off his head, doesn’t cringe when his face is smushed against the net briefly because he forgets to land in front of the it. He’s too shocked, too appalled with the tears pouring out from Miya’s eyes to care.

I can't take much more of your hesitating by playexodus (T) 2.7k // The curved sides of Atsumu’s pecs peek through that absurd tank top at just the right angle. Sakusa swallows. “Your entire chest is hanging out of that shirt. We’re in public. You could at least pretend to be a decent, morally upright person. Not to mention that this Los Angeles beach boy aesthetic is terrible on you.”Glancing back down at Atsumu’s chest to glare at his sharp, glistening collarbones is a bad idea. Sakusa wills his eyes to stay fixated on Atsumu’s face. As it turns out, this too, is a bad idea. “Oh?” Atsumu turns his half-lidded gaze onto Sakusa, the corners of his mouth curling. “Just to be clear: you’re definitely not enjoying the view then, Omi-Omi?”

curse breaking by allicanseeispink (T) 9.2k // Nearing the fourth hour of the silent treatment, Kiyoomi’s already frayed nerves began to whittle down to their last fibers. Today, it was raining. A proper Tokyo monsoon tantrum just shy of a full-blown typhoon that left puddles on sidewalks and fell from an angle so wicked it eluded umbrellas. It was raining and they haven’t spoken in almost four hours. (In which Sakusa wanders into the minefield that is Atsumu's feelings and tries not to blow things up.)

Summer Special: Omigiri by mika60 (T) 6.9k // Miya Osamu always comes up with the perfect marketing plan for his shop, even if it involves the two biggest idiots he knows.

a list of things sakusa kiyoomi hates by BrenH (T) 7.3k // “Just fuckin’ write shit down so ya remember it then. ”It was probably supposed to be a joke, just Osamu being as annoying and unhelpful as always, just reminding him that he shouldn’t have bothered trying to count on his brother for help. He’s forgotten about the whole thing until a few days later when he’s shopping and comes across a small, black notebook shaped like a cat, and his brother’s stupid suggestion flashes through his mind. Before he knows it, the cute little notebook is dropped in his basket, purchased, and in his possession. Or, the one where Osamu suggests Atsumu keep a notebook to track all the things Sakusa hates that he does, and he takes it further than he means to.

A Challenge, A Cat, and A Confession by Kitaa (G) 6.2k // Atsumu enjoys bothering Sakusa. One day he bothers him enough to be invited over to his apartment, only to discover that Sakusa has a plant, a cat, and a cute laugh.

Multiples Of Two by yuuki (G) 3.3k // He does everything in multiples of two. The day Sakusa Kiyoomi died, Atsumu checked his pulse twenty-eight times. Okay, so Sakusa Kiyoomi has never died. And Atsumu has never been close enough to Sakusa to be able to check his pulse. So what if Atsumu is just being dramatic again? He’s allowed to be dramatic when he’s in love with a man who has less emotion than a rock.

gold rush by sketchedsmiles (T) 18k // When the MSBY Black Jackals sign their newest team member, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Atsumu makes it his personal responsibility to befriend the indifferent player.

got sand in my eyes (and my shorts too, damn you miya) by luxnoctre (T) 4.7k // On one of their rare rest days, Hinata takes the part of the MSBY team to the beach. Chaos ensures. (or alternatively, do not piss off Sakusa when he is in the middle of relaxing)

mortality is found in the flesh of your sins by citronnes (M) 10.6k // dickhead one, sakusa kiyoomi. dickhead two, miya atsumu. neither understand how to communicate. Pray tell, why are you drawn to him?Are you drawn to him in the way he looks beautiful even when crying? When his eyes are red, shiny tears streaking down, lips quivering, is he beautiful?

This was v long ahahaha.... Anyway, is this finished? No LOL, but I’ll just make small additions via reblogs (?) over time. Maybe :) Sorry if you wanted me to ramble on about SakuAtsu,,,, slide into my messages/asks for that LOL. Maybe over time I’ll add the commentary from other posts I make in the future :’)

#sakuatsu #haikyuu fanfic rec #haikyuu fic recs #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq fic rec #anime #manga #sakuatsu fic recs #i'm a lazy person #also if you saw me saying i was gonna post kyouhaba #no you didnt #like i just said #lazy #there are a lot of fics in that one #anyway #all of these are really good #like i couldnt not put them all #ya know?

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yutahoes · 3 years

Text

Otou-Chan

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader (Y/N) Smut

(Chapter Seventeen)

Summary: 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Warning: Fluff, Phone Sex, Mutual Masturbation

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

17. Growing

“Are you sure you can go to work now?” Yuta asked as he stopped in front of the publishing house. It’s been three days since he found (Y/N) in their home and although he didn’t tell her, he already bought their old house. That way, when her dad comes back, he can ask him to go to rehab. The girl nodded while checking her bag. “So this is how it feels like…” She gave him a curious look. Feels like what? “Bringing your daughter to her first day of school.”

(Y/N) had to giggle at that, Yuta is so cute. “Are you going to cry, otou-chan?” She teased but Yuta just chuckled, pinching her cheek. “I’ll call you later.” He raised an eyebrow at her. She would always say that but until now, he doesn’t know her number yet. “I promise, I’ll call.” She said before opening the door of the car. Yuta shook his head laughing to himself as he started the car. Let the waiting game begin.

The two were out for lunch, Jaehyun is abroad and Johnny is not around, leaving (Y/N) alone in the publishing house. She wanted to get lunch with her co-workers but she had to finish the illustration she’s tasked to do. And since she’s bored, she decided to get her phone and click speed dial 2. The phone was ringing as she bit her lip, deciding if this is a good idea or not. “Mosh mosh, Yuta Nakamoto desu.” And she automatically smiled at that. He sounded so hot talking in Japanese.

“Mosh mosh, (Y/N) desu.” She repeated while giggling that made the guy smile.

Yuta cleared his throat, seeing the investors look at him weirdly. He put down his phone for a second, making Doyoung shake his head at him. “Please give me a second. It’s an important call.” Then returned his phone to his ear, turning around from the group of guys. Doyoung just gave the men an apologetic smile then glared at Yuta. “Hey, (Y/N).”

“Are you busy?” she asked, obviously overhearing what he said. “I’ll just call you later.”

“It’s fine. Did you eat lunch?” She said no and he sighed. “I’ll order food for you, what do you want?”

She had to gasp at that. “Jungwoo is already buying me food. Go back to your meeting, Yuta. Call me when you're done.” He asked if he can do that and she just said yes.

“I’ll call you later.” She immediately ended the call that made him sigh then returned to the meeting as if nothing happened. Doyoung sighed at the smiling CEO. He’s really lovesick for his own good.

(Y/N) finished her lunch and is doing her work when her phone rang, grinning at the person who said hello on the other line. “Did you have lunch?” Yuta asked and she hummed a yes. “Busy?”

She shook her head although he clearly cannot see her. Jungwoo only smiled while watching her. “Just finalizing some illustrations.” She claimed then put down her drawing pen to focus on him. “Is the meeting done? What happened?”

There was an obvious shift in Yuta’s voice that made her bite her lip. Is that a wrong question? Did something bad happen during the meeting? Is she at fault? “The company has new investors from New Zealand.” He said then sighed. “More paper works, more production to look after.” She giggled at that. At least it’s good news. But this only means that Yuta will get stressed once again.

Three days of spending the night in his place made her aware of the demanding job of the CEO. Sometimes, she can hear him in the middle of the night still talking to some people. He would often stay up late just working on his laptop and even while eating, his eyes were glued on his phone. “I’m staying over at Jungwoo’s place tonight. We have to finish the manhwa for publication on Friday.” She claimed and Yuta hummed in response.

“I’ll be out of the country on Friday.” He shared that surprised her. Suddenly? “I’ll leave the apartment keys to you if you want to stay there on weekend. I’ll be back Monday night.”

She really needed a place to stay. She should stop going to someone’s house just to stay the night. She realized that when Yuta left the apartment keys to her that Friday morning, even asking her if she wanted souvenirs from New Zealand. Honestly, she wanted to come with him but she can’t leave especially now that she had to finish the first chapter of her manhwa set for publishing.

She stayed at his place that Saturday morning since Lucas is back in Korea and she wanted Jungwoo to spend some quality time with him. The place seemed empty without him. How can he live here alone for years? Does he bring girls over? Or maybe he’s living with her girlfriend. Wait, does Yuta have a girlfriend? Is he married? She shook her head, why would he show interest in her if that’s the case?

She decided to do the laundry first, putting her clothes inside the washer. (Y/N) noticed one of her bra missing. Maybe she left it at Jungwoo’s place but that’s hardly the case. Lucas is sensitive about female’s clothes in their apartment. So where could it be? (Y/N) also put Yuta’s clothes in the washer since the ahjumma who was supposed to clean his house cannot go today. Maybe she can just clean up the house in exchange for staying here.

His clothes smelled like him and she suddenly missed him. Why does he have to be abroad now? And why is she so horny for him? Checking the calendar, it must be her ovulation period. Well, that explains her getting this horny. The vibrator, she thought, Yuta has it. Is it still here?

After cleaning the living room, she took a quick shower and wore his larger white shirt. (Y/N) had to borrow his computer so she went inside his study room and opened his desktop computer, surprised to see pictures of her as his screen wallpaper. Well, if this isn’t Yuta she would be terrified. How did he get these pictures? While she’s staying here? She opened the browser to send Johnny an email but it only restored some tabs. (Y/N) smiled, he was searching topics about flowers used for confession, how to tell a girl you love her, and even things like the traditional way of pursuing someone. Is he that serious?

And since she already has access to his computer, she decided to dig deeper and find out something about the guy. Maybe he can find his kinks by searching his browser history. But it’s clean, even a secret folder isn’t available on his computer. Doesn’t he watch porn? How is he so good in bed? Is he born with it? Or he had other girls to practice with? Well, the way they first met is rather smooth. Maybe he really is a fuckboy. So what’s with all this romance shit?

An engine search of nearby alcoholic rehab centers got her attention. He did say that before, he wanted to put her dad in rehab and have him sober. But how can Yuta, a total stranger, force her dad to do that? And where is he? He never picked up her calls and she didn’t know any friends that he has. He never returned to the house as well. A smile escaped her lips when she found out he searched about how to make bungeoppang. Why is Yuta confusing her?

Her phone rang that surprised her, an international number. Speaking of the devil. “Hi, have you eaten?” Yuta asked and she giggled. Did he call just to ask this? “Are you at work? Busy?”

“I’m at home.” The line got silent for a few seconds before she clarified, “I mean your home.” If possible, she can see how he smiled on the other line. “Sorry, I didn’t ask permission but I used your computer. And your clothes.”

The guy on the other line laughed. “It’s fine.” Then he stopped. “You saw the wallpaper?” She giggled at that, teasing that he’s too obsessed with her. “I had to keep myself sane when you’re not beside me.” (Y/N) wanted to swoon at that. How can he say those words so flawlessly? No doubt, he has some practice. “Wait, hold on…” he started. “You’re wearing my clothes?”

“Well yeah. I had to wash my clothes so I borrowed yours.” She bit her lip. Two can play a game. “Is that a bad thing, daddy?” she asked in a whisper and Yuta cursed. “Will I get punished, otou-chan?”

She could hear something closing on the other line then a click as if he’s locking something. “Fuck baby!” he cursed once again before sighing hard. “It’s still early here and the investors are here. Please don’t do this to me.” (Y/N) had to giggle at that. “Besides I’m not thrilled with the idea of punishing you. I just want to see you in my clothes.”

“Do you want a video?”

Yuta laughed. “Save it for later. I’ll call you when I’m alone in the hotel room.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I’ll be waiting.” He giggled. Yuta had to remind her to get something to eat before dropping the call since he has a meeting to attend to. Now, (Y/N) had to get herself busy while waiting for their sexy night time call.

She already sent her work to Johnny, finished cleaning the house, and even finished the work Ten had asked help with. Yet there’s still no phone call from Yuta. Did he forget? Is he too busy? But she can’t stop her horniness now. Why did Ten ask her to edit his illustration? A phone sex one shot where the couple had the best masturbation of their life. And now, it made her excited and wet.

The vibrator, she thought. She’s sure Yuta hid it somewhere here in his house. Or in his office? How can she let off alone? Maybe she’ll look for amazing porn and just finger herself. Or she could call Yuta? No, he might be really busy. Glancing at his bed, there might be a way she can get off with his help.

She had never done it before. Totally, a first. But she had seen a lot of deal like this in porn and it’s pretty normal. She removed her sweatpants, leaving her in just her underwear and Yuta’s white shirt. She felt dirty just imagining what she would do to an inanimated object and it can’t help that she’s thinking about Yuta’s reaction when he sees his sheet wet. Will he let him see it?

She sat on his pillow, letting her wet core rub against the dark sheets and she moaned at the friction. It was good. Really good. But something is missing. Him.

She wished Yuta is here then maybe she’s not humping his pillow and he’s already giving her the best orgasm like what he always does. Maybe she can ride his cock or even better, he can eat her out. And the thought sent shivers down her spine as her wet core brushed against his pillow.

The imagery of Yuta under her, riding his face rather than his pillow sent (Y/N)’s mind into a frenzy. How would those red lips kiss her pussy lips? How can that warm tongue explore her cavern? She moaned at the thought, holding the headboard using her left hand or she might bump her head from the pleasure. Her right hand pinched her nipples, squeezing her breast imagining Yuta’s hands doing the deed. There’s no doubt, Yuta is the only one who can give her the orgasm she needs.

She was close, too close when her phone rang. Both her hands were occupied and she’s still reaching that much-needed orgasm so she didn’t bother about the call. It stopped for a second then it rang again that made her annoyed. Who would call her? Pissed off, she accepted the call without checking the caller ID. “What took you so long?” She bit her lip at that. Yuta. “Are you busy? Did you eat?”

And that’s the least of her concerns now. She humped the pillow faster, letting her moans escape her mouth to reach Yuta then maybe he could get the idea. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, obviously pissed off and it just sounded so hot against her ear. The girl dropped her phone in front of her, moaning loudly that if he had neighbors they’ll obviously hear.

She whimpered at the pleasure of her orgasm, rubbing her wetness on his pillow and even leaving a stain. (Y/N) picked up the phone and Yuta was asking for a video call. Really? When she’s just done with her orgasm? She declined the request and put the phone against her ear. “Hello?” she said in a shaky breath.

Yuta clucks his tongue at her. “Good?” He sounded agitated that she didn’t answer back, scared. “Is it another vibrator?” Oh yeah, she thought, Jungwoo’s vibrator. “Are you having fun without me, baby girl?” She gulped at his words. It sounded so hot that she grew wet again. This is bad. “Did you lose your tongue, baby girl?”

He sounded so dominant on the phone that she wanted to see him, maybe he’s in bed stroking his cock with a serious face. Maybe he looks angry and she wanted to see that. She shouldn’t have canceled that video request. “No, otou-chan,” she said softly.

“You were moaning loudly earlier. Why are you so quiet now?” he asked and she bit her lip. Totally hot. Her fingers trailed on her clit and she gave a breathy whimper. “What are you doing now?” But she didn’t answer, biting her lip to prevent moaning. He cursed in Japanese that made her arch her back at how erotic that sounded. “Were you touching yourself, princess?” She answered a muffled yes, turning around that she’s lying stomach flat on his bed as she inserted a finger inside her. “Is it satisfying? Your fingers?”

“No, Yuta,” she answered just as a moan escaped her mouth. Yuta laughed on the other line. “I want you.”

He chuckled once again. “Doesn’t sound like it, princess.” he teased. “Open your video, I want to see you.” A video request can be seen again and she only saw him in a suit, lying in what looks like a bed before looking the other way in embarrassment.

The guy can see her in his shirt, her nipples perked up. He can’t really see what she’s doing but the shaking of her body made him aware that she really is fingering herself. How wild, he thought. Why is she so horny like this? He opened his dress shirt then his pants, touching his cock which started to get hard at the image presented in front of him. “Princess, let me see you. I’ll make you feel good.”

(Y/N) had to fix her phone so that he could see her fully and she moaned when she realized that he was also touching himself. "Yuta…" she said breathlessly. "I want you."

"Oh sweetheart, I wish I'm there right now." He groaned against his phone. "I wanted to do a lot of things to you," Yuta said sensually while touching his body. "I want your pretty lips wrapped around my cock." And he changed the angle of the video to where he was jerking his hard rock arousal. "I want you squirming in orgasm under me. To dick you down real hard that you can only remember my name." She kept on calling for his name as her fingers sent her to the edge of her orgasm. "(Y/N)." He called sensually. "Baby!"

And that does it. She orgasmed on his bed for the second time but this time, she spoiled his sheets. Yuta was chuckling as she was riding out her orgasm, his hand still lazily jerking his cock. "Naughty girl." He teased. "Do you like soiling the sheets?"

"I'm sorry." She said biting her lip. "And it's not only the sheet that I stained." She said guiltily then showed him the pillow with a wet mark. "I'll just wash these tomorrow..."

"Don't." Yuta reacted instantly. "Leave it. I want it on my bed when I return on Monday."

"Pervert."

"Says the girl who was humping my pillow." She rolled her eyes. "You like unanimated objects, is that your kink?" He asked and she gave him a curious expression. "My pillow. That stupid vibrator…"

"Speaking of the vibrator, where is that?"

Yuta chuckled. "First drawer to the left side table." She dropped her phone for a while before checking the place Yuta mentioned, surprised to see the object shattered inside. A gasp escaped her mouth and he laughed once again. "I already told Jungwoo that I will pay for it." He reasoned out and she shook her head, still assessing the object. How did he break this? Is he that mad? "So say goodbye to my pillow for making you cum." Does he have anger issues?

But that is hot, she had to admit. She feels loved; like someone is being really possessive of her. "Can you calm down Yuta?" She sighed. "You should break yourself for always putting me on edge." He giggled at that. "Are you going back on Monday?" He nodded and she pursed her lips. "Can I stay the night on Monday? Lucas is still here in Korea."

Again, a chuckle. "Sure but I won't let you go to work on Tuesday." She raised an eyebrow at him and he just smirked. "Do you think you can walk properly after I'm done with you? I don't think so, princess." She smiled at that. Well, she wanted that.

Yuta promised to message her in the morning and asked her to get some rest already. He smiled when the video call dropped. This girl, really. Why is she shaking him like this? And why isn't it Monday yet?

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

Chapter 16 / Chapter 18

Happy New Year Everyone! 🎉🎆🎇

#yuta smut #yuta nakamoto smut #nct smut #yutasmut #yutanakamotosmut #nctsmut

82 notes · View notes

kittasune · 3 years

Text

“winter warmth”

“WINTER WARMTH”

📘┊pairing. akaashi keiji x gn!reader

🔖┊tags. post-time skip, fluff, co-worker friends to lovers, mutual pinning, holidays, seasons abloom

📚┊wc. 4.3k

📖┊note. I wrote this for akaashi’s birthday but i’ve been meaning to write this fic for a long time now. well, here’s my first fic posted on tumblr! feel free to message me your thoughts! i plan to make this an on-going series of small one-shots so… please expect more in the future.

The biting cold that accompanies the change in seasons looms over the metropolitan city of Tokyo, the city where Akaasji Keiji was born, where his career is, and most importantly; where the love of his life is – the International Library of Children’s Literature. Literature has always been one of Akaashi’s passions to pursue as it opens endless doors of opportunities that could grant him success in the future. The majority of his stress stems from his work,

“Having a job and a stable career makes you successful!”

“You should have a steady income first before you pursue your passions so you have a stable foundation to fall back on just in case things don’t work out, Akaashi-san.”

He can hear the string of back-handed compliments and empty advice he’s received from co-workers and relatives alike echo in the back of his mind, clouding his thoughts and possible future realities he wishes to envision. Literature is one of his hobbies that became his career due to his love that caused him to become attached. Manga, novels, plays, poetry, and even textbooks sometimes caught Akaashi’s attention and he couldn’t help but consume the knowledge and navigate the uncharted waters that flow through the pages in inky waves. The beautiful thought of literature that had once been untouched and pure in Akaashi’s child-like wondrous mind has now become something as lifeless as house-hold chores to check off a list.

Now, as he sits at his desk in his office cubicle eying the unsurmountable manga panels that consume more than half of his desk with their shiny patent ink and crisp lines framing the edges of each page – he can’t help but sigh.

“You know, I’ve always been told that it’s bad luck to sigh.” Akaashi perked up at the sound of ceramic hitting the surface of his white acrylic desk. He looks up to see you holding a matching mug brimming with the café nectar that he so desperately needs.

“Is that so? You sound so sure of yourself considering that your break ended 5 minutes ago.” Akaashi hid his face in his hands to mask the upturned corners of his lips pulling into a smirk.

“Thank you for the coffee, I know that I’ll need it considering that Hide x Seek’s 100th Chapter is going to be released in this edition of Shonen Jump.”

“I heard that from Udai-san, he seemed so excited that he wanted to make this chapter special by making it holiday-themed with all the holidays being piled all together at the end of the year.” You said with a look of contemplation as you sipped the burning liquid in your mug.

“Have you read Hide x Seek before?” Akaashi leans back in his office chair and sets his gaze upon you while placing the cup next to his lips, the creaky sound apparent from the quality of wornness and evidence of sleepless nights he’s spent hunched over reviewing and editing the work assigned to him.

“I think I’ve read it once before, it’s the one where the high school students hide from an intruder but they don’t know who’s the intruder… but it ends up being the ghost of a former student that seeks to kill out of revenge and spite the higher-ups who have wronged her, right?” You said while fixating your gaze to the edge of his desk as if to recall the synopsis from memory, your coffee mug was left forgotten on Akaashi’s desk as you appear lost in your thoughts.

“Not quite, you just said the plot summary of Peek-a-boo? not Hide x Seek.”

Akaashi said while looking pointedly at your mug on his desk that would surely leave a faint circle as he knows you tend to haphazardly spill its contents as you “vigorously” stir your coffee to ensure that all additives are well-mixed. He recalls asking as to why making a vortex in a cup smaller than his hand is necessary, to which, you responded,

“I need everyone to get along harmoniously and seamlessly blend with one another, imagine drinking a cup of coffee that you’ve prepared and longed for only for it to have lumps and chunks at the bottom, no-thank-you!”

The dim grimace on your face spoke volumes of a less-than-happy experience you must have gone through and as a result, the chaotic meticulousness of your coffee shenanigans intrigued Akaashi to befriend you.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice you flush red at the realization that you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your co-worker, friend, and “potential suitor” as your friend lightly put as a shallow jab at your private love-life *hint – it’s practically non-existent.

You sigh. “Maybe I’ll give Hide x Seek a read during a vacation or something.” You mumble the words, cursing yourself for looking like a fool in front of your longtime friend, Akaashi Keiji.

The image of you grumbling and lamenting in front of Akaashi mirrors a panel sitting on his desk that has him fondly reminiscing the same image of you from last spring about how you had no one to accompany you to the Hanami Festival and so, he acquiesced to your invitation thus, establishing a tradition in your friendly relationship.

“I think it would be best to return to your desk, y/n, wouldn’t want to lose the privilege of seeing you every day and being the object of your admiration.” Akaashi propped himself up on his desk, resting his head on his forearms in a lazy slouch peering up at you with one eyebrow raised and a ghost of a smile playing upon his lips.

“You should really stop flirting with me at work, Akaashi. One of these days I might get the wrong idea and think you’re into me or something…” You chastise him while walking back to your desk which is conveniently next to Akaashi’s.

“I’m hopelessly enamored at the thought of you and it frightens me to think of a day where you’ll be missing from my side…” Akaashi thought as he proceeded to leaf through the panels laid out strategically on his desk. He looked over at you as you started to situate yourself with your work and said, “I wouldn’t sigh if I were you, I heard that if you sigh it brings you bad luck.”

“Stop mocking me and go do your work!”

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The clock struck at 5:00 P.M., then at 6:00 P.M., just right before the clock struck at 7:00 P.M. you blearily glance at the time blaring in the corner of your monitor and drift your eyes to the decorative hourglass sitting on your desk. The intricate gold timepiece hid tucked away in the corner of your desk hiding behind a framed picture of you and Akaashi posed in front of a bookstore where a work-related event took place. A faint memory surfaces from the back of your subconscious from earlier this year.

“Akaashi, why do you have a plastic apple on your desk?” You glare at the object as a red plastic apple seems so peculiar to associate with Akaashi, in your mind at least, so you questioned its purpose. Is it for sentimental reasons? Are apples his favorite type of fruit? Do apples have an artistic appeal or is it just a trend?

“It’s a tomato.” He responded, not once looking up to acknowledge your effort to engage in conversation. As Akaashi is seemingly focused on the task at hand, you further prodded with your innocent questions wanting his attention so you could lose yourself in the oceans that reside in his deep blue eyes.

“Then, why do you have a tomato on your desk?”

“Keeps me focused on the task at hand. Have you heard of the Pomodoro technique before, y/n?” Akaashi still focused on his work while you continued questioning.

“The time management one, right? I think I’ve read about it somewhere before if I’m being honest…” You lose yourself in your thoughts as you attempted to recall the correct definition from an online blog you briefly glanced at.

“Then you should know about how it helps you complete your work in a timely manner while balancing the efficacy and quality of the work produced.” Akaashi stopped in his ministrations and averts his attention to the now glaringly pointless object occupying space on his desk that was a prize Bokuto won at the Momiji-gari festival they attended together last October.

“Yes, that’s the time management aspect after all.”

“If I may then, why is it you stress about not having enough seconds in a minute, enough minutes in an hour, and not enough hours in a day to complete your work and yet have all the time to talk to me well over your allotted break time?” he swivels around in his chair to face you, steel blue eyes locked in a heated rage-ridden gaze with yours.

Too stunned to talk from the blunt harshness of his words, you reply, “Quite snappy today are we? At least I know now you pay attention when I mindlessly make a fuss about my workload.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you with my statement, I was going for light-hearted banter at best… I guess I can blame it on the weather. The heatwave must be getting the better of me.” Akaashi said while pulling at his necktie, an excuse to keep his hands preoccupied and mind distracted in avoidance from the awkward silence beginning to build between the two of you.

“Tell me about it, I never really liked summer as a season or the heat.” You crinkle your upturned nose in an act of disdain as you face the glass windows doing nothing to shield you from the overbearing sunlight pouring into the office.

“With summer comes the sun, with the sun comes light, and with light comes warmth,” Akaashi says so matter-of-factly that makes you wonder what’s his favorite holiday. He interrupts your train of thought by asking, “What’s your favorite holiday, y/n- san?”

“Winter, I like the snow. Or more of what snow symbolizes…” you trail off towards the end of your sentence deep in thought.

“Usually people like winter because of the holidays and spending time with their loved ones under a kotatsu. What’s so enchanting about snow? When you touch it, it just melts… not to mention it’s cold.” Akaashi looks over at you inquisitively that could almost be mistaken for scrutiny if a stranger were to eavesdrop between you two.

“If you are out in the first snowfall of the season with someone you like, true love will blossom between you.” You recite from memory what the old woman who owned the corner store grocery near your place told you during your times as a highschooler.

“Besides love, if you make a wish when the first snow blankets the city your wish will come true.” You swing your legs to-and-fro underneath your desk covered from the public’s eye but Akaashi can tell it’s one of your habits you do when you’re excited. The sparkle in your eye accompanied by the ecstatic hand gestures would also giveaway your feelings of excitement but Akaashi knows better. You stop in your motions and jerk towards him almost like you’ve had an epiphany, the sparkle in your eye flashed again mimicking that of a light-bulb going off.

“Snow also signifies that all lies will be forgotten, isn’t that refreshing? The thought of new beginnings with the first snow sounds so romantic! I wish I had someone to enjoy it with…” You take a chance and glance at Akaashi to gauge his reaction to your statement, he already beat your intentions by turning back to face his desk at lightning speed so you wouldn’t see the faint flush of red on his cheeks that bloomed after your profession of love for snow. He didn’t want you to know he was flustered because of the way you turned to him and uttered the words ‘besides love,’ to his face, and the realization that he was going to respond with a simple, ‘hm?’ had him leaning further into his desk in embarrassment.

“Akaashi, what’s your favorite season? You know mine and my reason now.”

“Same as you, I like winter.”

“Why?”

“The holidays.”

“Boring!”

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You shake your head in strong efforts to clear the fog that clouded your mind during that flashback.

“Nodding off so soon?” Akaashi’s voice startled you back to reality as you whip your head towards him.

“It’s almost 7:00, we were supposed to get off work an hour ago like someone said..” you fix your steely gaze on his figure hoping he could feel the mock-resentment radiating off you in waves. “I hope we get overtime pay for this as this isn’t the first time this has happened.” You lean against the back of your chair raising your arms above your head in a half-stretch with valiant efforts to hear the satisfying pop of your back.

“I made no promises, I was going to tell you this when we got off but Udai-san said we have the day-off tomorrow. The reason behind it ‘to reward you guys for your dedication to the company’ were his exact words.” Akaashi said as he began to clear his desk wanting to get to his apartment as soon as possible to sleep. This week took more of a toll on him than he would like to admit, the endless piles of work, deadlines to meet, and the cold that accompanied the winter months were taking a toll on him. The holiday season’s cold seeped into the bitterness of Akaashi’s hidden emotions, like an ice pick scratching the surface of Akaashi’s lonesome facade he tried to hide under cool indifference. In stark contrast, you acted as sunshine that brought the warmth that he desired to thaw his endless winters.

“Done with your work, too? Let’s go home.” His sunshine that spread light and illuminated the darkness that clouds his mind.

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The walk from the subway station to the shared apartment complex was only a 10-minute walk but tonight it seemed never-ending to Akaashi. The time was almost 8:00 and the streets seemed less deserted than usual. The city lights glimmer looked dim in comparison to past nights and the mood almost felt too solemn with the holidays around the corner. Akaashi was lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice the crosswalk light flickered to red signaling the oncoming traffic to cross the road, if it wasn’t for you pulling him by the back of his jacket… he ignores the thought that briefly filters across his mind.

“Akaashi, are you alright? I wasn’t going to mention it but you’ve seemed more aloof than usual.” You said while gripping onto the back of his jacket tightly almost grasping him in a silent plea.

“I’m fine.” He responds curtly while maneuvering his tall frame in an off-handed demeanor that cues for you to let-go. This action only fuels your act of defiance to pull him harder in your direction causing your bodies to collide clumsily disrupting the systematic ebb-and-flow that is pedestrian traffic. As you and Akaashi apologize and wait for the crosswalk sign to turn green, you can’t help but laugh which makes Akaashi let-out a small chuckle as he realizes what a commotion your exchange must have looked like.

“We make for entertaining crowd spectacles,” He spoke softly through a genuine small smile that washed over his handsome features that could have rivaled ‘any top celebrity that calls themselves a pretty boy,’ in your words, not his. The cold weather combined with the hotness radiating from his silent chuckles caused a light layer of condensation to form on his glasses’ lenses. As the haze rendered him sightless, he took off his glasses, pulled out his handkerchief he kept tucked away in his inner jacket pocket, and proceeded to clean his square frames. You took this opportunity to admire the man before you. His brown hair fell gracefully in a light tousled manner as a result of his hands raking through them from stress. Your gaze shifted to his hands, his hands easily engulfed the metal frames balancing delicately in between his slender fingers that looked natural holding the awkward position for prolonged periods of time. Your eyes flit over his face that was normally impassive and difficult to read, now his cool indifference shifted to a look of frustration. The furrow of his thick brows and the faint vertical lines creasing in the center of his eyebrows almost made Akaashi look younger.

‘He looks like a petulant child being told what to do’ you mused to yourself. When he felt content with the cleanliness of his glasses, Akaashi scanned his surroundings to see where you led him to. He realizes that you stopped right in front of the steps to his favorite place in all of Tokyo – the International Library of Children’s Literature. Even with the library being closed as evident by the lack of people and dimmed lights, he still found this place breathtaking.

“The architecture of this library looks similar to the Palace of Versailles don’t you think so, Akaashi? That was one of my first impressions when you first brought me here, I just forgot about it but remembered after seeing this place again” You said as you stared in awe at the smooth concrete walls and tall glass windows with lattice fixtures intricately lining the tall double doors that greeted over 1,000 visitors each day.

“The International Library of Children’s Literature, originally called the Imperial Library, was constructed by the Tokyo Metropolitan Government under the Meiji era in 1906. The artistic movement that inspired the architect was the Renaissance movement which explains the Western-like elements incorporated into the building’s design.” Akaashi recited from memory and turned to you after he finished his statement only to find you already facing him, eyes widened and mouth agape in surprise. After seeing your reaction he turns back to the building and says in a soft whisper, “This place brings back fond memories,” while unconsciously playing with his hands, fingers intertwining with one another in a playful open and close. He can feel your gaze openly assessing his figure standing awkwardly in the library’s pathway, he knows that you want the answers as to why he’s acting less like his “usual” self. You find yourself confused by Akaashi’s paradoxical behavior, sometimes he’s willing to let small cracks appear in his otherwise smooth facade of coolness, and other times he shrugs you off in efforts to maintain his cool indifference. His true emotions are caught and given to you in minuscule pieces and this frustrates you as you wish to be with the man that’s always beside you and occupies your mind all the time.

Akaashi can’t help but feel the subtle self-conscious feeling starting to arise after pondering how out of place you and him look at the moment, two people standing alone in front of a closed library engaged in a heated silent exchange. His heart sank when he realized that you two could almost be mistaken as a couple with the way the both of you look now, he wishes for this to be real, his wish is to be with you. Akaashi wishes for you to know his true feelings and declare his love for you and yet, he finds himself biting his lips to silence himself in spite of his friends saying he has a chance of being with you.

The shuffling of feet is heard as you shift your weight from right-to-left and your avoidance of all eye-contact are all tall tale signs of your unsureness, your actions break Akaashi from his own thoughts as he raises his head to see you standing closer to him than earlier.

‘You’re so close I could kiss you right now.’ He wants to say, even in a playful manner but is too afraid to be caught expressing his true feelings even through teasing comments.

“Akaashi, what are you thinking about right now?” You ask in a futile attempt for him to confide in you what thoughts occupy his brain that’s causing him to both distance himself from you emotionally.

Just as Akaashi begins to open his mouth he’s interrupted by an abrupt shout that causes the both of you to stop all conversation.

“Look mom, it’s snowing!”

Childlike excitement blanketed the distanced onlookers frolicking the crosswalks as snowflakes kissed the cherry red noses of daily commuters and people doing last-minute gift shopping. You and Akaashi fix your gazes up to the dark depths of the night sky now obstructed by the white flurries of snow clouds now hovering over all of Tokyo.

‘It’s now or never,” Akaashi thinks to himself, ‘if I can’t do it now, when will I ever get the chance again?’ Akaashi takes a deep inhale and closes his eyes to bask in the brisk coolness the winter air has brought with the changing of seasons.

“I think about how seasons shift out in a cycle of four and I find myself not being able to cope with each change.” He breathes out finally and continues, you stare at him in silent apprehension while anticipating each word.

“Seasons change, people change, and yet I find myself coming back to you… meeting in the same place where we first met each other. Fate has a funny way of telling us that we’re supposed to be together. Coincidence has a hand in pushing us together hinting that we’re meant to be. Destiny is telling me that you’re the one but, choice whispers it’s harsh words of reality only permissible when conditions are met that echoes in my thoughtless mind every sleepless night.” Akaashi locks your eyes in a steady gaze, your eyes widened in shock while his eyes portray a deep-rooted passion now surfacing after being hidden for so long.

“Our love is blossoming like the sakura trees in the spring, a love that mirrors the perennial endless summer hydrangeas in the courtyard in front of our apartment building. A love in which I catch myself falling for you like the leaves during the autumnal months. A love that engulfs me in the warmth of the fire, with its ember flicks illuminating your faint silhouette as we embrace each other in the moonlight. Falling in love with you was experiencing a life I have not lived before, for the first time I welcomed the uncertainty, my fears, my doubts never once clouded my mind. You are my moonlight that illuminates my path in the inky depths of nightfall. My starlight when I look to the sky brimming with untold stories in your constellations that guide me back to you. I want to be with you during the first snowfall of each winter. I want to experience each change of the seasons with you, I want you by my side to accompany me as we live our lives – I wish to be together with you.”

Akaashi finishes his confession of true feelings for you and a sense of relief washes over him as a weight has been lifted from his chest. Akaashi starts fiddling with a loose thread in his pockets starting to feel anxious at the sight of you as he begins to anticipate your response since you haven’t spoken since it started snowing. The feeling of temporary relief was now replaced with a sense of dread fueled by his self-doubts and the thought of rejection, he averts his gaze downward to avoid meeting your eyes.

Akaashi stayed cemented in his place with no signs of moving, so you decided to close the distance between you two. Feeling bolder after Akaashi’s profession as you were reeling from the excitement of seeing snow paired with your feelings being returned by the one you love, you grab his jacket sleeve to signal for him to remove his hand from his pocket and slowly begin to intertwine hands. He shifts his gaze from your interlocked hands to look at you, as he scans your face to gauge your reaction, he finds himself surprised by the beaming smile matching your bright energy and warmth that rivals the sun during the summer months. Your actions and the bright reaction is all the confirmation he needs to know if you reciprocate his feelings so he steers you, hands intertwined, in the direction of your shared apartment complex.

“What about your wish, did it come true?” Akaashi asks while he notices you started to swing your joined hands unconsciously, ‘probably out of habit,’ he thinks to himself silently while a smile threatens to breach his lips. You stop him and take his other-hand so now he’s facing you, you want his full attention as now, it’s your turn to confess.

“My wish was always to be with you, you’re my happiness and the reason for me to continue to live and grow. When I’m with you I’m at my happiest and your constant presence has always been comforting. The sureness in your voice and actions speak volumes about your reliability and the love you have for others. My wish was for you to see the light in yourself and for you to realize that you are loved and needed, not just I think this way but your friends Bokuto, Kuroo, Kenma, and everyone else you’ve met and encountered will agree with me on this point I’m trying to make. I love you, Akaashi Keiji and I wish to be with you… if you’d let me.”

Compared to the shuffling of footsteps and avoidance of eye-contact from earlier that hinted towards your unsureness, Akaashi can see the confidence in your stance and actions as you grasp onto his hands, the unwavering sureness you exude while maintaining eye-contact has Akaashi falling in love with you over again. The brightness in your eyes and cheery playfulness reminds him of the reasons he fell for you in the first place and he senses that he will keep finding reasons to fall in love with you over and over again.

“Let’s go home now, sunshine. I’m afraid that your warmth will melt the winter snow.”

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phantoms-lair · 3 years

Text

MSAHolidaySpirits2020 - Gift for WorldBeyondTheWorld

@worldbeyondtheworld I’m your Mystery Skulls Secret Santa. Hope this is okay.

It was unusual for Vivi to be on her own. Even if her friends weren’t by her side, Mystery always was.

But today she was on her own, by choice. She was mad at Mystery for the secrets he’d kept. Mad at Lewis for turning on Arthur like that, and for going straight for murder without asking questions. And while she wasn’t mad at Arthur (who had been as much in the dark as her), they had been spending a lot of time in an enclosed van and she could use a breather.

She’d made sure Mystery and Arthur had recovered from their injuries, and that Lewis wasn’t going to backslide and go after Arthur again, then set aside a weekend trip for herself. She just needed to get away from all of it and breathe. Arthur and Mystery understood, even if both looked guilty. Lewis had looked like a kicked puppy, but hadn’t said anything, which she’d take.

She just wanted some time away without anyone she’d know, which was why she was so surprised to hear a familiar voice (albeit one she hadn’t heard in quite a while) call “Vivi?” from the other side of the All-You-Can-Eat diner.

“Fred?” She turned her head to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. “Fred, is that you?” The next thing she knew she was being hugged and laughed. “Fred Jones, what are you doing in Texas?”

“A friend of yours?” One of the girls with Fred (Velma, she thought from Fred’s past descriptions) asked. “This is my cousin, Vivi. Vi, these are my friends- Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby.” Fred introduced. “Nice to meet you.” Vivi was privately pleased she’d gotten Velma right. And also amused by the subtle confused looks going between her and Fred, trying to find the slightest scrap of resemblance between the round Japanese girl and angular American boy.

“This might help.” She pulled up a picture of her family on the phone. It was far easier to see the resemblance between Susan Yukino nee Jones and her brother, Skip.

“Oooooh,” All of his friends nodded.

Fred looked a little put out. “You didn’t believe me?”

“It’s not that we didn’t believe you Fred,” Daphne assured him. “It’s just a little hard to see.”

“Not the first time, won’t be the last.” Vivi assured. “And you never answered my question.”

“We were hired to sit in on a séance.” Fred explained. “We have a reputation for debunking fake supernatural happenings and the widow doesn’t want to be tricked.”

“Which should be simple. Ghosts aren’t real, therefore it’s a trick.” Velma shook her head in disbelief.

“Why don’t you come with us, Vi?” Fred said excitedly. “It’s been so long, and the last time I went to Japan, I found out you had moved to America!”

She had gone on this trip for some me-time, but to her own surprise, found the idea of spending time with her cousin wasn’t a bad one.

He was right, it had been years since they’d seen each other which meant he and his friends were utterly unconnected to the mess in Tempo. “You sure your client won’t mind?” Fred shrugged, “It’s not like she’s paying for our room and board or admission to somewhere. We’re all just sitting around watching, shouldn’t be a problem.”

“The medium is from somewhere called ‘Kurain Village’,” Daphne added, “They’re supposed to be reputable.”

Vivi’s eye’s lit up. “Kurain Village! I’ve read about them! I always wanted to see their techniques in action, but Baa-san said it would be disrespectful to go just to gawk at them.”

“Well now you can gawk at them to help a widow.” Fred elbowed Vivi slightly with a grin, who returned the gesture.

“What’s so interesting about their techniques? Moaning and wailing? Ouiji boards?” Velma asked, rolling her eyes.

Vivi laughed. “Oh no, I’m not spoiling the surprise if you don’t know. Let’s just say it’s very distinctive and would be very hard to fake.”

Velma seemed skeptical, but that was fine. This was very off the beaten path for a Kurain Medium, so if it was a fake the skepticism would be good for exposing them. That being said, if it wasn’t she did look forward to seeing Velma attempt to rationalize it.

“So like, what’s your stance?” Shaggy asked. “Do you believe in ghosts? Or think it’s all fake?”

Vivi thought for a moment. “The short answer is both. I do think ghosts and stuff are real,” How could she not, after what had happened, “but that ninety percent of haunted houses and mediums are either frauds or have more rational explanations.” She shrugged. “I give the mediums from Kurain a bit more benefit of the doubt because theirs isn’t a ‘for profit’ thing. It’s more of their way of life, like monks that live in a temple away from civilization. It’s a culture, not a business. That being said, I can easily see someone trying to make a quick buck by stealing their name. So after lunch, should I follow you guys on my bike?”

“There’s plenty of room in the van,” Fred offered.

But Vivi shook her head. “I love you, cuz, but I have spent most of the last couple of months in a van. I’ll take the motorcycle.”

For a moment, Fred looked taken aback. Too taken aback, like he made a mistake. Vivi’s eyes narrowed as a suspicion came over her. “Fred have you been talking to my Mom? About, oh I don’t know, Lewis?”

The guilt written all over her cousin’s face was enough to prove her guess was right. “Fred Jones - if this is all a trick of Mom’s to get me to come home you can tell her-” “No, it’s not. I didn’t even know you were going to be here, I swear. We really are on a case and I just saw you and thought you shouldn’t be alone right now.” Fred’s voice shrunk as he spoke and Vivi sighed heavily.

“Okay, so who’s Lewis and what are the rest of us missing?” Daphne asked.

Vivi took a deep breath. “Lewis was my boyfriend. We were very close, like considering marriage close.”

“And he dumped you?” Velma guessed.

“He disappeared nearly a year ago. Last week they recovered his body.”

Fred’s friend looked like they had been hit with a sledgehammer, and Vivi supposed she was being overly blunt, but now she was annoyed. And the worst part was she couldn’t explain a lot of her feelings, about Lewis coming back and her memory being stolen. She’d just have to channel what Arthur went through.

“It’s been a terrible year, Arthur (a mutual friend) and I have been searching all over trying to find him and dealing with physical and mental trauma. His body being found, him coming home? That’s closure to the year of not knowing.”

“But for some people, and Mom is a big part of this, it’s like a fresh tragedy. The body suddenly makes it real in a way it wasn’t before. Mom wants me to ‘come home’ and ‘be with the people that love me.’ But my home is in Tempo, there are people that love me in Tempo. I need to deal in my own way, and people who insist I do so in a different way are not helping.”

Fred looked like a kicked puppy and Vivi reigned herself in. She was angry with a lot of people, but Fred himself wasn’t one of them. “Look, I’m sorry for being upset, I’m just mad at Mom and a lot of other people. And a break sounds good, if you still want me to come. Just no false pretenses, okay?”

“Okay.” Fred sighed. “Sorry Vi, I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

“And I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just been a rough time.” She hugged her cousin. “Let me finish my food and I’ll be right with you.” “If there’s any food left after you and Shaggy are done.” Fred joked. “Small mercy they don’t have to deal with Scooby and Mystery.”

“Next time.” Vivi promised as they continued to their table.

As the left she heard on of his friends whisper “You tried to distract your cousin from her dead boyfriend with a séance?” and couldn’t help but laugh.

As she pulled in next to Fred’s van, Vivi had half a mind to pull right back out.

“I didn’t know Vi. I swear.” Fred looked concerned as he left the van. “She just gave us directions.”

The address didn’t lead to a house or business. It led to a cave.

Vivi took a deep breath. “It’s fine, everything’s fine.” It was not fine.

“Caves bad?” Shaggy asked.

“Caves bad.” Fred confirmed, but didn’t go into why, which Vivi was grateful for.

“Like, maybe it’s outside the cave?” Shaggy suggested. “Like, everyone seems to be outside.”

There were four other people milling about. One was an old lady who Vivi assumed was the client. Another other was a young lady dressed in the traditional outfit for a Kurain medium, with the much younger girl next to her dressed similarly. Standing a bit off to the side was a man with hair spikes that could duel Arthur’s and a crisp blue suit.

“Dearies!” The old woman shuffled up to them. “Thank you for coming to put an old woman’s mind at ease. Oh? Is this a friend of yours?” “My cousin actually.” Fred explained. “She lives not far from here and turns out she knows a bit about Kurain mediums. I hope this isn’t a problem.”

“Not at all, dearies. The mediums brought that gentleman with them, and the more the merrier.” She clasped Vivi’s hands. “Artemisia Fishal, but everyone calls me Arty.” “Vivi Yukino,” she introduced herself. “One of my best friends is named Arty. Um, is the ceremony going to be inside the cave?” “At a chamber that’s just inside the mouth.” Mrs Fishal confirmed. “Is that a problem?”

“No, if we’re just inside the mouth I should be alright.”

“Claustrophobia?” Mrs. Fishal asked, not unkindly. “Don’t worry, you can see the mouth of the cave easily.”

“Thank you,” said Vivi, not correcting her. “Um, is there any reason it’s in a cave?”

“Underground is closer to the underworld, dearies. Why don’t you and Mr. Wright head in, I’ll join you shortly.” Mrs. Fishal shooed them towards the mouth of the cave.

“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Fred whispered to her as they headed toward the cave.

“If I’m not I’ll let you know.” she whispered back. The truth was this would be her first time going into a cave since getting her memories back and Vivi had no clue how she’d react.

There was a feeling of panic that had her clutching Fred’s arm as they entered, but she managed to squash it down. It helped that this cave was so different from the one that lived in her nightmares. For starters there wasn’t a speck of green. Instead it was mostly orange, lit by numerous candles (what Vivi would have considered far too many if it wasn’t a stone wall and ceiling), their smoke drifting out the mouth of the cave. There was a small dip between the entrance and where it looked like they were going to sit, so the group made their way down, the blue suited man (Mr. Wright?) joining them.

“You’re a defense attorney?” Velma asked in surprise, noticing the small badge on the man’s lapel. “What are you doing traveling with a pair of ‘psychics’?” The sarcasm in the last words was extremely heavy.

“They’re underaged and I have a driver’s license.” Mr. Wright answered dryly. “Maya works the books at my law firm and Pearls, who’ll be doing the channeling today, is her cousin.”

Daphne’s eyes widened. “The little girl? She’s the medium?” Mr. Wright laughed. “Never underestimate anyone from the Fey Family, no matter what their size.”

“She’s from the Fey *family*!” Vivi’s eyes lit up. “Then they’re both direct descendants of Ami Fey? The woman who created Kurain? Oh this is going to be good!” “It is. I just wish I knew why she was lying so much.” “That’s what mediums do,” Velma scoffed.

“Not them,” Mr. Wright seemed too distracted to notice the insult to his friends. “The widow,”

But before any of them could ask further, the last three people entered the cave. Mrs. Fishal and the little girl (Pearls?) sat at the mouth of the cave while the older (Maya?) came and joined them. “She’s nervous,” Maya whispered to Mr. Wright, but loud enough Vivi heard too. “Since channeling is traditionally done one on one, she’s not used to having an audience.”

“Pearl has this.” he assured her. “You know how powerful she is.”

“Um, Okay.” Pearl's timid voice echoed through the cave. “I’m going to channel the spirit of Mrs. Fishal’s husband. She showed me his picture, so I’m going to call for him now.” She closed her eyes and Vivi heard her cousin and his friends gasp as the tiny little girl began to grow.

“This,” she whispered, “is the Kurain Channeling Technique.”

There was no way for it to be a trick, or a replacement. They all watched as the child grew several times her own size and her frame became masculine. As was the voice that absolutely did not belong to Pearl. “Gotta hand it to you, Anna. You were right about all this mystical mumbo jumbo.”

“Told you, sweetie.” Mrs. Fishal in a suddenly much younger voice. She pulled at her face, tearing away the visage of the kind elderly woman to reveal a woman in her mid twenties. At the same time she pulled a gun and held the audience at bay.

“What’s this all about?” Mr. Wright demanded. “Who are you?”

“Anna Fender, and I’m sure most of you remember my boyfriend.”

Pearl - or rather the person possessing Pearl - lifted his head and Mystery Inc gasped.

“Upton O'Goode!” Fred exclaimed, shocked.

“So you do remember me,” The man sneered. “What this is about is those brats ruining my perfectly good plan to rake in tons of cash.”

“By illegally scamming the Sinclairs out of their inheritance,” Daphne snarled back.

“But you had to meddle and stuck your noses in and got me sent to jail. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, some guy there didn’t like being on the wrong end of one of my schemes and shivved me in the kidney.”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing my Uppy.” Anna continued. “I’ve always had a love for the occult, and I remembered what I knew about Kurain mediums. That they take on the physical appearance of the spirit they’re channeling. Pearl Fey has more than enough spiritual power to keep my Uppy around indefinitely.”

“You’re planning on stealing her body” Vivi said in a low and dangerous tone.

“Oh more than that,” Anna gloated, handing the gun to Upton. “I’m getting my revenge on the brats who caused Upton to die in the first place. Nothing personal to you or the lawyer, but no witnesses. You understand.” She pulled something out of her pocket that Vivi recognized. So did Fred and Mr. Wright, since they both stood up with her at the same time.

A warning shot from Upton drove Mr. Wright back, but Fred and Vivi both moved forward for the tackle. Anna pulled Upton back and pressed the button on the detonator she was holding.

Vivi felt herself being blown back by the blast. It hurt like a sunnuva, but wasn’t the worst she’d had by far. Her ears were ringing, but she forced herself up. Surprisingly not all the candles had gone out in the blast, enough were still lit to see the mouth had been completely collapsed in. She could also see Fred’s friends surrounding his prone form on the ground.

“Fred? Fred!” She stumbled over as fast as she could. He was unconscious and bleeding from his head. “Do any of you know first aid?”

“Like, I learned some when I became a counselor at Camp Kichihaha.” Shaggy answered shakily. “But, like, for a head injury like this, we need help. Like, I don't even want to apply pressure to the wound in case there's a skull fracture. We need an ambulance.”

The temperature dropped several degrees, but no one commented on it. Vivi forced herself to calm. They had enough problems right now, they didn’t need her giving the others hypothermia. They needed to contact the outside world. She pulled out her cell phone. No signal, which wasn’t surprising. What else could they use?

She scanned the cave and her eyes fell on Maya Fey.

“You’re a spirit medium too, right?” Vivi asked. “I am, but I don’t know any doctors I can channel. I mean, I know one, but I don’t think I’d trust him with this, or to help.”

Vivi shook her head. “I don’t think a doctor would be much help without equipment. I want to know if you could channel a spirit named Lewis Pepper.” “Rour read royfried?” Scooby asked.

“Did that dog just talk?” Maya asked, equally flummoxed.

“Vivi, I really don’t think this is the time.” Daphne said frantically.

“Trust me. I think Lewis can get us out of this.” Vivi promised. “Look at me.” Mr. Wright demanded. He waited until Vivi was looking him in the eye. “Tell me you have no ulterior motive except to get us out, and that this ‘Lewis’ won’t be harmful to Maya.”

“I swear this is just to save my cousin, and our lives. Lewis will bring no harm to your friend.” Vivi said firmly.

Mr. Wright relaxed. Almost too much so given what had happened and -

It clicked that maybe there was a reason Mr. Wright had a close connection to the Fey family besides Maya working at his office. He had known the widow was lying, if not about what, and had known for a fact she was telling the truth. It seemed he might have some psychic power of his own.

“Please try.” Vivi turned to Maya. “If he resists coming, just tell him Vivi needs help.”

“Okay,” Maya said uncertainly. She clasped her hands in front of her and concentrated.

For a moment she thought it wasn’t working, then Maya’s form expanded far more than Pearl’s had.

“Vivi?” Lewis sounded confused. “Why do I feel alive?”

“You’re being channeled by a medium. I’m sorry, but I need to be quick. I ran into my cousin Fred, who took me to a séance. We’re in a cave off Peterson Park in Sommeton, right next to the road.”

“Cave?!”

“It was a trap,” Vivi continued as though he hadn’t said anything, not letting either of them dwell on that fact. “Meant to kill Fred and his friends, as well as steal a new body.”

“Did you say steal-” Lewis clenched Maya’s fist and a purple flame formed around it.

“Put that out!” Vivi ordered. “They used some kind of explosive to seal us in, and I don’t want to set off anything undetonated.”

“Right, right. Sorry. Just-”

“I know.” Vivi deflated. “I really do. Look, Fred has a bad head injury and is unconscious. I need you to call EMS and have an ambulance sent out this way once you let go of the channeling. Also let the police know a woman named Anna Fender had kidnapped a little girl about Belle’s age. AND STOP WITH THE FIRE!”

The purple flames that had been gathering around Lewis stopped. “‘I’m sorry, I’m trying…”

“It’s okay. I need you to go and get help. And Lewis?” Vivi kissed him on the cheek. “I’m still pissed at you for that stunt you pulled. But I’m really glad you're back.”

Lewis’s lower lip trembled before he grabbed Vivi into a bone crushing hug. Then suddenly his form shrunk until it was Maya Fey hugging Vivi.

“What was that?” Maya asked in shock. “He felt more powerful than my sister.”

“More than Mia?” Mr. Wright sounded equally stunned.

“Lewlew came back as a pretty powerful spirit.” Vivi admitted. “But that’s working in our favor, because he can manifest without a medium. So he’s gonna call and get help.

“This can’t be real.” Velma shook her head. “Spirit Channeling? Body Snatching? Ghosts?”

“But it is,” Shaggy said quietly.

“We saw it with our own eyes,” Daphne pointed out.

“Ro ricks,” Scooby added.

“But- No, I don’t have time for denial.” Velma stood firm. “I don’t care if ghosts are real. What can we do to help Fred until help arrives?”

“We find a way out.” Vivi said. “Right now time is the most important thing, and if they don’t have to dig us out, all the better.” She eyed the rubble. Sure there was a possibility that there was another way out further in the cave, but she doubted it. Fender had obviously out a lot of preparation into this plot, she doubted the woman would pick a cave with another easy access point.

At the same time she’d not placed the explosives where they’d been sitting, but at the mouth of the cave trapping them in. She’d wanted them to die slowly, in the dark (since she doubted those candles would last an hour). And even if that wouldn’t come to pass, with help on the way, the mouth of the cave was still their best way out.

Slowly and carefully Vivi began to climb the hill of rubble. She felt the stones occasionally shift under her weight, and stopped moving until they settled. Once she reached the top, she looked back. Fred had been blown far enough back he’d be in little to no danger if things went south.

Her head brushing against the ceiling, she delicately shifted one of the stones at the top, as though this was the highest stake game of jenga.

“I’m coming up,”

Vivi heard a voice behind her. She looked down and saw Daphne starting to climb the pile. Right behind her were Velma, Maya, and Mr. Wright, with Shaggy and Scooby keeping a watchful vigil over Fred. “We need to be -”

“Careful, I know.” Velma adjusted her glasses. “A wrong move could cause a second collapse, which could result in more injuries. But Fender planned this too well for there to be another exit, and you said it yourself, we need to have a pathway for the paramedics as quickly as possible.”

Well, she could hardly argue with her own reason thrown back at her. They moved as quickly as they could, shifting the stone and debris swiftly but carefully. Vivi almost cheered when she saw the first ray of daylight shine through. She was very glad she didn’t when she cleared a little further and got a view of the outside.

“They’re still here,” she hissed.

“Jeepers,” Daphne whispered. “Why?”

“It looks like Upton’s changed his clothes, I guess Pearl’s would have been too noticeable.”

“They had no reason to rush,” Velma pointed out. “As far as they know, we had no way to contact the authorities, or anyone.”

“But no reason to stick around, unless” Vivi’s eyes narrowed as she noticed Anna wasn’t loitering around like Upton. She focused and saw her head dipping in and around the steering wheel. “She lost her keys in the blast.”

“How can you tell?” Maya whispered.

“The only reason to not leave as soon as Upton was changed would be car trouble. Usually in that case you’d pop the hood, but she’s messing with the steering column. She’s trying to hotwire her own car.” Vivi deduced.

“Then we can save Pearls!” Maya whispered back, suddenly filled with determination.

Vivi bit her lip. The safe thing to do for everyone in the cave would be to just let the culprits with the gun leave. But leaving that little girl with the body snatcher was something she couldn’t do either. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she wanted the proverbial pound of flesh from the people who hurt her cousin.

“Okay. We need to clear a little bit more so I can get through. I’m going to take the gun out of play. Maya, do you know a way to get that spirit out of your cousin?”

“There’s a Spirit-Severing Technique. I know the theory, but I’ve never used it before.” Her voice sounded shaky.

“Maya, when the chips have been down you always been there when we needed you. You’re the Master of Kurain Channeling. You can do this.” Mr. Wright said, his voice so full of conviction, it was clear it wasn’t platitudes. He firmly believed in her.

Maya puffed out her cheeks and seemed to be steeling herself. “That’s right, I can! Pearly needs me and I’m not going to let her down!”

Vivi nodded. “Let’s get the hole a little bit wider so I can squeeze out. Once the gun is out of play, you guys move in.”

Though logically the bad guys hadn’t heard them yet, the rest of the stones were moved from the top in almost utter silence, each one afraid to draw the enemy’s attention. Finally it was big enough for Vivi to squeeze through.

She waited until Upton had his back turned to the cave and as quietly as she could, slid down. Once she reached the ground she ran, keeping as low to the ground as she could. She was almost there when Upton turned and noticed her.

He let out a shout and fumbled with the gun. And that was what Vivi had been waiting for. The anger inside her wasn’t fire, it was ice. It blew through her veins like a blizzard and it was finally time to let it loose. She swung one arm forward in almost a scooping motion and a trail of ice flowed from her position to just in front of Upton’s, where it exploded in giant spikes from the ground, knocking the gun from Upton’s grasp, then freezing it into place.

Upton shrieked and fell back towards the car, but Vivi only picked up speed. In one smooth motion she jumped over her own spikes and slammed onto the hood of Anna’s car. Anna, who had been getting up to see what Upton reacted to, let out a scream of her own as the hood of her car was suddenly smashed in and covered in ice. Vivi stood and lifted one arm. Her bat came flying out of the sidecar of her bike and flew into her hand.

“You should have done more research, Anna.” Vivi said grimly. “The Feys aren’t the only family with power in their blood.”

“Stay away from her!” Upton cried, running for the car. He never made it, though, as someone grabbed his arm and flipped him into the ground.

“No, you stay away from her!” Daphne snarled, as her flip landed Upton in grabbing range of Velma and Mr. Wright. Maya joined them a moment later, and clasped her hands in front of her like she had when she’d channeled Lewis.

Vivi spared a glance back at Anna, but she seemed to be suitably cowed and she did want to see this. She could already think of two cases where being able to exorcise a spirit less violently would have come in extremely handy.

She couldn’t quite see what Maya was doing. She could sense power in the air, but nothing like a spell. Whatever she was doing must have been one of the powers innate to the Fey Line.

Maya made a sudden slashing motion and Pearl collapsed, suddenly much smaller than the man Mr. Wright and Velma had been holding onto.

“Upton, NO!” Anna scrambled out of the car, her fear momentarily forgotten. “Bring him back!”

Mr. Wright snatched up Pearl, who was disoriented from the ordeal, and swung her away from Anna.

A loud cackle filled the air. “Don’t worry, Annie.” As if from nowhere a form seemed to coalesce, made of smoke and sludge. “They can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Anna’s face brightened as the form took the rough shape of the man who’d possessed Pearl.

He turned and leered at Vivi. “Whatcha gonna do now, girlie? Your ice is scary, but you can’t hurt an actual ghost.”

“Bet,” was Vivi’s flat response. She swung the bat toward his chest - or rather what she knew his chest must contain. And like an over-confident idiot he let her. She grinned as she felt it connect with his heart and watched it go flying into the dirt. It wasn’t shiny gold, like Lewis’s. Or beautiful as Shiromori’s, or stunning as Mystery’s. In fact it was an ugly squishy thing with green veins pulsing in it.

“What the hell?” Upton screamed as he curled in on himself. But Vivi didn’t care about the ghost’s main form, just the anchor that was rapidly beating on the ground.

“On the worst day of my life I was stuck in a cave while the man I love died right in front of me, while a monster tried to steal my best friend’s body. And almost every night I see some aspect of that or the fallout in my nightmares. And I try to be strong for them, for Arthur, for the Peppers, and even for Lewis now. Because they’ve been through so much Hell and they need someone to act as a pillar.”

“Today I just wanted to find some peace for myself and you made me relive it. You trapped us in a cave. You stole an innocent child’s body. My cousin might die! And once again I couldn’t do a THING to stop it!” Vivi couldn’t stop the tears that flowed from her eyes and froze to her cheeks. “So GO TO HELL!!!!” Lifting her bat above her head she smashed it against his heart as hard as she could.

Upton howled in pain and his form destabilized, but she didn’t stop there. She smashed it again and again until there was nothing left of the dark heart or the figure who spawned it. Even as it was, she kept hitting the ground until the sound of sirens broke through her haze.

She turned to Anna Fender, who was huddled against her car. Vivi let out a breath that condensed into white vapor. “The authorities are coming to arrest you now. Whatever deity you pray to, pray that Fred survives. Or I’m coming for you next.”

Ultimatum given, Vivi forced herself to calm down, forced the ice away. The medics were here, she had to get them to Fred.

“You killed him,” Pearl sobbed into Mr. Wright’s shoulder. “You killed his soul.”

Crap. CrapCrapCrap. The last thing she’d wanted was to traumatize the kid who’d already been through too much today. “I didn’t kill his soul. Promise. I destroyed his anchor. It’s his tie to the land of the living. So he can’t manifest or be summoned anymore, but he still exists on the other side.”

And if Vivi had a feeling where exactly on the other side he was, she wasn’t going to mention it to the little girl.

“She’s telling the truth, Pearls.” Mr. Wright assured.

“How can you know?” Daphne asked, looking as wrung out as Vivi felt.

Mr. Wright hesitated, then realized after everything there was no reason not to be forthright. “I can see if people are lying or keeping secrets. Not what the truth is, mind, but I know when someone’s hiding something. She,” he gestured to Anna, “was hiding a lot. Vivi saying she hadn’t killed his soul? Nothing.”

Maya let out a sigh of relief too. Velma just shook her head.

“I guess that’s a useful skill for a lawyer to have.”

Mr. Wright let out a tired laugh. “Useful, but frustrating at times. ‘I magically know they’re hiding something’ is not court admissible evidence and there’s no way to tell if what they’re hiding is even relevant. But I’m glad I have it. I just wish I’d acted on it sooner.”

What he was going to say next, if anything, was lost by police and paramedics arriving. Mr. Wright and the Fey cousins spoke to the police while Vivi, Velma, and Daphne led the paramedics to the cave.

Shaggy and Scooby were still with Fred, Scooby laying on him to keep him still and Shaggy monitoring his pulse and breathing. The paramedics took over and Shaggy was pulled into a hug by his two friends as they watched the professionals work.

They probably took up more room in the waiting area of the emergency room than they should, but Vivi wouldn’t worry about it unless it looked like they were running out of space. In addition to his friends (including Scooby, who apparently was considered a service animal to help with Shaggy’s Anxiety), Mr. Wright (or Nick as Maya called him) and the Feys were there too. And she really should have known her boys wouldn’t just sit at home in Tempo after the SOS she had sent. Arthur was curled up on one side of her with Lewis’s Anchor in his hand while Mystery lay at her feet.

(Unlike Scooby he had no reason to get past security, so Vivi suspected shenanigans were up. As apparently did Mr. Wright, who kept looking at him.)

She had been texting a status update to Uncle Skip and Aunt Peggy when a nurse wheeled Fred out, his head wrapped in bandages. “Just a concussion.” The nurse assured them. “He’ll be fine, but needs rest. No strenuous activity or operating heavy machinery.”

“But my van-” Fred protested as his friends wrapped him in a hug.

“Will be taken care of.” Vivi promised as she took over the wheelchair from the nurse.. “But you and your friends are going to stay in Tempo with us until Uncle Skip and Aunt Peggy come to get you.”

Fred groaned. “You guys need to fill me in on what happened. Last thing I remember we saw Vivi at that diner, then I wake up to a doctor poking a flashlight in my eyes.”

“You, like, don’t remember?” Shaggy asked, surprised.

“Concussions can mess with the ability to retain short term memory,” Velma explained. “Though I am curious if you knew about your cousin’s ability with ice magic beforehand.”

Fred shot her a suspicious look. “Am I still unconscious? Or is that an imposter Velma.”

“Things got weird after you got knocked out.” Daphne assured him. “And no, he didn’t know.” Vivi filled in. “That comes from the other side of the family.”

“It’s weird you asked that though. While I was out I had a dream about you in the snow while I was out.”

“You did?” Vivi asked, surprised.

“Yeah, we were in a forest and it was snowing. Your hair was messy and in this weird ponytail. And you were dressed in this ninja outfit. You just sort of sat there smiling at me.”

Vivi’s hands gripped the wheelchair tighter. She recognized the scene, but realized it wasn’t herself Fred had seen. But why was Mushi-obaasan in Fred’s dream? He didn’t have any Yukino blood in him? Heck she’d offered her own blood as a transfusion since they were the same type, but the doctors had told her it was unnecessary.

Then the answer hit her. Fred was family and family was so much more than simply being related. The same way Uncle Lance and the Peppers were to her, how Mr. Wright was to the Feys, and how Fred’s friends were to him, Mushi-obaasan didn’t need to share blood with him for her to recognize him as such. Family was what you made of it, and despite everything, Vivi was glad of her odd little family, blood or not. She suspected Mushi felt the same or she would not have shown herself to Fred.

At least she hadn’t shared her ice powers with him like she had with Vivi. She very much doubted the doctors would have appreciated an ice-plosion in the middle of the ER.

#MSAHolidaySpirits2020 #MSA #Phoenix Wright #Scooby Doo #I tried to keep the Phoenix Wright naming conventions for new characters #So we got Arty Fishal (artificial)#Anna Fender (An offender)#and Upton O'Goode (Up to no good)#WorldBeyondTheWorld #Happy Holidays

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quickspinner · 3 years

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Month of Miracles Day 9 - Tradition

Find the prompt list here!

I’m mixing up the prompts a bit here because I had a plan for ‘Moments of Wonder’ that can’t happen until a little bit further on in the Hallmark AU. I was just gonna do the next prompt while I got a little bit ahead on the Hallmark ones since they tend to be longer, but...this one wouldn’t leave me alone and I didn’t have enough time today to do both. Honestly, I might not be able to keep up the one a day through the next week, but whatever I miss, I’ll catch up on Christmas week where we have some planned time off.

Marinette understood why her mother thought this trip would do her good, but the truth was that she felt at loose ends rattling around in Gina’s old-fashioned but large house, all alone. At home, there was always somewhere to pitch in, something that needed doing. Gina kept her life pretty streamlined, and when she was home, she delighted in fixing up anything that might be out of sorts in her home. Gina was just too efficient, so other than keeping her plants alive, which really wasn’t that difficult since Gina kept mostly hardy breeds that could survive being left under the care of a neighbor for weeks at a time, there just wasn’t much for Marinette to do.

Finally Marinette planted herself on the couch, set the TV to a channel covering the most recent fashion shows, and sat down to sketch. She’d have a lot of work to catch up on when she got home, so she might as well take advantage of some of this quiet time to get ahead.

She sketched a few basic silhouettes to warm up and get the juices flowing, but after that...nothing came. Every time she started a line, she quickly rubbed about it again. Stop editing yourself, she scolded. Just get it out, and you can fix it later.

It didn’t work. Everything she did felt wrong. Audrey’s complaints echoed in her mind. Too derivative, too pedestrian, where’s the art, Marinette? That’s why I hired you, and all you ever give me is this trash! Did I make a mistake bringing you on?

Did Audrey make a mistake? Marinette put down her sketchbook and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them as she dropped her face against her legs, fighting down the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She swallowed hard and tried to breathe.

Okay. So she couldn’t draw right now. That was okay. She’d do...something else.

She got up, leaving her sketchbook on the couch and the television on, and went into the kitchen. She started pulling out ingredients without conscious thought, the spiral in her mind continuing until she actually stood in front of the mixer, measuring cups in hand.

Marinette took a deep breath. She began measuring out ingredients, repeating the recipes in her head as she worked. This, at least, was something she could do. Nobody got all twisted up over cookies, after all.

Well. Except Audrey are you trying to destroy my figure you’re FIRED Bourgeois. Marinette pushed that thought aside. Rose would appreciate cookies, she was sure. Gina’s neighbors would too. Maybe even Sally...would it be insulting to take some to Sally? She tried to remember if she’d seen cookies for sale in the café, and finally gave up. She’d just make some, and figure out who could eat them later.

This was something she could do, and nobody could say she didn’t do it well, and that...that mattered to her right now. She could feel herself relaxing into the process, and she began to consider what she could make. Gina’s supplies weren’t as extensive as Tom’s, but there were still plenty of options to choose from…

Her first batch was in the oven, and she was making some simple Russian teacakes for a breather, when Gina’s old-fashioned doorbell rang.

Frowning, Marinette grabbed a towel from the oven and went to the door, wiping at least one hand as clean as she could get it before she opened it.

If she’d expected anything, it was a package delivery, or maybe even a neighbor stopping by with some cookies of their own—this seemed like the kind of place where that stuff happened.

On the doorstep stood a grey-haired woman with a bright smile, glasses that made her blue eyes look huge, feet well apart, and her hands solidly on her hips. Behind her stood Luka Couffaine, his lips pressed together in exasperation, propping up a large Christmas tree. He gave her a tight smile when her eyes flicked over him, but the woman in front of him had a presence that was impossible to ignore.

“Um,” Marinette said, smiling uncertainly. “Can I help you?”

The woman stuck out her hand. “Hello, lass. Marinette, isn’t it? Anarka Couffaine! Yer grandma be a friend of mine. When I heard you were keeping house for her while she’s away I thought we’d best be bringing over her tree!”

“Her tree?” Marinette asked, mystified. She glanced at Luka, and couldn’t help a smile when he mouthed I am so sorry at her over his...mother? Surely she must be his mother. Only a parent could put that look of embarrassed frustration on a grown man.

“Aye, Gina always gets a tree from us,” Anarka was saying. “Thought she wouldn’t be needing one this year since she’s gone. Hated to think of her not having one when she gets back, but it makes sense, no one here to take care of it and all. But since you’re here, all’s well. You can decorate it and have it ready for Gina when she comes home. She’s still planning t’be back for Christmas Day, aye?”

“Uh, yes,” Marinette said, reaching up to tug a pigtail and remembering just in time that she’d pinned up her hair, and that her hands were still dusted with flour despite the wiping. “She and my parents and all were supposed to meet back here for Christmas Eve, so I guess—but I don’t know if—”

“Ah, that’s what I thought,” Anarka burst out cheerfully. “She’ll definitely be wanting her tree, then. No worries, lass, we know where everything is. We won’t be in your way but for a moment.”

She didn’t push past Marinette, but it was clear she intended to move forward, and Marinette backed out of the doorway on instinct.

Luka gave her a kill me now look as he hoisted the tree and followed his mother. Marinette giggled in spite of herself, and closed the door behind them.

True to her word, Anarka knew exactly where to find Gina’s Christmas tree things, and ordered her son around with a brusqueness that left no room for argument or debate. Marinette hovered, a bit at a loss for what to do. She wondered if she should go change into clean clothes, but Anarka said they weren’t staying long, and she still wasn’t done in the kitchen—

The oven timer chimed, and she automatically turned to tend to it. She hesitated in the door to the kitchen for just a moment, but Luka was half under the tree, getting it adjusted in the stand while Anarka barked orders. Neither was paying any attention to her, and even if she wasn’t cooking for anyone in particular, she couldn’t stand to let perfectly good cookies burn for no good reason.

She’d just gotten everything settled when Anarka’s booming voice behind her made her jump. “I’ve got to run, lass, but Luka can finish getting things set up. I’ve already told him what to do and where to put everything. We left the box of decorations out for ye, so ye can get things all nice for when Gina comes home. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again, so, goodbye for now. Don’t forget to check the water in the tree every day!”

Marinette didn’t even have time to answer before Anarka was seeing herself out.

As soon as the door banged closed behind Anarka, Luka made a beeline for the kitchen. Hands against the doorframe, he leaned in. “Hey.”

Marinette turned to look at him from where she stood rolling some kind of round cookie in powdered sugar. “I swear I tried to talk her out of it,” he told her, ears burning. “I’d have had more success wrestling a bear.”

Marinette laughed, blushing, and Luka couldn’t help his grin. She looked adorable, with her hair pinned up and her sleeves pushed up to her elbows, flour streaking the red and green, frilled apron she wore. “I can imagine,” she replied, placing the sugar-coated ball carefully on a pile of others already in a dish on the counter. “She seems like someone it’s hard to say no to.”

Luka shrugged. “That’s my mom.” They looked at each other for a moment, Luka thinking about what a sweet picture she made and her thinking—probably that he was completely weird, standing here staring at her. “Anyway,” he said hastily, pushing himself back upright, “I’ll get this finished up and get out of your hair. I just wanted to say I’m really sorry and I had nothing to do with this...whatever this is.”

Marinette giggled. “It’s fine.” Her shoulders came down a little, and Luka gave her one more grin before he went back to setting up the tree. He was starting, he reflected ruefully, to have some dangerous if only thoughts. If only they’d met sooner, if only she weren’t leaving in a couple of weeks...

If only the people in his life weren’t so damn pushy, so that he wasn’t sure how much of the attraction he felt was sincere or mutual. If only he could be sure he wasn’t seeing things because Rose put the idea in his head.

Luka wasn’t sure what had put his mother on the scent. It was, just barely, possible that her motives were exactly what she said they were. Gina did buy a tree from them every year, and since they were friends it was usually more of a visit than a delivery, and Anarka had more than once hauled Luka out to help set the thing up when he was home.

Luka doubted it though. Either Rose had blabbed, or someone else had. Sally, maybe, who might have seen him holding her hand at the café, or maybe one of the townspeople who had seen them say goodbye outside afterwards, smiling and friendly. Marinette blushed so easily, and he did find her extremely pretty. it might have been easy for someone to get the wrong idea.

The television was on, but Luka hadn’t paid any attention to it until Marinette’s name caught his ear. He looked up, and saw a good-looking blonde man on screen, waving to the crowd before he turned to help a lady out of the limo he’d just exited. There was a smaller picture of Marinette on the arm of the same handsome blond in the corner.

Luka put it together with what Marinette had told him at the café, and pressed his lips together, irrationally angry at the man. Clearly he has a type, Luka thought sourly, looking at the new woman on his arm as the couple proceeded down the red carpet. Luka glanced back at the kitchen, and then walked over and turned the television off. Marinette didn’t seem like she was watching it, and she certainly didn’t need to see something like that by accident.

He finished up, making sure to clean up after himself as best he could, stacking the boxes that had held Gina’s things neatly where his mother had found them. Conveniently there was a broom in the same closet, so he was able to sweep up the needles he’d inevitably tracked all over the house.

He put the broom back, and went back to find Marinette. Whatever she was making smelled amazing. Luka paused in the kitchen doorway. Marinette was concentrating hard, piping icing onto cookies laid out in front of her. Even focused as she was, he couldn’t help but note that she looked more content than he’d ever seen her, smiling and at peace, humming softly to herself. She leaned back to study what she’d done, and the humming turned to singing.

Luka took a quick step back and turned, putting his back to the wall next to the door, one hand going to clutch at his heart as it suddenly decided to gallop away.

She was singing one of his songs.

So she’s a fan, he scolded himself. I knew that. And why should he care? By the end, Luke Stone had been almost an entirely separate entity from himself. An illusion created to sell music, not a real person.

Except Luke Stone still played Luka Couffaine’s music. And it was one thing to know Luke Stone had fans, to see them screaming in a crowd or throwing themselves at the security ropes to get to him, but...it was entirely different to hear sweet, sincere Marinette, thoughtlessly humming Luka’s songs just because she was happy and she enjoyed them. It was what he’d always wanted, wasn’t it? To know that people appreciated the music, and not just the image. It was no wonder his pulse was racing.

Luka sighed and closed his eyes. I’m in trouble, he admitted to himself.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #hallmark au #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #promptfic #quickfic

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moonscriptsx · 4 years

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Fools (M)

SUMMARY: Harbored feelings over the years start to build up. Both you and Taehyung are so obviously in love with each other — well at least it was obvious to everyone except the two of you — and the world (aka Park Jimin) has made it its mission to get the two of you to realize the feelings are mutual.

GENRE/WARNINGS: College!AU, Friends → Lovers!AU; contains slight angst, (unknowingly) mutual pining, Park Jimin being an A+ wingman, and smut.

WORDS: 9.8k.

A/N: Another fic (one of my first ones, actually) that has a special place in my heart. Enjoy! xx.

There's always an up in the air situation when it came to having a best friend of the opposite sex. Everyone always assumed that the two people were together and when they tell them they're not, they're faced with comments telling them 'Oh, you'd be perfect together!' Or 'You're pretty much together already so why not make it official?' Which can lead to one of two things; an awkward atmosphere that ends up putting too much strain on said friendship, thus the two friends drifting apart and ultimately never speaking again. Or it could lead to seemingly inevitable -- admitting the hidden feelings.

When it comes to yours and Taehyung's friendship, both of those options seem to scare the living shit out of you.

Growing up next door to one another, your friendship seemed to blossom quickly. At the tender age of five you had moved in right next to his house, the bubbly boy bounding down the sidewalk to your house when you were outside watching the movers walk in and out of your new place with never ending boxes. He had introduced himself with an almost toothless grin, the boy automatically claiming that the two of you were going to be 'best friends forever' and you hadn't exactly objected to that idea. While Taehyung was an outgoing eclectic boy, you were shy and reserved. He was always seeking out something that was most likely dangerous or stupid, and you were always there to save him before he got hurt or caught -- the two of you were polar opposites that seemed to work far too well for your liking. But from that first day you met him, the two of you were always by each other's side.

In school he was well-liked. Taehyung was considered a floater, the boy being friends with nearly everyone from all of the labeled 'cliques', and he was just an all-around good energy to be with. He adored the attention he was given and he was always up for making someone laugh, the boy affectionately dubbed a 'social butterfly' by your fellow classmates. You on the other hand would much rather blend in with the crowd, your shy nature not wanting to draw attention to yourself. Sometimes it was hard, especially when it came to being best friends with one of the most well-known boys in school, but you made it work.

You always loved the way he would walk around your high school with the biggest smile on his face as he made sure to say hello to everyone and ask how their days are going or just asking how they are in general. He just had this aura around him that made him so approachable -- to this day you believe that it's because he's so kind hearted and free spirited that people just flock to him to get at least some of his good energy.

You weren't sure when your feelings for Taehyung started to change, perhaps it was when you actually started noticing boys, but the more you get older and older the more apparent your feelings become. Somewhere in between junior and senior year of high school you started to grow nervous around the boy, a blush always forming on your cheeks whenever he smiled at you or held you close. He had always been affectionate towards you, even when you were kids, but it seemed as if the affection had magnified as the two of you grew up. He went from his usual quick brushes of a hug to wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, the boy always making sure to give you a good squeeze as he spins you around; or when he changed from constantly ruffling your hair to kissing your cheek, and sometimes he would swipe his thumb over your lips, claiming that 'you had food on them'. For a while you were convinced that he felt the same way, that maybe the universe wasn't working against you for once and you could actually be happy with the boy you cared so deeply about -- but that fantasy was soon crushed.

You remember that day so clearly; after much convincing from your friends you were zooming through the halls to find Taehyung, your mind settled on grabbing the boy and telling him how you felt, when you see him lip locked with a girl at the end of the hallway. You felt ashamed for even thinking that there was a possibility that he could ever feel the same for you as you do him.

So you locked your feelings away, convinced that someday they would fade for the box-smile boy.

And boy, were you wrong.

Four years later you're still hung up on him. Now that the two of you are in your third year of college, you've learned to tone down the feelings a bit -- the blushing had been replaced with the annoying fluttering of butterflies, but at least they weren't noticeable. He's still by your side, though, and he's still the same social butterfly he was back in high school. The two of you are seemingly closer than ever, the pair of you living together in an off-campus apartment, and everything was fine -- despite the massive feelings you were harboring. You spent most Saturday nights cuddled up on the couch watching reruns of old TV shows on Netflix, popcorn shoved in both yours and his mouth, before the two of you would most likely engage in a pillow fight over the remote and what to watch -- usually because you wanted to watch 'How I Met Your Mother' and Taehyung wanted 'Friends' -- but it was normal for the two of you.

Your friends joke that the two of you bicker like an old married couple, your friends snickering as they tell you to date him already -- something that doesn't exactly help the feelings harbored in your mind -- but you've learned to dealt with the comments over the years.

But as the school year drags on and you find yourself spending a lot more time with Taehyung, those feelings begin to break through their confinements.

Complete darkness surrounds your bedroom as you sleep, your face pressed into your pillow as you drift further into dreamland. Pastel colors and designs flutter behind your closed eyelids, your dream making you unknowingly sigh in your sleep as you mumble in coherent words. The colors seem to get brighter as the dream progresses, and just as the colors start to swirl and begin to form the outline of a familiar face, you're being brought out of dreamland by a booming voice.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!"

A groan emits from your lips at the disturbance, your hands grabbing swatting at the owner as you hear a chuckle from beside you. Light floods your bedroom as your curtains are pulled apart, the sun shining brightly and warmly on your face. Gripping your comforter you tug the blanket over your head and roll over, murmuring curse words under your breath.

"Go away," you mumble and you feel the edge of your bed sink down as a body lays at your feet.

"(Y/N)," Taehyung whines, tugging at your blanket covered legs. "Get up! We have to go to class."

Peeking your head out from beneath the comforter you shoot your best friend a dirty look, the boy grinning as you grumble at him.

"Since when are you so excited to get to class?"

Taehyung's grin widens as he climbs up next to you, his body laying comfortably on the empty side of your bed as he turns his head to look at you. His eyes are filled with laughter, the chocolate irises shining brightly in the morning sun as he pulls you close to him. The action makes butterflies start to flutter deep within your belly, his face burying in the crook of your neck as he snuggles into you.

"I'm not. I was just thinking that we can go get breakfast before it starts so I got you up early enough. We could go to the little café on the corner? Maybe get some coffee and breakfast sandwiches?"

The close proximity of him is starting to make you nervous, your stomach fluttering non stop as he leans over to get a full view of your face. Clearing your throat you try to push him away but he only tightens his grip.

"Tae, if you want me to get ready you're going to have to let me go," you murmur, and Taehyung pouts.

"But you're so warm!" He whines and you're trying to pry out of his iron grip, hands pushing at his body as you groan.

"Just go, Tae! You'll survive without me for a few minutes."

"Barely," he mutters, pouting. Slowly he loosens his grip and slides down the bed before his feet touch the floor. Turning to face you once more, he flashes you a grin before managing to clamber his way out of your bedroom, the door shutting behind him with a 'bang' before you're running a hand over your face.

Turning to the side you spot the alarm clock beside your bed, a frown forming on your lips when you see what time it was.

6:30 A.M.

With one last loud groan you're rolling out of bed and padding your way to the adjoined bathroom, reluctantly getting ready for the day.

"And then he punches the guy!"

Taehyung's excited voice fills the quaint cafe, the boy throwing his hands up in dramatics as he tells you what happened at one of the parties he went to the other night. Two steaming cups of coffee are sat in front of the both of you, delicate breakfast sandwiches placed on a shining white plate as you lean forward to take a bite of yours. Nodding your head in acknowledgement, you cover your mouth as you chew.

"I honestly can't picture Jungkook punching anyone," you chuckle, shaking your head. The youngest of Taehyung's group of friends had always seemed like an innocent boy, too timid and introverted to even be associated with the rambunctious bunch. But hearing all the stories Taehyung tells you about him, you're starting to believe otherwise.

"He knocked him the fuck out!" Taehyung laughs, shaking his head at the memory. "The guy did manage to give Kookie a black eye though right before he was knocked to the ground."

Smiling you nod, lifting the coffee cup to your lips before taking a sip. Silence fell over you two then, the pair of you enjoying your breakfast as you sit in each other's company. Taehyung's gaze is on you as he watches you take a bite of your food, his tongue rolling over his bottom lip when he sees the left-over residue of crumbs on your own lips. Letting a small smile form he's leaning forward and bringing his hand up, his thumb swiping over your lips as he wipes away the food.

You hadn't expected it; your attention had been solely on your food, your mind set on chewing carefully, before you see him lean towards you. When his thumb brushes the curve of your lips your eyes are widening and your eyes find his, the butterflies from earlier fluttering to life as he smiles at you.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "You had crumbs on your lip and it was bothering me."

You can only stare at him, feeling momentarily paralyzed. It had been such a long time that he had been so straight forward like that; the constant touches and cuddles he gives you at home are something you've become accustomed to, it was a normal greeting and goodbye for the two of you. But the last time he wiped something off of your lips was when the two of you were in high school, a boyish grin was on his face and he'd lean in to kiss the corner of your mouth claiming he 'forgot a piece'.

Swallowing thickly you nod your head, your mind racing with all of the different thoughts and scenarios of what could happen next, but before you could let your feelings grab a hold you completely you're sliding your chair back and standing up, purposely avoiding his gaze as you turn to throw your things out.

"We should go if we want to make it to class on time."

With your back turned, you weren't able to catch the smile fall from Taehyung's face, the boy sighing as he silently gets up and follows you.

Tapping your pencil against the side of your head, your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth as you try to think of something to write. The assignment your professor had given you was something you were certain he had just pulled out his ass, the preposterous theme making you almost cry out with stress.

'Write about someone you love. It cannot be a family member or an animal.'

Sighing you fall back against the seat, the pencil dropping from your hand as you rub your temples. As you try to wrack your brain for anything of the specified topic, you feel a tap on your shoulder and you're turning around to meet a toothy grin.

"Having a little trouble, (Y/N)?"

You're meet with the crinkly eye smile of Park Jimin, the boy motioning towards your blank paper. You nod, turning your body so you can face him.

"I have absolutely no idea what to write," you grumble. "I don't love anyone enough to write about them."

Jimin clicks his tongue, a knowing look on his face as he leans forward, arms settling on his desk as he smirks.

"That's not true," he chuckles. "You love Taehyung."

You blanche then, your mouth falling open as Jimin falls back in his seat and stifles his giggles. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the laughing boy, heat flooding to your cheeks as you vigorously shake your head.

"N-- no, I don't!" You deny, and Jimin scoffs.

"Oh please! Everyone knows how you two feel about each other. It's destined to happen sometime soon."

Your head is still shaking at his words, your heart clenching as you try to keep yourself calm.

"Even if I did have feelings for him, he doesn't feel the same way."

Jimin stares at you, his eyes blinking rapidly, before he's throwing his head back and letting out a loud laugh. From the front of the room your professor shoots him a dirty look, the burly man eyeing the two of you before he returns to his papers. Jimin is still chuckling as your body grows hotter and hotter, embarrassment filling you as you move to turn back around to face your desk only to be stopped by Jimin's hand grabbing your arm.

"(Y/N)," he says, giving you a pointed look. "You can't honestly believe that Tae doesn't have some sort of feelings for you..."

Closing your eyes your mind floats to the memory from this morning; the cuddle session in your bed, Taehyung's face buried in your neck as he refuses to let go, and then the moment from the café fills your mind and you're biting your lip as you remember the soft graze of his thumb against your lip. The way his eyes looked at you, the emotion you were able to catch behind the humorous glint. The butterflies return and -- no, you can't.

Your mind flashes to the memory from high school, the way he had the girl pressed against the lockers, lips moving with hers while your heart broke. You couldn't go through that again, you couldn't endure the pain a second time.

"He doesn't have feelings for me," you mutter, turning back in your seat.

Jimin doesn't say anything else, the boy only sending a knowing look to the back of your head before he's turning his attention back towards his paper, a plan brewing in his head.

Shivering lightly as a breeze blew past you, you lean back against the bark of the tree you were sitting underneath as your gaze scanned the courtyard. Various students were sprawled lazily on the green grass, smiles on the majority of their faces as they sit with their friends. It was little past one in the afternoon and you were enjoying the free hour you had before you had to walk to your next class, your brain feeling like it was going to explode from the amount of words and material you had obtained in your first two morning classes. Your legs were laid out in front of you, your limbs stretching comfortably as you breathe in the fresh spring air. It was fairly quiet, apart from the few students scattered amongst the grass who were laughing wildly at their friends, and you basked in the peaceful setting.

"Hey roomie," a voice calls from beside you. Peeking over at the owner of the voice, your gaze settles on a familiar box grin as the boy plops down next to you. You can feel the butterflies start to awaken as he brushes his arm against yours, your head turning away from him as you focus your sight straight ahead.

"Hey, Tae," you say quietly. Your hands fold in your lap, fingers twisting nervously together as you watch a couple embrace each other just a few yards away. A sense of longing fills yours body then, your heart wishing that you could have something like that with someone -- or, more specifically, with the boy next to you.

Timidly you turn to look at Taehyung, who was already looking at you, and smiled at him. He returns your smile, his hand seeking out and finding yours before he holds it.

"You alright, beautiful?" He asks, tilting his head as he looks at you. You immediately flush at his words, bashfully looking away from him as you nod your head.

"Yeah," you answer meekly. "I'm just tired from class."

Taehyung clicks his tongue, nodding in acknowledgement as he tightens his grip on your hand. Shifting his body from side to side he moves closer to you and you manage to catch the scent of his cologne in the air as he peers down at you.

"Are you free tonight?"

Blinking at his question you turn to see him chewing on his bottom lip, his gaze boring into yours. Meekly you nod.

"Yeah, I am," you respond. "Why?"

Taehyung grins and leans closer to you, his fingers now sliding between the spaces of yours as he properly holds your hand.

"What do you say you and I have a movie night? I was thinking something like --"

"Taehyung!"

A sickly sweet voice fills your ears as you turn your head to find a bubbly brunette making her way over to the two of you. Immediately you slip your hand from his grasp, making Taehyung frown, as you scoot away from him. The smile on the girl's face falters as she spots you but then she's grinning once more as she lets her gaze fall back on the boy.

"I wanted to ask you a question," she says, batting her eyelashes. "Are you free tonight? Because I really need someone to help me study for the exam coming up and you're pretty much one of the smartest people I know, so I figured I'd ask you."

The way she said the word 'study' made you inwardly cringe and you knew there was a deeper meaning behind her words, her actions quite clear as she stares expectantly at Taehyung. You already knew his answer though; after being friends with him for so long you knew he'd never turn down a pretty girl, especially when said girl asked him to come over.

Clearing your throat you grab your things and stand up, throwing a fake smile towards the girl and Taehyung.

"He's free," you answer for her, tossing your bag over your shoulder. "He'll be there at five."

Throwing one more fake smile towards the pair, you ignore Taehyung's protests for you to leave as you walk away from them. Angry tears are pricking the corners of your eyes and you're fighting back a scream of agony as you make your way inside the campus building. Just as you turn down the hallway to walk to your last class, a hand grabs your arm and you're being pulled down an empty corridor, your head whipping around to find a smirking Jimin staring back at you.

"Jesus Christ, Jimin," you breathe, placing your hand over your heart. "You scared the shit out of me."

Chuckling, Jimin leans against the wall and crosses his arms, his smirk slowly fading into a frown as he nods his head in the direction of the exit.

"I saw what happened out there," he says quietly, and you sigh. Adjusting the strap of your bag, you avoid his gaze.

"It's nothing to worry about," you mumble, and Jimin scoffs.

"Oh please," he says. "That girl is just someone from his class who's had her eye on him since day one. He doesn't even like her, he just tolerates her because he's the 'nice guy'."

Shaking your head you run your hand through your hair as you begin to step towards the direction of your classroom.

"Jimin I really don't have the time nor patience to talk about this right now," you deadpan. "Can I just go in peace, please?"

You had turned to walk away from him but he grabs you just in time to turn you back to face him, his eyes shining mischievously as a devious smirk forms on his lips.

"I have an idea," he says lowering his voice. "I'm going to get Taehyung to admit his feelings for you."

Rolling your eyes you try to break out his grasp which only makes him tighten his grip, a sigh escaping you as you stomp your foot.

"Jimin!" You grit out, glaring at him. "He doesn't have feelings for me! He never has, never will!"

Jimin clicks his tongue, shaking his head at you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Just trust me, okay," he whispers. Nodding behind at the hallway behind you, you reluctantly turn around to find Taehyung staring wide eyed at the two of you. His jaw was slacked and you watched as his eyes squinted into a glare at Jimin, the latter proudly smirking back at him.

You weren't sure if it was on impulse or what but the next thing you knew you were being pulled into Jimin's embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around your form, as he presses his lips to your cheek. Your gaze is still locked on Taehyung, the boy visibly gritting his teeth as he scowls at the sight of you two, his body turning away from you as he stomps down the hallway. It was only then you realized Jimin's plan, a sigh escaping you as you abruptly pull away from him.

"Are we really going to try and make him jealous?" You ask to which Jimin grins, nodding enthusiastically as he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"You bet we are!" He chimes happily.

Shaking your head, you push him off playfully.

"This is never going to work," you retort.

"Just trust me, okay."

Staring blankly ahead at your reflection in the mirror you let out a sigh, your conscience scolding you for approving this stupid plan. A tight red dress adorned your body, the material hugging each curve and feature perfectly. Red satin pumps were on your feet, the shoes already pinching at your feet as you walk around your room to grab the jewelry you wanted.

A nervous feeling tinged in the pit of your stomach as you thought about Jimin's plan, your conscience scolding you for even going through with this in the first place. He had convinced you to go to dinner with him, a 'fake date' he had called it, so the two of you could talk about future plotting. It went against your better judgment to this but Jimin was persistent, the boy convinced that by the end of the week Taehyung will admit his feelings. There was a large amount of doubt still plaguing your mind about it but you took the chance, figuring there was nothing left to lose.

Glancing one last time at your reflection, you let out a heavy sigh before making your way out of your bedroom. Your heels clack against the wooden panels of the floor as you walk into the living room, your gaze scanning for your black clutch. Once you spotted it on the shelf by the front door you go to grab it when the door opens, your body freezing it's movements as Taehyung's gaze falls on you.

His lips part as his mouth falls open, his gaze scanning over your body as he slowly shuts the door. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he finally meets your eyes, his hands twitching by his side -- the boy holding back from grabbing you.

"W--ow," he breathes out, and you feel heat start to coat your cheeks. Tucking your hair behind your ear you grab the clutch off of the shelf and fake a smile at him.

"Do I look okay?" You ask, twirling to give him the full look. Taehyung nods immediately, his eyes drinking you in.

"God, yes," he whispers. He makes a move to step closer to you when you side step away from him, flicking hair off of your shoulder.

"I have to get going," you say. "I'm late for a date."

"Date?" Taehyung's voice immediately lowers, his usual smile turning downwards into a frown as his eyebrows furrow. "What date?"

Sucking in a breath you shrug nonchalantly, grabbing your phone off of the counter.

"Yeah, I'm going out with Jimin."

Taehyung blanches then, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. From the corner of your eye you can see his hand twitch into fists at his sides, his teeth gritting. You make your way over to the door when he stops you, his body blocking you from going anywhere.

"Tae -- plea --"

"No," he cuts you off sharply. "You're not leaving me to go out with him."

Sighing heavily you try to push him out of the way but his feet are glued tightly to the spot.

"Taehyung, please," you plead. "I don't want to be late."

Taehyung scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest.

"No," he says firmly. "Why are you even going out with him in the first place? He's a fucking womanizer."

"He's your friend, Tae!" You retort to which Taehyung nods.

"Exactly," he affirms. "Which means I know him way better than you do."

Shaking your head, you grasp his arm and put all of your strength into pushing him away from the door, finally being successful when he stumbles out of your way. The second he's not blocking it anymore you're out of the apartment and walking down the hallway, taking note of the thundering footsteps behind you as you make your way out of the building.

"(Y/N)!"

Squeezing your eyes shut you turn to see Taehyung stomping towards you, his eyes blazing angrily as he stops in front of you. He's panting from chasing after you, his breath forming a cloud from the chilly night air.

"Please," he says softly. "Please don't go. You can't -- you can't go out with him."

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his hand press against your hip, his warm touch feeling as if it's searing through your dress, and you watch as his eyes drift downward, his gaze falling on your lips. The butterflies that you had known so well were fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, your heart feeling as if it was going to hammer out of your chest as Taehyung cradles your face with his free hand.

This is it... You think to yourself. This is what I've been waiting for...

"Why?" You ask breathily, and you see his gaze flicker back to your eyes. "Why shouldn't I?"

Taehyung frowns, his thumb stroking the edge of your jaw as he draws back slightly.

"What do you mean?"

Inhaling a shaky breath you close your eyes, your hand placing on his.

"Tell me one good reason as to why I shouldn't go out with Jimin tonight," you murmur. Taehyung blinks at your words, his fingers grasping your hand gently.

"Because we were supposed to have a movie night tonight," he responds, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach.

His words make frustration pile in your body as you tear his hand from your face, your body sliding from his grasp as you glare at him. You can already feel the angry tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes, your bottom lip quivering as you let the emotions from over the last few years start to bubble to the surface.

"You're fucking blind, Kim Taehyung!" You yell, a lone tear slipping past the barrier and down your cheek. "So fucking blind!"

Turning on your heel, you spot Jimin's car at the end of the lot. Your heels click against the pavement, the sound drowning out Taehyung's voice calling out to you as you slip inside of Jimin's car. The boy takes one look at your face and the grin he was wearing vanished, concern replacing it as he watches you buckle yourself in.

"Are you alright?" He asks. "Did something happen."

Shaking your head you sink back into the seat, angrily wiping at your eyes.

"Just drive."

"Oh my fucking god."

Jimin palms his face as he groans loudly, the sound drawing a few people to look over in curiosity. Your lips were turned down into a frown as you angrily shove your spoon into the ice cream sundae. Different plethora's of emotions were wracking your body, your mind being sent into overdrive from the encounter with Taehyung. Your heart clenches painfully at the thought of him; his stupid box grin, his stupid eyes that seemed to shine like the fucking sun. You hated the fact that he could make you feel this way -- that he can make you feel so broken and let down without even knowing he did anything. You hated that he somehow always managed to break your heart with a glance or touch, and you hated how he would be all over you one minute and then all over another girl in the next.

But most of all, you hated how -- somehow through it all -- you still fucking loved him.

Angrily, you shoved a spoonful of the sundae into your mouth. Jimin is still shaking his head from his seat across from you, the boy letting out another groan.

"You know, for someone with such a high G.P.A, he's fucking dumb," he chided. "How oblivious do you have to be to not see what's right in front of you?"

You shake your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel tears threaten to form.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," you whisper, and Jimin's head snaps up to look at you.

"What?"

"I have gone through so much heartbreak because of him -- and he doesn't even know it! My feelings are clearly not reciprocated so what's the point in even trying with him anymore?! I just -- I'm done, Jimin."

Jimin's mouth falls open in shock, the boy's eyes widening at your words. Truth be told, you were quite shocked yourself. You never thought you would have a mindset like this; you had always believed that Taehyung was your soulmate but you weren't his, and you were willing to stay by his side no matter how many times you got hurt. But you've had enough -- you were truly done. You didn't want to endure the heartbreak anymore, you didn't want to believe in something that you knew deep down was never going to happen, and you certainly didn't want to see his face again after you had called him out.

Leaning forward to grab another spoonful of ice cream, you make a move to scoop some onto the utensil when your phone vibrates on the table. Immediately you freeze, your gaze falling on the contact picture of Taehyung's face, and you inwardly glare at the phone flashing back at you. You're silent as you watch it go to voicemail, Jimin sighing from across the table as he shoves a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. Just as you open yours to speak, your phone vibrates once more, your eyes falling to the screen as you watch three text messages come in.

"What did he say?" Jimin asks, mouth still full of ice cream. Sighing, you unlock your phone, the messages staring you right in the face.

From: Tae Please come home.

From: Tae (Y/N), I'm sorry. Please.

The third one makes your heart ache, the butterflies once again coming to life as your eyes scan over the last message. Your hands are trembling as you shake your head, trying not to overthink his response as you hold your phone out to Jimin, the boy immediately grinning at the screen as he hollers happily.

"I told you!" He cheers, and you shush him instantly, glancing around at the angry onlookers faces.

"Shut up," you hissed. "It probably doesn't even mean anything."

"Yeah right," he scoffs. "He's finally realized what's been in front of him this whole time."

Rolling your eyes, you stand up and throw money down onto the table before you're grabbing your bag.

"Can we leave now?" You ask and Jimin nods, the boy placing his own money onto the table as he follows you out.

The message is still embedded in your mind as you slide into Jimin's car, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

From: Tae I love you, please... Come home to me.

Your heart was pumping loudly in your chest as you walked down the hallway, the sound resonating in your ear drum and echoing around your brain. Those damned butterflies hadn't stopped fluttering since you read the message, the feeling making your throat clench in nervousness as you reach your apartment door. All of the anger you had felt earlier was subsided for now, your conscience deciding that one last chance was all he gets. If it isn't what you think it might be, you're done -- for good.

Taking a deep breath you give yourself a moment to collect your feelings, your eyes closing as you breathe in a shaky nervous breath. Slowly you reach forward to grab the doorknob, the metal turning and clicking open as you push it. You're met with silence; the apartment was dim, the only light illuminating the place being the lamp on the opposite side of the room. As you step inside the apartment, you spot Taehyung sitting on the couch, his eyes glued to your form as he stared at you. His legs were seemingly sealed to the floor, his arms crossed over his chest as he tilted his head up, his gaze meeting yours.

Silently you lean over to place your clutch on the shelf, kicking your heels off and placing them off to the side. Turning back to look at Taehyung, the atmosphere thickens with tension as your gazes stay locked on one another. Your heart is beating so fast that you're pretty sure it's about to pump out of your chest, the organ working overtime from all those damned feelings that were bottled up for so long finally shedding to the surface. The silence was defeaning, though, and it was making you anxious. You felt uncomfortable underneath his gaze, your weight shifting from one foot to the other, and you're finally breaking the torture as you take a small step forward.

"I'm home," you say quietly. Taehyung doesn't say anything. He's got his mouth pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing into a glare as he stands up from the couch. You can practically see the steam coming from his ears as he stalks towards you, his feet stopping when he's standing right in front of you.

"You have some nerve," he says, voice lower than usual. "You think you can just run off with some other guy after you practically admitted your feelings?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest.

"I never admitted anything --"

"Cut the bullshit, (Y/N)," he spat, causing you to inwardly flinch. His fists are clenching by his side, his teeth gritted as he glares at you. "After all we've been through you're going to act like this? You're going to act like you don't know?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, your head shaking as you look up at him.

"What are you talking about?"

Taehyung's jaw clenches then, his palm sliding over his face as he grits his teeth.

"Don't act like you don't fucking know, (Y/N)!" His voice raises and your head is swirling, anger pitting in your stomach as you take a step back from him.

"I don't know!" you shout. "If I knew what you were fucking talking --"

"You know that I'm in love with you!"

Shock runs through you then, his words stunning you into silence. Your eyes are wide in alarm, your heart beating too fast for comfort and those damned butterflies causing a tornado of feelings in the pit of your stomach. Taehyung's breathing heavily, the look of pure hatred on his face as he glares down at you.

"You knew how I felt about you and yet you still continue to flaunt your goddamn dates in my face. You knew that I would do anything for you, that --"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You screech. His words are counteracting the feelings deep inside of you, the anger that you had felt earlier overpowering the strong feelings you had for him as you mirror his glare. "You think I'm the one who doesn't know about your feelings? Are you fucking kidding me?"

The tension is thick in the air, both of you glaring at one another as you bravely take a step forward. Your chest presses against his and you can feel the warm breath from him fan against your face as you poke at his chest, pushing him back a step.

"I am the one who has been harboring these goddamn feelings for you all these years! I am the one who's been in love with you since the fucking tenth grade, Taehyung! I'm the one who was going to confess to you in junior year because I thought you felt the same way, only to see you making out with some girl against the lockers! I've loved you since the beginning, you fucking oblivious idiot. So don't you dare -- for one second -- think that I don't because --"

Your angry speech is cut off when Taehyung grabs a hold of both sides of your face and hauls you towards him, his lips smashing harshly onto yours. It's messy, it's rushed -- but it's perfect.

Reaching up you angrily slot your fingers through his hair, tugging harshly on his locks causing him to growl. His hands drop from your face as he grabs at your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up and spinning you around. Your lips are devouring his, tongues battling for dominance as he blindly walks the two of you into your bedroom. Your nails are raking along the nape of his neck, the tips digging into his flesh as he all but throws you down onto the bed. Breaking away from your mouth he's nipping and sucking on the skin of your neck, teeth biting down harshly on your flesh as he grabs at the material of your dress.

"As fucking hot as you look in this," he mutters against your skin, a smirk on his lips as he lifts his head to look at you. "I need it out of the way."

Reaching behind you he's blindly looking for the zipper before tugging it down, your lingerie covered body finally being revealed to him as he slides the dress off of you. You arch into his touch, his too large hands cupping over your clothed breasts as he kisses his way down the valley between them. Your hands are tugging at his chocolate locks before you're sliding them underneath the back of his shirt, your nails raking down his back. Gripping on the hem of his shirt, you pull it over his head before tossing it carelessly to the side. Heat pools in the space between your legs when you feel his teeth clamp down your nipple, Taehyung tonguing at the sensitive bud through the fabric. Your keening at the sensation of his mouth all over you, the euphoria of the current situation being real enough to make your toes curl and your back arch.

How many times have you dreamt of this? How many times have you wished that this would happen? Too many goddamn times.

"Taehyung," you moan, and the boy smirks against your cleavage as he lifts his head to look at you.

"Yes, baby?" He asks, a look on his face so smug that you want to slap it right off.

"Fucking touch me," you grit out causing him to chuckle.

Wordlessly he's reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, tossing the useless material to the side before he wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your now bare breast. You moan loudly at the contact, your eyes squeezing shut when you feel his teeth clamp around your nipple. The mixture of pain and pleasure fills your body and you're moaning his name as you lift your hips up, grinding up into him. You can feel the outline of his hard length through the fabric of his jeans, the friction of the material against your thigh making you mewl as you arch into him once more.

He switches his mouth over to your other breast as his hand travels south, long slender fingers tracing the outline of your body until he's reaching the hem of your panties. Slipping his digits past the fabric, Taehyung smirks against your breasts when he runs them along your folds, your breast falling from his mouth with a 'pop' as he lifts his head to look at you.

"Damn, baby girl, you're already so wet and I've barely touched you," he remarks, sliding his fingers along your drenched core. A moan makes its way past your lips as you buck your hips up into his hand, silently pleading for him to touch you. Taehyung knows, the stupid smirk on his face tells you so, but he doesn't give you what you want. Instead he's stilling his hand, his digits pausing their movements as they hover right where you want them.

"You want my fingers, sweetheart?" He asks and you whimper, nodding vigorously. Taehyung 'tsk's' his tongue, shaking his head at you. "That's not good enough, baby. You have to use your words."

I can't use my words, you fucking asshole, you mentally shout.

Your hips are bucking forward again, this time his fingers slipping between your heat for a mere second before retracting, a whine escaping you as you reach down to grab a handful of his hair.

"Taehyung," you spat. He merely blinks up at you, amusement on his features as he looks at you expectantly.

"Yes, darling?"

"I swear to god, if your fingers aren't inside me in two fucking seconds I'm going to get up and find someone else to finish me off."

His eyes cloud over at your words, a snarl escaping him as he all but tears your panties off of you. He slithers up your body until his mouth is pressed at your ear.

"You wouldn't fucking dare," he spits out and you chuckle humorlessly.

"Try me."

That was all it took for him to finally slide his digits past your folds, his mouth swallowing your moan as he pumps the two digits inside of you. Your nails rake against his scalp your lips move fiercely against his, your hips bucking up into his touch and creating a friction so delicious you're practically seeing stars behind your eyes. His tongue swirls around yours as his fingers scissor inside of you, the two digits pumping in and out of you wildly. He's humming against your mouth, the sound reverberating around your wet cavern, as he shifts his wrist. The new position causes his digits to surge deeper within you and they end up brushing a spot that makes you cry out against his mouth.

"Fuck, Taehyung!"

Your voice is shot and your thighs are trembling as he relentlessly works his digits against that spot, your nails raking down his back as you mark his flesh with angry red lines. The feeling of your nails makes Taehyung growl, his wrist twisting and turning before he's pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, sending your hips jolting off of the bed.

"Oh -- fuck!"

It doesn't take long for him to bring you to your first release, a few harsh rubs of your clit and you're sent over the edge; your hips bucking into his touch as your thighs tremble with the aftermath of the release. Taehyung's name falls from your lips as he milks your orgasm with his fingers, the slender digits still pumping in and out of your now over sensitized core before he's slipping them out of you and bringing them up to his face. As you come down from your high, your eyes flutter open just in time to see him slip the digits into his mouth, sucking your juices off of them before he's moaning in delight.

"Fuck, now I have to fully taste you."

Slithering down your body, Taehyung lets his legs hit the ground as his hands wrap around your thighs, fingers gripping your flesh as he pulls you towards the end of the bed. His nose brushes your clit as he inhales, breathing in your scent and growling as the grip on your thighs tighten.

"You smell so good, baby girl," he mutters, and you whimper.

"Tae," you whisper, your hand digging into his scalp as you brush your hips against him, your core coming in contact with his mouth and making you mewl.

"Patience, sweetheart," he grins from between your thighs. "I'm just getting started."

Hooking one of your thighs over his shoulder, Taehyung wastes no time in leaning forward and attaching his lips to your core. The moment you feel his tongue brush against your folds, you're arching your back and melting into his touch, your core pulsing against his tongue as he laps harshly at it.

"Mm," he hums against your core. "You taste even better than I thought you would."

Your fingers are twisted in his hair, tugging and pulling at his locks as you mewl his name, your hips bucking up into his face. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as he moves his mouth up to wrap around your clit, a lewd suck emitting from him as he brings the sensitive bud into his mouth. You're writhing beneath him, one hand tangled in his locks while the other rakes roughly down his back, your nails marking his skin as he marks your core with his tongue.

"Taehyung," you pant, causing the boy to hum against your mound. "Make me cum again, baby."

Peeking up at you through his eyelashes, Taehyung smirks against your core before he's flattening his tongue against your clit, licking harshly against the bud as he pulls you closer to his mouth. With both of your legs now over his shoulders, you're rolling your hips against his face, the friction making the coil in your stomach start to tighten, Taehyung's tongue flicking and flattening over the bundle of nerves, your body wasting no time in reaching your second release of the night as you feel yourself reach your high.

Flashes of white illuminates the darkness behind your eyelids, your entire body convulsing as you cum against his mouth. He's holding your lower body close, his tongue lapping up every last drop of your release as he hums against you, the sound reverberating against your body as you tremble against him. Your breathing is ragged, your body completely spent, but you can feel Taehyung slithering back up your body as you struggle to open your eyes. Your body is on high alert, every tiny brush of him making you moan and writhe beneath him. He's got a dirty smirk on his face, his tongue darting out to run along his lips before he's crashing them down onto yours, tongue brushing past the seam of your lips and pushing into your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue, the sensation making you moan against his mouth as your hands glide down the planes of his chest, your fingers brushing the hem of his jeans as you lift your hips up to meet his. Taehyung groans, his mouth pulling from yours as he pushes your hands out of the way.

You watch as he sits up, nimble fingers quickly undoing his belt before he's pushing that and the material of his jeans down his legs, his boxers soon following. Your gaze falls to the flushed head of Taehyung's cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip, and you're licking your lips as you watch him slide a condom over his length. Taehyung meets your gaze and smirks, the boy crawling towards you on his hands and knees. With his chest pressing against yours he brushes your lips with his as he lines himself up with your entrance. His hand searches for yours, his fingers fitting between the spaces of yours, and he's leaning down to latch his lips onto yours before he's finally pushing inside.

"Oh fuck," he groans. "You feel even better that I thought you would, too."

The feeling of his hard cock brushing against your walls makes both of you moan against each other's lips, his grip on your hand tightening as he sinks further into you. Your lips move in a hasty, almost desperate, kiss as he starts thrusting into you. With a rhythm building up, Taehyung's thrusts gradually faster and harder, soon the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing around the room as your lips dance blindly in the dark.

All of the pent up feelings, emotions, thoughts that were considered faulty or taboo -- it all led up to this moment; you and Taehyung were finally together. All of the hurt, the longing, the aches -- it was all worth it in the end. Complete euphoria and passion flows around the two of you, spiraling around both of your bodies as the two of you melt into one another, molding together as one -- like two matching pieces of a puzzle. You're overcome with emotion as his hips brush against yours, tears blurring your vision as you pull back from his mouth. Your hands are cradling his face, tear filled eyes looking up at him as you give him a watery smile.

"I love you," you whimper, and Taehyung can't help but let a brightening smile form on his lips. His hand is gripping yours as tight as he can, afraid that you'll slip away if he lets go, and he's leaning into your touch.

"I love you too," he whispers.

Love.

It consumes you, fills you up to the brim, and you're letting the tears fall down your face as you bring him back down to you, your lips consuming his in the most passionate kiss you've ever experienced. Flashing lights are illuminating your eyelids, fireworks booming in your mind as you kiss him slowly, your tongues lewdly mingling in a dance that was more than words can describe. He's angling his hips so that his cock delves deeper inside of you, the tip brushing against the spot his fingers did, and you're moaning wantonly into his mouth, silently egging him on with your tongue.

Your high sweeps over you in an overwhelming burst, your toes curling and your nails digging into the ridges of his spine as you clench around him, your body succumbing to the feeling of finally having Taehyung inside of you as your high washes over you in a slow moving wave. Your thighs tremble, your lips stilling against his as you cry out his name, Taehyung grunting as his lips pepper kisses along the ridge of your jaw, mouthing at your flesh as his rhythm grows sloppy. He's riding out your orgasm as his quickly approaches, the boy coming in quick spurts as he reaches his own high.

Your hands are still in his grasp, fingers laced tightly together as Taehyung rides out his release, his face dropping into the crook of your neck before he's shakily collapsing on top of you. Ragged breathing and quiet whimpers fill the room as the two of you bask in the aftermath, both satisfaction and relief filling yours and his body as you come to terms with what exactly had just happened.

The sound of a deep laugh fills the bedroom, Taehyung's shoulders shaking as he laughs against you. Confusion fills you as you turn your head to look down at him, his bright smile almost blinding you as he rests his chin on your sternum.

"Why are you laughing?" You ask quietly, and Taehyung shakes his head. Knotting his fingers in your hair, he pulls you towards him, his lips kissing you softly as he chuckles.

"We could have been doing this for three years," he comments.

You blink, his words finally sinking in, before you're grinning like a maniac. Cupping his face in your hands you bring him back up to your lips, kissing him with fervor as you roll over so that you're hovering above him.

"I love you," you murmur, and Taehyung beams.

"I love you too, beautiful."

Your hand is tightly clasped in Taehyung's as he walks you to your first class of the day, his body pressing yours against the wall as he leans down to attach his lips to yours. Slow, languid kisses are exchanged as a way of saying goodbye for now, the two of you not wanting to part but knowing you have to. His hands are pressed to your hips now, fingers gently massaging the visible skin between your shirt and jeans. Just as his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, a voice interrupts from behind you.

"Well fuck me."

Breaking apart from Taehyung's mouth, your met with the smirking face of Jimin, his eyes crinkled in the corner as his smirk forms into a smile. Taehyung grunts, turning back to you and attaching his lips to your neck.

"Go away," he mutters to his friend, making Jimin scoff.

"Is that how you talk to someone who helped get you together with the love of your life?" His tone is full of sarcasm and you can't help but giggle, your hands pushing Taehyung away as you walk over to Jimin. Throwing your arms around the boy's neck, you hug him tightly.

"Thank you," you whisper, and Jimin pats your back with excitement.

"Anytime, dear."

Pulling back from him, you offer him one last smile before turning back to Taehyung. Your arms loop around your boyfriend's waist as you push yourself up on your toes, kissing him softly on the edge of his jaw.

"I love you."

Taehyung beams down at you, his lips capturing yours in one last kiss -- much to Jimin's dismay because 'hey, I'm still here, guys!' -- before he murmurs back to you.

"I love you too."

#bts smut #taehyung smut #v smut #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios

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