#I guess I’m collecting fridge magnets too now

[graveyardrabbit]

hello today I found the Best Fridge Magnet That Ever Was

[gucciwins]

Weeping Willow

Harry sends his wife for a girl’s night, and their five-month-old baby falls sick.

Word count: 5,093

A/N: i am no expert on babies (unless it’s my almost two-year-old niece) but i have it on good authority this does bring down fevers. This was written for @tbslenthusiast dadathon. i hope you love it. xx

___

It's a Saturday night, and Harry tries his best to convince his wife to go out with her friends for a nice dinner while he cares for baby Willow.

Their five-month-old infant. The sweetest little girl to grace the earth in Harry's opinion. 

He's never felt a love like this, a never-ending love for his child. He swears he has never been more in love with his wife, his twin flame, for giving him the greatest gift he will ever receive. 

She's standing there cradling Willow in her arms as she begins to drift off to sleep. Humming a song she hasn't shared with Harry. Something special between mother and daughter. As much as Harry hates to admit it but their daughter is a momma's girl at heart. 

Willow feels that extra protection from her mother; he gives her all the cuddles and kisses, but there is no more special bond than when Y/N holds her close to her heart, and Willow settles down in seconds. When she is breastfeeding, Y/N tells her the stories of her childhood and when Harry and she were first dating. 

It's the irregular sleep schedule that Y/N has never once complained about. 

Harry wakes up at the oddest of times when he stretches his arms out to reach for Y/N to pull her close to his chest only to find her missing. More time than not, he'll find her at their windowsill, Willow getting her night time meal as Y/N gazes at the moon softly singing Lolo a lullaby that was once sung to Y/N. The moonlight bouncing off her skin made her look eternal as if she weren't real, and Harry just imagined up this life. 

But she is real, and she is all his, and their daughter is theirs. 

As a kid, this was the life he dreamed of, never knowing if it would come true or not. He will never stop being grateful for all he has in life, full of love. 

Harry is brought out of his thoughts when Y/N addresses him. 

"I don't know, H. She's a little warm." Y/N stands there, the back of her hand gently placed on her baby's forehead before moving it to Willow's cheek. She smiles down at her sleeping baby.

Harry sighs, extending his arms for her to hand him their small baby. She shakes her head, taking two steps back. 

Harry chuckles because he knew this would happen, but he forgot how stubborn she could be. 

She's wearing Harry's lilac robe, her hair curled, and makeup is done. He made her do a red lipstick because he missed it. It's one that Gemma gave her that's smudge and transfer free. Meaning he can kiss her with it all night long without his lips turning red. 

"Willow is fine. Maybe she passed some gas." 

She rips her gaze from Willow and shoots him a glare. He puts his hands up in defense. 

"If she starts feeling sick, you know the crying won't stop. She likes it when I soothe her."

"She's my daughter too. I can take care of her and soothe her just as good."

She kisses Willow's head, slowly continuing to grow brown curls just like Harry's. "I know you can, but there's this motherly instinct telling me not to go."

"My husband instinct is saying that my wife should go out to dinner with her friends for a nice dinner and some wine." Harry rebuttals. 

"I don't drink." She mutters into her baby's head as she adjusts her to lay on her chest as she sways side to side. 

"Well, then go crazy with the strawberry lemonade." 

She sighs. Harry knows she's close to giving in. 

Her clothes set out in bed, ready for her to throw on. Harry chose her outfit, and he's proud of it. Camel-tone flared fitted trousers, a black fitted v-neck, and a double-breasted twill blazer to tie the look. Her black Gucci 'sucker' boots waiting for her at the door to be slipped on then head out the door. 

"If I go, you have to promise to text me every hour." 

"Half hour if you really need it." He counters. 

She shakes her head, no. "If you do that, I'll be home by the second text." 

He nods, happy she agreed to go. She needs this no matter how much she had been fighting it. 

"Alright, Lolo, I'm going to leave you with your Daddy for a few hours. I hope you don't miss me too much. I'll make up for leaving you with cuddles for the whole night, munchkin." 

Harry's eyes well up, always in awe at the relationship between his wife and their daughter. Their beautiful five-month-old daughter who Harry, thinks is growing too fast. She's still on the small side, but the doctor assured them she was doing good. 

Y/N placed her in the crib that Harry put together with Gemma's help, who wanted to be involved with as much as Harry would let her. 

She stirs a little, but Y/N pats her chest softly, calming her down. 

"I'm going to go get dressed. Turn on the baby monitor, please?" She points in the direction of it.

"On it, love." 

She walks out and gets dressed quickly, knowing there's a reservation, and she doesn't like arriving late. Harry meets her downstairs baby monitor in hand as she stands boots safely on her feet. 

Harry shamelessly checks her out. He almost begs her to stay after seeing how good she looks, but he knows she needs this.

"Text me when you get there." He wraps her in a hug, not wanting to let go just yet. 

"Of course." 

She pulls back, looking up at him before leaning in to peck his lips three times; she walks out the door, bag in hand, when Harry tugs her wrist, turning her around connecting his lips with hers. It's a short passionate kiss, Harry's tongue fighting for dominance. She lets out a small moan. Y/N, let's Harry be the one to pull back, not at all wanting to break the kiss. 

Harry smirks as he sees the dazed look in her eyes. "Just so you know what you have waiting at home for you." 

"You menace." Harry leans on the door as she walks out. "I love you, H." 

"And I love you." 

Harry watched as she drove away before going back in and heading straight to the nursery, where his darling Willow is still sleeping.  

"Just you and me, Lolo," Harry whispers as he sits in the rocking chair and lays back to rest his eyes. It's like they say when the baby sleeps, he does as well. 

____

Harry wakes up when he hears a small sneeze. He peeks at Willow, but she still has her eyes closed. He picks up his phone to check how long he slept and is shocked. It was only twenty minutes; he felt like it had been much longer now, feeling a bit more energized. 

He sees a text Darling and opens it, 

I've arrived safely. 

I miss you both so much already. xx 

Harry can't help but smile. He misses her already. He might always be playing music in the house that fills the silence, but Harry only does it because she sings along to each song no matter how bad she can butcher the lyrics to an unknown song. 

She fills the home with warmth and love. 

I love you! Lolo is still sleeping. Have a lovely night. xx 

Harry sat in the rocking chair, just gazing at his daughter. Her cheeks were a little red, but he thought she might be a bit warm. He unwraps the blanket, just watching her stretch out her small fists. 

Willow slowly blinks her eyes open, a small smile on her face when she sees her father looking down at her. 

"You up, Lolo? No more sleep, I'm guessing." 

She continues to stare at Harry before turning her head to the door. Harry knows she's waiting for someone to come in. After a few moments of no movements, Willow looks at Harry, giving her a small smile.

"Waiting for your Mum, I know. She'll be back later; for now, it's you and me." 

Harry reaches in to pick her up, gently shushing her, not wanting her to start crying. He walks down the stairs slowly, the fear of tripping down the stairs more present than ever with his baby in his arms. 

Harry sits her on the couch, a pillow propped up on the back to help support her back, and grabs her stuffed bunny that was left on the coffee table. It's her favorite toy to play with at all times. 

Willow sets it in her lap, not at all looking at it, eyes on Harry. He sees her eyes begin to well up, and he knows the tears are coming. He scoops her up gently, letting the bunny fall to the floor so Harry could soothe his baby. 

"My Willo baby, no tears. You know it breaks my heart." He begins shushing gently. Gemma swears by it watching Alice do the Ss in New Amsterdam. Y/N does it too, her grandma teaching her that when she helped watch over younger cousins. 

This settles her for a second, resting her head in the crook of Harry's neck as he rubs a hand gently down her back. "Good baby, Momma would be proud of us." He knows he made a mistake once she lets out a loud wail. 

He can only assume the word Momma did it for her. 

His phone alarm begins to ring, meaning it's the hour update, and if he doesn't check-in, she'll call, and if he doesn't answer, she'll worry even more and drive herself more. He does not need that happening. 

Harry will not let her call; he'll send a sleeping photo of Willow to Y/N to keep her calm because he can do this. He can tend to his child alone. She's half of his DNA; why wouldn't he be able to. 

His Mum always told him babies cry for three reasons: dirty diaper, sleepy, and hunger. He assumes she's hungry. Has to be, her diaper doesn't feel full, and she also doesn't smell. 

As Harry goes to the kitchen, he stops at the fridge. He sees all the magnets that Y/N loves collecting when visiting a new country, state, or city. Her favorite being the Trevi Fountain. Tells her every time she sees it, she can see Harry down on his knee, tears in his eyes and heart wide open for her. Safe to say it became his favorite as well. Right under it is a yellow sticky note "Just in case xx Dr. Harp" The phone number of Willow's pediatrician. 

Y/N really is the best, but he knows that he has everything under control, or at least he keeps telling himself that as Willow continues her crying, no amount of words calms her. He'd also call his Mum before the pediatrician, who would only end up calling Y/N. 

"Mummy left your milk in the fridge; now, all we have to do is warm it up." 

Willow's cries go quiet for a second at what Harry can only think was at word milk. He can do this. 

They don't bottle feed her as often, both preferring her to breastfeed directly from Y/N. Harry encouraged her to pump milk because Y/N has complained over too many milk stained shirts. It has helped her tremendously. A few times, when Y/N was too tired to get up, he offered to warm the milk to feed Willow. Y/N knew how important it was for Harry, so she allowed him and began pumping more for Harry to help provide her during the day. 

He gets a bowl and fills it with hot water, then places the bottle in. He knows it should be a few minutes, he begins singing to Willow. He sings her the song he wrote for his sister, which holds meaning to Y/N now, finding a connection that makes them feel at peace when hearing the song. As Harry gently sings 'Sweet Creature,' he sees her settle, nose runny from the tears, he grabs one of her clothes that Y/N keeps in the kitchen. Truth be told, she has them spread all over the house to have one on hand when necessary. He wipes the snot then drapes it over his open shoulder. He checks the temperature, able to hear Y/N scold him in his head for wanting to skip the step. 

"Lolo, going to go sit down, and then you can begin eating." She blinks up at him, her green eyes unfocused, refusing to settle on one place of his face. 

He sits and adjusts Willow to cradle her in his arms. He does a final temperature check on his wrist and is happy with the outcome. He slowly brings it up to her lips to startle her, and she latches on after a few seconds. 

Harry leans back on the chair, releasing a long sigh. He feels victorious, even just for a moment. 

The phone on the couch seat next to him displays a text:

 I love you both. xx 

He's in the clear. 

Harry sings Willow the first song that pops into his head, well he mainly hums as she has her eyes closed and a fist clenched on her blanket and the other tucked in. He pulls the bottle away once he sees no more movement. He wipes the outside of her mouth very carefully to not disturb her. 

"Willow, Angel, I need to burp you. You shouldn't even feel it." Harry likes warning her; he knows she understands. 

He's done relatively quickly, settling her back in his arms to let her sleep. Harry would love to turn the television on, but he settles for staring at the angel in his arms. 

Harry frowns when he sees Willow's eyes flutter open. She sleeps longer after eating. 

"Lolo, it's barely been ten minutes. That's not enough for a growing baby. You need to grow up to be strong, just like Momma."

Willow lets out a small cough. It startles Harry, not having heard the sound before. He gently picks her up and begins patting her back, soothing her as she calms down. 

Harry thinks back to the phone number stuck on the fridge but shakes the thought away because one cough is not enough to make a call, especially this late at night. 

He is now slowly walking in front of the couch, trying to get her to fall back to sleep. It's not working. 

It starts off in small whimpers before turning into loud wails. 

This is not good. 

Harry tries his best to place his baby's cries, but it does not sound familiar. He isn't calling Y/N; worrying her is not part of tonight's plans, but there is someone in mind who will always answer him. Without thinking twice, he goes to favorites and picks the second person. 

"Hello love, how are you?"��

He's greeted by a calming voice, but it does nothing to soothe the pounding in his heart. "Hi, Mum." Harry isn't even sure she heard with Willow's loud cries. 

"Is something wrong? Why is little Willow crying? Where's Y/N?" Anne is quick to jump in.

"Today was her first girl's night out that I was insistent she go out to even though she didn't want to, but she should be back in the next hour or so." He addressed that question before jumping into the most important one. "Willow coughed then settled down before bursting into this cry. I've never heard it before. It's not her hungry one because she ate half an hour ago, and her diaper is clean." He lets out a sob he didn't know he was holding back. 

"Oh, dear, right. First off, is she hot? warmer than usual." 

Harry pulls her back, face scrunched up, nose full of snot. He places the back of his hand on his forehead, and it's burning. "Yes, she's warm. But couldn't it be from the crying?" 

Anne sighs, worried for her son, but this is parenthood having to see your child get sick and old help them through it. The first time is always the worst, but each time after that still breaks your heart. "No love, check her temperature and call the pediatrician. Tell her the symptoms, and you can go from there. Right, hang up, call Y/N, and the pediatrician in that order." 

Harry agrees to get her off the phone and to make the call right away. Anne knows Harry well enough that he will skip one important thing she told him to do, so she takes it upon herself to get it done. 

 He heads upstairs, sitting the still crying Willow in the crib as he searches for the thermometer he knows Y/N keeps next to the wipes for emergencies. He is quick to take off her shirt as gently as one can be and sticks it under her armpit as he waits for it to ring as he dials Dr. Harp.

There is an answer on the third ring, just as the thermometer beeps. 

"Dr. Harp, hello, it's Harry Styles, father of Willow Styles." He says in a rush.

"Yes, Mr. Styles, what can I do for you." The doctor's voice is kind, and it calms Harry knowing there's a professional helping him. 

"Well, my daughter slept about ten minutes before waking up after eating, and that isn't normal for her. She had a bit of a cough and has not stopped crying for the past twenty minutes now. She's burning up Doc. The thermometer says 103F. Shit, I meant 39C. My wife's family got us a fancy thermometer that gives us both numbers." He feels the need to explain a hand on the back of Willow's head, trying to calm her down as well as himself. 

"Well, it seems it could be a common cold. There is not a lot to do, except keep your baby drinking milk. Mrs. Styles is still breastfeeding, correct?"

"Yes."

"Okay, it's important to keep her hydrated and check with her through the night. To bring down the temperature, a lukewarm bath would help as well as a humidifier because, from the sounds of it, she is a bit congested." 

Harry nods along to everything she is saying, repeating it back. "Thank you so much, Dr. Harp." 

"It's no problem; if the fever doesn't break or gets higher than 40C, then I suggest you head straight to the hospital." Dr. Harp says her goodbyes as he picks up Willow and heads to their bedroom, taking her into their bathroom. 

He looks around, not sure what to do first that he misses the sound of the door opening and closing as well as footsteps up the stairs. It might have also been Willow's crying. 

Willow lock's eyes with Y/N over Harry's shoulder, stopping for a second, causing Harry to gasp before she starts up louder than before for not being in her mother's arms. 

"Willow, darling," Y/N smiles at her daughter, cheeks red and nose snotty but still her beautiful baby. 

Harry feels like he can breathe properly now that she's home with him. His missing half home, finally feeling complete. He does feel awful for not calling her right away, but he swore she was having a good time. 

Harry hands over Willow to Y/N's waiting arms watching as she cradles her close, pressing repeated kisses to her daughter's brown hair. Willow instantly clenches a fist onto her necklace, not that Y/N minds, but Harry feels guilty for depriving his daughter of her mother. It was his fault she was out tonight. 

"How'd you get here so quick?" Are the first words Harry thinks to say. 

Harry thought she'd be mad at him for not calling, but all he sees are her kind and gentle eyes he fell in love with. 

"Anne called me to update me, but I was already ten minutes from home. I had dinner but got it to go having that nagging feeling you needed me. Anne called it mother's intuition, but" She breathes in Willow's smell, Harry finding it endearing how she always says she smells amazing like peaches. "I swear I could feel how distressed you were. I thought you were having a bad time, so I got you ice cream and brought home a meal we could share." 

He leans against the sink, a small grin forming on his face. "I did always tell you we were soulmates." 

Y/N steps further into the bathroom, heading to the tub to get the water-filled. She sits on the toilet, letting it fill before dipping her hand in from time to time. It feels a bit less than halfway before she closes the tap. 

"Doctor's orders were getting the temperature down, right?" Y/N asks Harry, and he nods. "Well, in the lukewarm bath, she goes." Y/N fakes as if she is going to place Willow in before hugging her to her chest once more. "I'm only playing." She boops Lolo's nose.

"Your momma thinks she's so funny, Lolo." Harry rolls his eyes at her, not at all, hiding the love behind them. 

"Get in the bath with her, H." Y/N has successfully undressed Willow, giving her kisses all over, causing Willow to let out a small giggle. 

Harry near tears now. "That's the first time she laughed this entire night." 

"Honey, listen. She hasn't gotten sick before. It's okay, we're learning." She reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, and he leans into it eagerly. "We are learning together." He nods as she pulls her hand away. "Now, do I need to undress my other baby as well?" 

He smiles. "You're welcome to, but I got this." He slips off the black shirt and grey sweats, leaving on his briefs.

The water is perfect. Not that he expected any different because she does everything with extra care and love for Willow. He's glad to have her as his life partner and mother of his child and future children. 

He slips in, sitting down, letting Y/N gently place Willow on his bent knees. He cups her head, gently sinking himself lower. She hands him a cloth, and he looks at her, eyes wide. 

"Wet it, rinse it a bit, then just sponge it around her." 

He nods but doesn't move to receive it. Y/N moves forward, dips it in the water, and squeezes it leaving a bit of water. She gently gets Lolo's back patting before moving down. 

"Thank you." He says and accepts the cloth. 

Y/N makes her way to the bedroom. "You're leaving?" He questions, causing Willow to look at her as well. 

She laughs at her two loves, both wanting her close. "Going to turn on the humidifier. It's going to be good for her and her congestion. Then will get you both a new change of clothes before coming back. Is that okay with you both?" 

Harry looks down at Willow that still has her eyes on her Momma. "What do you think, Lolo? Think we should let Momma take care of us." He hums as if hearing her response. "She said not to take too long." 

"Wouldn't dream of it." 

Harry settles in, Willow moving her hand in the water, intrigued by the ripples allowing Harry to rinse her. He feels good, feels great, and can honestly help her and no longer cry about it. 

Y/N knows he needs this but hopes she isn't feeling too awful about leaving Willow when she got sick for the first time.

For all, he knows she could be crying in their bedroom or, even worse, the nursery where he can't hear her. 

But that's what Harry is here to remind her what a fantastic team they are and how she saved the day like always. He's proud of her just as he knows she's proud of him. 

____

It's twenty minutes when Y/N walks back in. Now dressed in grey sweats and an old white shirt that Willow loves to cling on. She approaches, and Harry raises Willow so that she can wrap her in the yellow towel. 

"My munchkin smells so good." She kisses her cheek. She turns to look at Harry with a smile on her face making him smile back. "Shower, I'm going to dress her, and then I'll bring your clothes in."

"Okay, love." 

Harry drains the water before turning on the showerhead, letting the warm water wash away the stress in his body. He doesn't take too long, wanting to cuddle his two girls all night long.

Walking out, dressing in the warm clothes that she must have thrown in the dryer for him knowing how he likes to be warm after a long night. He smiles, slipping the shirt over his head, slipping on the black sweats with no need for briefs. Turning off the bathroom light, closing the door, he sees Willow lying on Y/N's chest. 

"How is she doing?" Harry paddles over, hovering over Y/N to kiss her forehead, doing the same to Willow.

"Better, the temperature is at 98." 

Harry smiles, glad she's under three digits again. She looks sweet dressed in a bodysuit with small bumble bees all over. Y/N wrapped the knitted mint green blanket that Y/N's mother made for Willow around her shoulder to keep her warm but not enough to overheat.

"That's great. Our baby is so strong." Harry gets in bed and sits against the headboard, making Y/N shift over to rest her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around Willow for support. 

____

It's an hour of silence basking in hearing their baby's breathing. Not as smooth due to the congestion but better than before. Harry places a kiss on Y/N's forehead when he feels the first tear, then many more follow. A sob breaking out, but breathing even to not disturb their sleeping baby on her chest. 

"Love, lovie, hey. Don't cry. She's doing better already." He wraps the arm tighter, hoping he can transfer all his love for her through the hug. 

"I'm just overwhelmed." She chokes out. 

Harry sits up to face her, reaches his hands out to wipe her rapidly falling tears.

"Please don't be mad with yourself; if there is anyone to be mad at, it's me." He pleads for her to understand. "I told you to leave us be." 

"Not mad at you, honey." She whimpers. "I-I-I'm upset I wasn't here to help you. But you handled it so well. Very proud of you." 

Harry sits there, tears falling out of his eyes now because she was proud. He did nothing. He knows he did nothing; he called his Mum and the doctor. He never got her to stop crying.

"I didn't do anything."

"Honey, you did." Her voice firm, one hand reaching up to gently raise his head to look at her. "You called Anne because you knew she would help and then called Dr. Harp for help." 

"But she never stopped crying, not until you held her." 

She shakes her head. "She was feeling bad, she cried at discomfort and unusual feelings. Might have also sensed your panic," She teases. He lets out a small chuckle. 

"We're a team. Together and apart, H." 

Harry lays down on his side, pulling Y/N down with him. He does it slowly to not move Willow; Harry lays his head on her shoulder, looking down at their baby. He lets himself relax, knowing she's going to be okay.

"I love you." He whispers. No response causing him to look up at a grinning Y/N. "Say it back." 

She giggles. "Thought you were talking to Lolo." 

"That was for you, wife." 

"My bad," She pecks his nose. "I love you, H." 

"Missed." He mutters, puckering his lips in her directions. 

"Dork." She closes the small distance and hums at the sweet taste that is Harry and mint toothpaste. He deepens it for a few seconds before pulling back. His eyes closed. He kisses her from her cheeks to her collarbones, no spot left untouched. He steals one more kiss before settling down. 

"Sleep tight, my darling, Willow," Harry whispers, throwing his arm over Willow's small body and Y/N's stomach for extra protection.

He peeks one eye open to see Y/N smiling down at Willow, no sign of sleep in her features. "I take it you won't be going out anytime soon again." 

"You got that right." She jokes. "No, it was nice. I forgot how good it is to chat about anything other than what size diapers she's going to need next."

"That's not all we talk about. We also talk about the size of your boobs." 

She snorts at his comment, and he happily joins in. 

"We haven't had a date night, well we have but indoors with a baby always in arms." 

Harry smirks. "What do you have in mind, love?" 

She blushes, "We go away for the weekend, leave Willow with Anne or Mitch since he keeps saying we keep his goddaughter away from him." 

"You'd be okay with that?" Harry checks, making sure she really wants this. 

She nods. "I'll miss her like crazy, my heart is beating faster just at the thought, but I miss you." There's a gleam in her eye, one when she gets lost in a memory. "It's quickies and late-night conversations. As much as I love our daughter, I miss my best friend." 

Harry grins, glad she's sharing this. "Any other time, I'd make a joke, but honestly, I miss you just as much." 

"Then, coordinate with Jeff on a weekend you're free and look for a place we can go to. Driving or flying whatever you find best." 

"Oh, baby, I'm going to make you fall in love with me all over again." 

"I'm counting on it, Harry." 

Harry helps Y/N drift off to sleep with his ideas of where they can go and all the naughty things they will get up to. 

Harry knows nothing in life will be better than being in the arms of his two favorite girls.

___

Thank you for reading. Please reblog it means a lot to me. 

Come and tell me what you thought of Weeping Willow 

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

13 Going on 30 pt. 3

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfic based off the movie 13 going on 30

Summary:  You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Angst, Some suggestive content, But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also Peter has no powers in this fic, and some scenes will be changed to fit Peter and his personality and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2103

Peter thought it was safe to say that adult life sucked. And it wasn't just because he had run out of lucky charms this morning and had to settle for something called shredded wheat that was hidden away in the back of the panty. They were gross and tasted like cardboard, but Peter was all out of groceries so this would have to do.

 No nothing had seemed to go right for him after high school, he went to college, (even though he spent most of the time partying and goofing off), got the degree and yet he was barely scraping by. But he couldn't complain, all that much at least. He enjoyed his job and even if at times it was hard to earn money he wouldn't trade it for the world. He had fallen in love with photography in freshman year and decided to major in it. He had a minor in business too, something you had always told him would be useful as a backup. You were always practical like that, making sure he never completely fell over the edge. But he was hesitant to use it, because in using that minor it kinda meant he was giving up his dream. Giving in to the regular, soul crossing 9 to 5 job that everyone seemed to have. Peter was a dreamer at heart, in a way it would kill him to do anything other than photography.

He ate a spoonful of his cereal, making a face at the dull taste. Chewing, he glanced over at the stack of bills littering the counter. A lot of them were piling up, sooner or later he may have to give into the normalcy of a business job. Work had been slow lately and very boring. More often than not people hired him to take photos for their weddings or graduation, simple stuff. Stuff that had him bored out of his mind. But there were no clients currently so until he got one he had all the time in the world to himself. Which he loved at first but now it seems he was falling into a bit of a routine.

Peter aimlessly wandered around the kitchen lost in thought, his eyes drifted toward the collection of pictures pinned to his fridge. There was a picture of you on there, from before you had cut him out of your life. Peter set the bowl down on the counter and gently lifted the magnet to pull the picture off. It was a polaroid of you two, You had your arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, hugging him from behind. His hands were resting on yours, you both were smiling, teeth missing.

This picture was from the first day of first grade. Even back then Peter had had some feelings for you. And the way his eyes looked at you and not the camera was proof of this. Peter ran his thumb gently over the faded picture, for a moment he let himself wonder about how you were doing, before he snapped himself out of it. He put the picture back in its place and picked his bowl back up. It was too early to be having thoughts like that. 

Peter yawned and lazily plopped down on his worn out sofa, flipping through the channels on the tv. There was nothing on, signing he threw out the rest of his cereal, it had gotten soggy while he was busy reminiscing. He dropped the empty bowl into the sink, only adding to the collection of unwashed dishes. He glanced over at the phone and the soft blinking of the red light, indicating he had voicemails he hadn't listened to yet. He knew he was going to have to take her calls sooner or later but right now he didn't want to deal with her. 

He headed to the park and decided to do some laps on the path, running always helped him to relax and clear his head. He always got stares and shy smiles from the women that were jogging, he found out that apparently the silver hair that everyone made fun of him for was very attractive to women now. Something he used to use to his advantage to pick up the occasional hook up.

After that he went to go get groceries and then played on his pacman machine until lunchtime. He totally knew how to spend his time. He made his way over to the kitchen and looked at all the new groceries he had bought. Twinkies, instant ramen, mac and cheese, he picked up the box of lucky charms, weighing the option of eating it for lunch. He thought better of it and put it back on the shelf, he really needed to eat healthier, god knows sooner or later his metabolism was going to give out.

He picked up the phone and placed an order form the Chinese place a couple blocks away, ordering way more food than he needed. That way he wouldn't have to cook for the next few meals. Peter was inherently lazy and cooking was not something he was very good at. So when he would he just ordered takeout and leftovers so he could eat them later. He hung up the phone and walked over to the fridge and took out the milk, drinking it straight for the carton, while he was doing that he heard a loud knock on the door. “That was quick.” The knocking continued non stop over and over, “I’m coming hold on!” He yelled out as he shuffled to the door and opened it peering through the opening that the chain allowed. “You know it’s rude to-'' The words died in his throat. There was a woman standing at his door, wearing a coat over her night dress. 

*******************************************************

You hadn't been able to pay attention to the briefing your boss gave, your assistant came in about half way through and handed you a small slip of paper. She said that she had found Peter’s address like you had asked. You had pulled her into a hug, creating an awkward tension in the room. The meeting had seemed to go on forever, and for the life of you you couldn't even remember what it was about. As soon as the meeting ended you had bolted out the door, ignoring the calls of your boss and colleagues telling you that work wasn't over yet. 

You had found his apartment after randomly asking strangers in the street which way it was. You were at his door, the number on it hanging lopsided. You began to rapidly knock until the door was pulled open. “You know it’s rude to-” 

He paused as he saw you staring at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “You’re not the chinese delivery guy.” 

You felt your eyes widen as you took him in. “Peter?” You asked in a small voice. 

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. “Yeah?”

 You let out a sigh of relief, smiling. “You’re tall.” You looked him up and down. “And you’re so handsome.”

His face turned red at your words. He didn't even know who this random woman was that was standing here, telling him he was handsome. He leaned against the doorframe, taking another drink out of the carton. “I’m sorry do- do I know you?” 

He watched your face fall. “You don’t know me?” 

“No?” He said, wiping the dribbling milk off his chin. Even after all these years his mannerisms were the same. 

“Wait! “ You said rushing forward. He jumped slightly at the sudden action. “It’s me, I saw you yesterday. Well I was thirteen yesterday so I guess it wasn't yesterday. Because now i'm old and I don't know where I am-” Peter watched you ramble on and slowly began to close the door. You continued on. “But you were there at my party-”

Peter paused, squinting his eyes and looking at you closely.. “(Y/n)?” He asked hesitantly, reopening the door as much as the chain would allow. “(y/n) (y/l/n)?” You smiled wide at him. 

“Yes! Yes it’s me!” 

Peter slammed the door shut in your face. You heard him unlock all the locks on his side of the door, when he was down he swung the door open. “Hey.” he gave you a small smile. You lunged at him and tackled him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He just stood there frozen, slowly moving his free hand up to awkwardly pat you on the back. “Come in I guess.” He muttered. 

You pulled back smiling at him. Even after all this time your sweet smile could make his heart skip a beat. You looked around his small apartment taking it all in. Peter did his best to kick discarded clothes into the closet, and keep you from seeing what a mess it was. You looked along his walls to see framed pictures of portraits and beautiful landscapes. “Are you still taking pictures?” You asked,

“Uh yeah, they pay the bills.” He quickly grabbed the pile of unpaid bills, stuffing them behind the couch cushion. “Usually.” He muttered under his breath. You were pacing around his apartment, in confused circles. He nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. “Hey, (y/n) I don't wanna be rude but why are you here?” 

“Petey I told you.” You said moving closer to him, he let out a little laugh. 

“Petey wow, no one has called me that in ages.” 

“Petey listen I came here cause something really weird is happening. Yesterday was my 13th birthday and then today I woke up and I’m this!” You said gesturing to your body. Peter tried his best not to look you up and down, he couldn't deny that you had grown up well. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. “And you’re that!” You said gesturing towards him. 

Peter looked down at himself self consciously. “Gee thanks. Do I really look that bad?” 

“No!” You quickly said. You felt yourself blush as you looked him over. His hair was tousled and messy, he was wearing an oversized  pink floyd crop top and from the looks of the hem it seemed he had made it himself. You watched the veins in his hands ripple and his arms slightly flex. “Uh you,” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “You actually look really good, like really good.” 

Peter flushed at your words and turned away so you couldn't see his blushing face. “Wow.” He whispered under his breath, he lifted a hand up to his face, doing his best to hide the smile that was forming. He turned back to and regained a serious composure. “Are you sure you're okay (y/n).” He took in your mismatched outfit and broken heel. “Are you high? Have you been smoking pot? Doing drugs, cause if you are I’m not judging as long as it’s just weed or something. Cause I mean I get it, I get stressed to and every now and then need-”

“No, no.” You said shaking your head rapidly. “Wait do you do-,” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Do you do drugs Peter?” 

“No! No.” Peter shrugged. “Ehhh well not drugs, just weed.” He defended. But looking at your judgmental eyes he quickly continued on. “And I don’t, well I don’t that much any more. It was in college you know how it was.” 

“Actually I don’t.” You moved even closer to him. “Look, I was sitting in my closet, and I- I skipped everything. I can’t- I can’t remember my life.” Your eyes were watery as you started back at him. His heart ached seeing you like this. You continued on. ‘You need to help me remember my life.” 

At this he scoffed, and pretended to look around as if you were referring to someone else. “Me?” he said pointing to himself, letting out an airy laugh. “That’s rich.”

“What why?” He let out another laugh at your response, this one was dry. He looked at your face and saw that you weren’t kidding, you were serious about asking for his help.

“(Y/n) I can’t.” He was in disbelief, did you seriously have no idea what you had done to him. “I don’t know anything about you. I haven't seen you since high school.” Your face morphed into one of confusion. 

“What?” 

What he said next pained him, and he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes. “(Y/n). We’re not friends anymore.”

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. “What?”

Taglist:

@lets-imagine-fanfics @steamboat-local @weasly-twin-simp

Let me know if you want to be added!!

[heartcal]

distant; c.h. (pt. ii)

i am so happy that a lot of you liked the first part!!! the feedback i got turned me into a puddle of happiness :^D

i got requests for a part two and so i am delivering!

it is longer than the first (and than i expected it to be), and i do feel like i rushed it so story progression may be moving a bit too fast. nonetheless, i hope this mends the hearts i broke with part one! 🤪

if there are any mistakes, do not hesitate to tell me!

pairing: calum hood x reader

summary: you feel like the relationship is deteriorating because he’s gotten distant. you want to bring it up with him, but how can you when he doesn’t realize something is wrong? and why does it invoke a hurtful argument when you voice your feelings?

warnings: just some swears, that’s about it

genre: angst, fluff

wc: 3,590 words (wOw)

part one | my masterlist!

Adjusting to life without Calum is hard. Seeing the pictures on your wall and your nightstand, along with the photos on your phone, mock you. The obvious thing to do would be to delete the images on your phone and take the pictures down move on, but you cannot bring yourself to do so.

His favorite mug he used when he came over is still in the cupboard, on the highest shelf that you can’t reach, so it stays there, taunting you when you reach for your mug. The magnets he got you when he toured were still on your fridge, holding some documents and reminders. Even the pair of sunglasses he always forgot to take with him sits collecting dust next to the coffee maker.

You need to move on, but all the little things around the house that you can’t get rid of is making it hard.

Days after he walked out, you moped around your apartment. You snacked on some foods but haven’t had full meals. You’re sure your utility bills will be lower than usual this month since you only shower when you start smelling yourself (luckily you were able to work from home), and you tend to stay in your room, so you don’t use much electricity.

Your friends know about what happened – your best friend was worried about you missing their calls and social media messages and came to visit you – but no matter how hard they’ve tried, they can’t get you to come out. Outings get turned down, video or audio calls get rejected, video game invites get ignored, and invitations to visit you get thrown out. They’re worried, you know they are, but you need time to yourself.

But how long will it be before it gets too much? All this time alone could just push you further down the wallowing hole?

It’s week three now. You took some time off from work to work from home due to your state. You didn’t want your coworkers questioning your dark circles and puffy eyes, nor did you have the energy to commute. Now that some time has passed, your boss has called you back in for a meeting (which you just have to sit through and you can head back home).

It feels weird being out in public. Your relationship wasn’t ‘out there’ like the other guys, but it was known to the public. You were worried about fans coming up to you in the street alone, but with Calum, it wasn’t nerve-wracking. So now that you’re on your own, you worry that a fan will walk up to you, knowing that your relationship is over with him, you fear you’ll be chastised for breaking his heart.

After the meeting, you plan to head straight home, wanting nothing but to lay in bed snuggled into your comforter with your laptop playing a random Netflix movie. That is your plan, but it falls through when your phone starts ringing with a familiar name.

It’s Calum.

Sitting in your car, you stare at the device as it continues to ring. Do you answer it? Do you let it ring?

It’s the first time either of you tried contacting the other since the fight. You won’t lie: you did try to text Calum the next day and call him a few days later, but your finger never pressed send either time. The idea of getting ignored weighed heavily on you since it was what initiated the argument.

So with that in mind, you let it ring as you tossed it onto the passenger seat and started your car.

Your phone rang two more times on the drive home, and you ignored those as well, but once you parked in your spot outside your apartment it rang again.

You were annoyed, reaching for it to shut it off entirely, but this time, there was a new name on the screen. Ashton.

You contemplated answering the call. If you answer, you risk Calum being on the line and you’re not interested in talking to him just yet. But maybe it is Ashton, possibly calling to check on you and see how you’re doing. It can’t hurt to answer the phone.

Turning off the ignition, you answer the phone and felt relief when you heard Ashton’s voice.

“Hey,” he sighs out, and you can hear his relief mixed with worry in his tone.

“Hi, Ash,” you smile slightly.

“How have you been?” you hear him moving around as if he was sitting on the couch or in bed.

You inhale, wondering what exactly it is you should say. You cannot say that you’re doing well; it’s a lie whether or not he can see you. Saying that you’re fine would suffice since it’s not an exact ‘good,’ but it’s up on the line of lies with good.

“You know,” you exhale with a shrug of your shoulders, “just hanging in there, I guess.”

It’s silent on his end. You know he wants to say something but he’s holding back. Nerves creep up on you, fearing he’ll bring up what happened and while it’s a good thing to talk to someone, you don’t feel up for it.

“Listen-,” he starts but you cut him off.

“Ashton, if you’re going to bring up what happened a few weeks ago, don’t.”

“All I’m gonna say is, you two need to talk.”

Your eyes shut, stinging as you hold back tears. You mumble his name in an attempt to stop him from continuing, but he continues.

“I don’t know the full extent of what happened since Calum won’t open up—,” another sigh falls from him, “—but whatever did happen, you two need to fix it. Leaving things as they are right now is going to get neither of you anywhere.”

Ashton’s right. He’s absolutely right and you know it. Many questions need asking, and many have been left unanswered. If you two left things as they are right now, it’ll only make it hard to move on. You deserve closure.

“Alright,” you swallow the urge to cry, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“He’s called you today—before I did.”

“I know.”

Ashton’s silent again, and you hear more shuffling as if he’s walking around. His voice lowers, “He’s really not doing well. I don’t even recognize him; I don’t even know if this person is Calum.”

You bite your tongue, wanting to tell Ashton that Calum did this to himself, but you want to end the conversation and head inside.

“I have to go, Ash.”

He hums in response and bids you goodbye. You hang up and step out of your car, your shoulders feeling lighter hearing that Calum is doing terrible and maybe even worse than you.

Once inside your apartment, it hits you. You now have to talk to Calum (you don’t want to lie to Ashton or break a promise with him), and the atmosphere is just like it was three weeks ago.

The candle you had lit at that time has since burned out, but it still sits on the coffee table with a mocking glare from the sunset outside. The weather outside is nice: not many clouds yet the clouds that are there are reflecting the sun’s light, a light pink hue mixed with the harsh yellow.

You sit in the same spot, yet again thinking of what you should say to him.

Why did he act the way he did? Why was he so distant? Why was he dead-set on breaking your heart?

You gathered your thoughts for over an hour. You even wrote down your questions because you don’t want a repeat of last time. However, you weren’t ready to call him.

You made dinner first, wanting a distraction (and some fuel so you can stand your ground) before you had to make the call. You pushed away any intrusive thoughts, thoughts that would make you second guess calling Calum, or that would hurt you entirely. You wanted to be ready, with a strong front and both feet planted firmly on the ground.

However, your plan to call him is gone as your phone rings in the living room. You stand frozen in front of your sink, a sponge in one hand and a dish in the other, as the phone blares the annoying tone.

With a gulp, you put the items down in the sink and then dry your hands off with the tea towel hanging on the handle of the stove. You mutter words of encouragement to yourself as you approach the sound, and you can only hope you keep your resolve.

You grab your phone, and his name brings your nerves straight up. Your thumb shakes over the green button, and you know you have a couple of rings left before it goes to voicemail. You want to be the bigger person and talk to him, and you gain control over your shaky thumb and answer the call.

The phone is at your ear, and before you can give your greeting, he speaks up first.

“Hey,” he breathes out. His voice is soft, hesitant and unsure.

“Hi, Calum,” your tone mirrors his.

He stumbles over his words, not able to form a complete sentence, let alone a word. He has so many things he wants to tell you, but they slip his mind as fast as they enter.

“We need to talk—,”

“Can I come up and talk?” he cuts you off with his request that has your eyes bulging.

“What—you’re here?” you rush towards the window to see if you can look down at the parking lot, trying to find his car in disbelief.

He’s quiet, realizing how weird it was of him to show up unannounced. “Yeah,” his voice is starting to shake, “I’m here.”

Your resolve falls, a wave of emotions starts to fall over you and you bring a hand to cover your mouth.

He hears your breathing change. He knows you’re about to cry and he hates it. “Please, can I come up there? I…I want to fix this.”

Your eyes have tears threatening to spill as you stare blankly out the window. The memory of the last time Calum was here reopens the scars, but if this is going to be the way you get the closure, you’ll do it.

“Door’s unlocked,” you whisper, turning to head for the front door to unlock it.

He thanks you and hangs up, and you only have about two minutes before he’s walking through that door.

Your mind is racing with thoughts of his appearance, and how he will view you. Was Ashton telling the truth when he was describing Calum?

You wanted to prove to him that you were doing better. Your eyes dart to the photos on the wall, and immediately you start for the first one your eyes see.

It’s a photo from the first time you joined him on tour. He was ecstatic, a bright smile on his face as he holds you close to him—practically smooshed up against him—and in the background stood the others, giving a thumbs up. It was his lock screen for months.

The one to the left was a collage. It was a gift given to you and Calum from the tour you joined him entirely on. It had photos of you, of him, and you two together taken by the crew and the rest of the band. Calum had his own, and you recall seeing it hang proudly in the entryway at his place.

Every photo on your wall had a story, a fond memory, and taking them down is painful. You don’t stop the tears from falling as you take down the first two, putting them on the TV stand before reaching for more.

Replaying the memories as you take the frames off the wall, you fail to hear the knocking on the door and eventually the door opening.

Calum stands at the door, watching you take down the photos and he’s happy you don’t notice him yet. It’s a knife in the heart, and each picture you take down twists the knife.

He clears his throat and calls your name, making you jump and abruptly turn towards him. In your hands was a photo he cherished the most: you and him sitting together, on the beach, and he was staring fondly at you while you read a funny portion of the book you were reading. He told you once, that that photo was evidence of him falling for you, that you can see it happening. But with the abrupt turn, it flies out of your hands, the frame cracking and the glass shattering as it hit the edge of the coffee table.

Shit.

“Hi,” you stand shocked as you greet him. That was the last thing you wanted to do with that photo.

“Uh,” he swallows, “hi, um, do you need help?”

You shake your head fervently, “No, no, no. Well, maybe?”

He only nods as you instruct him to grab the broom near the door. He takes the attached dustpan off as you carefully lift the photo from the mess. It’s not damaged, but the sight of it is painful to look at. Placing it on the coffee table, you ask Calum for the broom and for him to hold the dustpan.

It’s silent as you clean, and it’s uncomfortable. The elephant in the room is stomping around and demanding attention. Once it’s clean, you invite him to sit down and offer a drink.

“Just some water,” he tries to offer a smile, but it fails to show.

Calum sits down as you take the dustpan to the kitchen to empty it. He looks around your living room, noting the photos you didn’t take down and the ones you did. The ones that had the most meaning were taken down, leaving odd spaces on the wall between the pictures that are still up.

He hears you coming back and he graciously takes the cup of water from your hand, taking a sip before setting it on the coaster on the coffee table.

You sit on a living chair, one that does not match the couch but you found endearing.

Calum plays with his hands while you play with a loose thread on a throw pillow from the couch.

Not wanting to sit in silence anymore, Calum speaks up, “How have you been?”

A scoff falls out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Really?” you ask, your eyes staying on the pillow, “Let’s not do the small talk, Calum.”

“Right,” he frowns, nodding his head in agreement before it falls silent again.

He has a reason for why he acted the way he did that night. It’s not the best way to approach a situation, but in his mind, that was the easiest.

“Why did you do it?”

Your voice shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks at you, and you’re actively avoiding his eyes by playing with the thread that has come off the pillow from your constant picking.

He sighs, eyes shut as he leans back. “The truth—,” he sits up straight, running his hands down his face, “—I’m sorry. The way I behaved, my actions, words…I regret every single thing.”

His eyes are on you as you slowly lift your eyes towards his. He tries to lock eyes, his pleading ones staring into your stern ones, but you look away.

He continues, “The way my mind worked that night was inexcusable. I had all these thoughts that, in hindsight, weren’t good. But at that time, it was easier for me. I felt that if I hurt you enough, you’d dump me and move on. But I couldn’t bear hearing you say those words, so I did it myself.”

“You’re still not answering the question,” you strain, eyes lifting from the frameless photo on the coffee table to his red ones, “why, Calum?”

The need to lock eyes disappears from him. It pains him, hearing the emotion in your tone and seeing your puffy eyes.

“Calum, you said some pretty hurtful things. You said I was clingy—,”

“I didn’t mean it—,” he cuts you off but you jump right back in.

“I’m not done!” you stand, tossing the pillow onto the chair, “You said I was clingy, said I was overreacting when I was worried about our relationship and ended things instead of talking to me.”

“I—,” he stutters, bring fists to his eyes to stop the onslaught of tears, “—You deserve better.”

“Even if I do, Calum, I want you. Just you.”

His tears slip through and a sob escapes him. His emotions come crashing down with no control over them.

You kneel in front of him, gently grabbing his arms to move his hands away from his face. He doesn’t budge, rather he uses his strength to keep his arms from moving. You sighed, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

He shakes his head, a sniffle and a hiccup coming from him as he tries to compose himself.

You want to hug him, knowing that when he gets like this he shuts everyone out. You stand, moving to sit next to him but keeping a safe distance, just enough to rub his back. “Please,” you whisper, “open up.”

He begins to steady his breathing, relaxing as you rub his back. He sniffles a few more times before taking a deep breath, slowly moving his hands away from his face.

“In my mind,” he starts, his voice raspy and just above a whisper, “I thought that me being gone a lot wasn’t fair for you. You either stay at home and wait for me, or you have to take time off work or be able to work from home; I know it takes a lot out of you. I thought you deserved someone who was always here for you, who wasn’t constantly away because it was their job. I was a dick because I wanted you to hate me so the break-up wouldn’t be hard for you.”

“You’re so stupid,” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Calum,” you sigh, leaning back into the couch but keeping your hand on his back, “you’re so selfish. Why did you think that? I want to make decisions in this relationship.”

He sniffles again, biting his lip as he nods his head in understanding.

“You need to be open with me—talk to me, Cal,” you scoot closer to him, your hand moving from his back to his shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze.

He leans into your touch, “I didn’t want to break-up. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought that it was what’s best.”

“You were so distant,” you mention, and he turns to look at you, grabbing your free hand with both of his.

“I know I’m distant after tour,” his eyes bore into yours as you bring the hand on his shoulder to land on top of his, “I feel drained and I am so appreciative that you give me space. But during this past tour, I—I just couldn’t face the fact that you’re alone and wait for me. I love you, so much, but I thought someone else can love you more than I can.”

You swallow a sob and lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you close, his head nestling in between your neck and shoulder as he released more tears. He mumbles multiple apologies into your neck, fisting your shirt in his hands.

You stay holding each other for a while, relishing in each other’s company. Once he’s calmed down enough, he pulls away and holds your face in his hands, wiping away the tear stains and remaining tears.

“I don’t want this relationship to end.”

“I don’t either,” you agree as you rest your hands atop his.

“Will you take me back?” he asks, his red, puffy eyes now devoid of sorrow, rather holding hope.

“As long as you promise to talk to me about how you feel,” you lean your forehead against his with a smile, “if you can promise me that, then yes.”

He mirrors your smile, closing his eyes and moving to touch his lips with yours.

You smile into the kiss and pull away to give him another hug.

“One more thing,” your tone is light as you pull away.

“What’s that?”

“Your shoes—,” you point down at his feet, “—need to be off in here.”

He looks down at his feet and chuckles, “Sorry about that,” he stands and heads to the front door, removing his sneakers before making his way back to you.

You open your arms and he gladly lays into them, the two you spooning on the couch.

“I mean it,” he whispers into your chest, “I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry about the picture,” your apologetic tone makes him lift his head and he looks to where your thumb is pointing.

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry, I know you didn’t mean it.”

You nod, bringing your hand to his head, running it lightly through his hair as you begin to drift off to sleep.

Calum hears your heartbeat slow down, and all the worry from the past three weeks seem to dissipate. He knows all the things he said are going to be hard to forget, and he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you if it means he can be yours.

[omar-rudeberg]

tag nine two people you want to know better

ta for the tags my lovelies (@zealousfansstuff @grizviser @ungaroyals @lovelierbitsoflife @royalwilmon @purplehoodiesimon @violapinkbaby @starsabovetheunderground @wilhelm-eriksson) 

i’m doing the original q’s as well as the new & improved tag at the same time so they both actually happen lol

favourite colour: favourite colours*

currently reading: currently up to harry potter & the order of the phoenix in my listening through the harry potter audio books for the first time. (it’s twenty-nine hours i’m struggling a little but we’re getting there!) also halfway through reading the published version of my favourite fanfiction of all time the fifth postulate: a sherlock holmes story by lt brady (don’t you dare @ me). also also i have a bookmark in trickster’s queen by tamora pierce which i have started and not finished so many times but one of these days i will i promise. also also also this is all around reading so many words of @ungaroyals works-in progress to help beta / co-write her brilliant world(s) (we��re not taking questions at this time *side eye emoji*)

last series: literally young royals - the whole thing in an evening after work a few nights ago I’m so done for with that goddamn show

last song: ... saying so would give away too much for the next (english version) so my lips are sealed hehe

last movie: pride & prejudice! comfort movie! kiera knightly supremacy! dario marianelli’s score deserves a universe of praise!

sweet, savoury or spicy: am a sweet tooth

currently working on: oh god so much. so so much. (irl work’s pretty stress-free generally, so not much there.) fandom-wise i have like four fics on the go + beta / co-writing stuff + another song in the works + analysis posts + i’ve started annoying the gc with video edits so you may see those soon too someone get me a colour-coded planner so i actually finish some of these projects please

favourite clothing item: scarves. wilhelm and i need to have a talk about scarves.

comfort food: mum’s lamb curry, roti & tomato chutney

favourite time of year: winter !! see aforementioned love of scarves. (aussie summers kick you in the gosh darn gut with their heat and oppressive evenings, no thanks no sir.)

favourite song of all time: (don’t make me. don’t. i can’t. i’ll take back this answer as soon as it’s posted i can tell.) i guess, okay, this one’s been under my skin for a while now - elmira by canadian folk trio the east pointers.

if you don’t yet know, you’ll soon learn my love language is alt-folk indie fiddle music a la the rest of this album.

do you collect anything: magnets! from places i’ve been, things i’ve seen, places loved ones have been, literally anything. it will surprise no one that they’re arranged colour-coded on my fridge.

favourite drink: dad’s home-made ginger chai

favourite fic: ooft. o o f t. i don’t know how to introduce the wide range of this answer that will out me in so many ways but i’m waving goodbye to my reputation and i’m just going to do it because i don’t think i’ve ever listed these out like this anywhere, so. if you understand where i’m coming from with any of these please let me know and kan vi snacka?

the someone like you series (glee | klaine) was my first love and the world-building and oc’s so marvellous i still go back to it all the time. a change in the weather & fan-sequel a drop in the ocean (glee | kurtbastian) come in #1 for my glee days though for SURE. wild and unruly (1d | larry) introduced me to the cathartic nature of emotional cow-births no i will not explain if you know you know. wrap me up in daisy chains & sequel rose garden dreams (1d | fem!larry - think the author’s taken them down now i can’t find a link) turned me gay so they make the list too.

my #1 though is the faithful compass series by keeliethompson1 (bbc sherlock | johnlock). the author’s taken down the fic version to publish the original story^ i’m reading but the fic’s just... better. i can’t even explain it it’s just the most insightful prequel / canon-weaving, dramatic but not overly so, narratively cohesive, well written story i’ve read maybe ever.

i’m still finding a yr fic to be the loml but we’ll get there, don’t worry. 

tagging @pineplaipptles & @quiet-mask-of-uncertainty​ who became my first friends when i dipped my toes back into tumblr four months ago (thank you)

[amispnrewatch]

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

[yespolkadotkitty]

PLEASE pluck Ricky from obscurity like you did Zach!!!

Right so you are all fairly keen on this guy because I also got these:

Pick You Up

Ricky Hauk x reader

Word count: 1700 ~ Warnings: None really. Light angst. Kissing.

Lovely gif by @ithinkwehitametaphor

i

You’ve not lived in this town long. The first time you use the gas station, the tall, skinny guy behind the counter glances at you from under his ball cap, the red brim only serving to bring out the slices of amber in his soulful brown eyes. There’s a crease in his cupid’s bow, the thumb print of a God proud of his work. He rings up your service, gives you a collection time.

When you park up back at home, you see it. A note under your unused windscreen wiper.

Autumn in her eyes

Her hair ropes of burnished gold,

Kissed by corners of the

Falling leaves. Will seasons pass

Before I look upon her

Once more?

ii 

The poem was from him. You know it. You know it because the next time you bring your car back, when winter’s starting to bite chunks out of the temperature, you see him write something on your receipt in the same loopy scrawl. He sees you looking. Ricky is embroidered on his navy blue overalls. A flush creeps up his cheeks, and you wonder how old he is. Twenty? You could cry over his perfect cheekbones. 

“It should be more than that?” you ask when he rings you up.

The corner of his mouth curves up. “Returning customer discount. No one will miss a few quarts of gas.”

There’s a worn, tattered book propping up a wonky corner of the cash register. A Poem for Every Day of the Year.

And when you arrive home, there’s another scrap of paper under your windscreen wiper.

Winter’s grasp is far-reaching

Fingers dug in tight

But footprints thaw frozen ground,

A smile melts frostbite

Inch by Inch

You fold the paper carefully, tuck it under a magnet on your fridge, next to the one you already have. Wonder what it means. If he writes poetry for all his customers.

iii 

Before Winter ends, your exhaust pipe crashes off the end of your car and you narrowly miss swerving off the road in shock at the huge bang it makes. You drive right to the service station, and like a dream, there he is, the huge roller door of the workshop open, and he’s bent over another car, his ball cap on backwards, overalls half-unzipped. Heat is pumping out of the workshop interior and you park your car. As you shut the door, Ricky looks up, and his face goes slack for a second, before he plasters a polite query on the handsome canvas. “Uh, hey. Can I help you?”

“Exhaust pipe fell off on the highway,” you sigh. “I know she’s a hunk of junk, but I just can’t afford to replace her, not yet.”

“I’ll give it my best shot.” Ricky holds out his hand for the keys, a smear of grease on his thumb, and you stare at his palm for a moment, wondering what his hands would feel like on your skin. If he’d leave a fingerprint of grease behind.

You wouldn’t mind much, if he did.

iv

You have to leave the car overnight, eventually. Ricky comes into the tiny office with the noisy watercooler and tiny wall-mounted TV that only shows one God-awful news channel. His hands are shoved into his overall pockets and there’s a streak of engine grease on his cheek.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but she’s gonna have to stay in until tomorrow. My boss has gotta check the weld, and he’s stuck in the snowstorm one state over.”

“Okay.” You’re not cross with him. What would be the point?

Ricky looks from the clock to you. He probably has a hot date you’re keeping him from, you think with a little sadness. “Um, I’ve gotta lock up now. I can drive you home. If you want.” He jerks his thumb at the window to his right. A beaten up red truck sits outside.

“Thank you. That’d be great.”

The snow has started to fall in earnest. Ricky locks up the gas station and pockets the keys as the shutter finally closes up tight. He opens the passenger door for you, waits until you’re safely strapped in before he gets in on his side and starts the engine. “You’ll have to direct me.” He tugs off the ball cap and stuffs it in the glove box.

“Wait,” you say, as his hand hovers over the stick.

He glances at you with an eyebrow raised, that poet’s mouth set solemnly, his tiger iron eyes so large in his face, larger somehow with his thick hair sticking up at all angles, and he looks so young but like he has an old soul. Like he’s seen so much; too much, and he is so tired.

“Why did you write me those poems?”

Ricky looks away, chewing his bottom lip.

“You did, didn’t you?”

“So what?” he throws back, still not looking at you. “I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you wanna hear?”

Your heart cracks down the middle. “No, it isn’t. They were beautiful. I kept them.”

His gaze shoots to yours. “You are beautiful,” he says, very soberly. 

And you lift your hand to his cheek and then he’s kissing you, earnestly, his lips soft and sweet and unpracticed. Not that you’re experienced, but you estimate yourself as perhaps half a decade older than him. He groans into your mouth and desire skitters through you. You part your lips for him and he finally touches you, just a hand on your thigh, his palm warm through your worn, old jeans.

The drive to your house is full of thick, syrupy tension. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way Ricky subtly adjusts himself during the ten minute trip.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to help him out with that.

He parks outside your building, and you kiss him again before you leave, nipping at his tempting lower lip, making him curse, low and sweet in that sinful, husky voice, still a little thready with youth.

“I’ll work on your car first thing tomorrow?” he half asks, half informs you, as you open the passenger door. The cold wind arcs in, biting at your skin. “I could pick you up. Early. If you want.”

You nod. “Okay. Thanks.”

Ricky catches your hand, tangles your fingers. “Guys like me write poetry about girls like you because it’s the only way we’ll be with you,” he mutters, and there’s something so sad and resigned in the depths of his butterscotch gaze.

You don’t know what to say, and if you kiss him again you run the serious risk of being arrested for indecent behaviour in his truck.

v

He’s early the next morning. You’re not ready. 

“Come up,” you say through the buzzer, and in a matter of moments you’re opening your apartment door to him. He holds the service station ball cap in his hands, wringing it nervously, and his overalls are half-unzipped to reveal a plain white t-shirt. He smells of cheap cologne and minty toothpaste, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Want a coffee?” you ask. “I’ll be five minutes.”

“No, thanks. Uh, I’m fine.” He stands by the door, like he needs permission to sit down. 

You rush around, calling your boss to remind him about your car situation. He’s stuck at home anyway due to a snowdrift, so he doesn’t chew you out.

Pulling on your winter boots - hopefully they’ll see you through to March - you step out of the bedroom. Ricky’s leaning over your kitchen counter, scrawling something on a post-it note. He jerks up, guilt sketched on his angular face.

“Sorry.”

“Not at all.”

He folds the paper over. “Don’t read it.. Til later.”

He turns to face you, hesitates, wariness and want and need laid bare in those gorgeous hazelnut eyes.

“Could I… kiss you? Maybe?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, and Ricky cups your face in his broad, callused hands, and lowers his mouth to yours, and the kiss starts soft and sweet, explorative, and then you slide your hands up his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his thick, tattered-silk hair, and he backs you into the wall, his lips urgent on yours, licking into your mouth, and you drink him in like you’re starved for the taste of him. He groans against your lips, one hand slipping down your back to palm your ass, and-

And your phone rings shrilly from your bag. Your work mobile.

You and Ricky spring apart. 

“I’d better get that.”

It turns out to be a shitty sales call, but the moment’s been broken. You mostly manage to ignore the distended shape of Ricky’s jeans, but his face is red the whole drive to the garage.

When you arrive, a man who you guess to be Ricky’s boss is already there, opening the shutter. Ricky turns to you, his hand hesitant on your thigh. “Maybe…. Maybe you’d wanna see me again? 

You cover his hand with yours, link your fingers. “I’d love to see you again, Ricky.”

His smile lights up the dreary winter day.

*****

Special thanks to @dornish-queen without whose watchlist, this fic would never have happened.

Tagging the Pedro pals! @gamingaquarius @a-seeker-of-imagination @songsformonkeys @alldatalost @dornish-queen @lackofhonor @alienprincesspoop @beccaplaying @cryptkeepersoul @keeper0fthestars @winters-buck @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @jaime1110 @nelba @heatherbel @thewayofthemandalorian @agirllovespasta @seawhisperer @holographic-carmen @mrschiltoncat @mourningbirds1 @emmy-dandiliom918 @trippedmetaldetector @starlight-starwrites @oloreaa @thegreenkid @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @buckstaposition @pedropascallion @pajamasecrets @knittingqueen13 @skdubbs @opheliaelysia

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: Pt 37 - Rough

“You want me to lie down on my back and spread my legs and let you fuck me until you cum in me like a good little girl, huh?” she continues. There is a wildness, an unconstrained craziness in her eyes.

You want to say something, want to snap back and tell her that you were more than willing and plenty able to do more than just that; but her hand pumping up and down your stiff cock, and the wild look in those eyes, has you incapable of coming up with the right words. Your cock begins to leak pre-cum, and she spreads it over your weeping slit and sensitive head, eliciting a soft moan from your lips that you do your best to stifle.

Seulgi sees this - sees that she has the upper hand - and the devious smile on her lips widens.

Seulgi grabs you by the cock and pulls you towards the bed - something that would have been painful were it not so fucking hot; the promise of sex with such a wild partner was an effective painkiller, it seemed.

Placing both hands flat against your chest, she pushes you down onto the old, small bed. She quickly undoes the button and zipper of her denim shorts, and strips it off her hips. Her short crop top soon follows it to the bedroom floor, and suddenly Kang Seulgi is naked in front of you, her slim, toned body tensed and ready to pounce.

“Too bad I’m not a good little girl,” she hisses, before climbing onto the bed, straddling your head with her thighs, and sitting on your face.

---

“So this is it, huh?”

“This is it,” Kang Seulgi repeats as she takes the first few steps into the apartment, reaching out to the wall to flick the lights on. Most of the furniture in the small, nondescript unit was covered with white sheets, although here and there an odd appliance or decoration was left uncovered to gather a layer of dust. The sheets and dusty atmosphere meant it was unlikely anyone had been there in awhile.

“I’d expected SM staff to be able to afford better housing,” you admit. The apartment was modest at best, being on a middle floor in a lower-middle class neighborhood of Seoul. It was far from being an unlivable place, but it was still a ways removed from the hyper modern, massive apartment buildings that dominated most of Seoul’s hipper, newer neighborhoods.

Momo and her team had picked you up from the JYP offices about an hour before; the other girls were doing some scouting and recon of the premises ahead of Seulgi’s meeting with Irene, which was scheduled for the next day. You’d volunteered to scout out Red Velvet’s old apartment with Seulgi, where the actual meeting was going to happen.

“This was all we could afford when we started out,” Seulgi replies, “when we were just paper pushers at SM. Before Red Velvet was even a thing.”

Seulgi reaches out to the refrigerator, which still had polaroids, takeout menus, and other miscellaneous junk attached onto its front door with magnets and scotch tape. Her eyes, normally cold and aloof, are far away, lost in thought and memories of days gone by. She plays idly with the edges of a series of polaroids - and though you were too far to see the subject of the photos, you knew it had to be the members of Red Velvet in their younger, more carefree days.

“When we started living here we decided as a team that we would each take turns cooking. We didn’t have a lot of money and we figured cooking our own food would save us a few won here and there,” she says with the hint of a smile on her lips, “but it turned out none of us could cook. Joy almost burnt this place down a couple of times. We ended up just taking turns ordering delivery.”

Her fingertips trace the corner of a well-worn delivery menu held to the door with a magnet. She touches the magnet briefly, as though she were reliving a moment that might have happened years ago, when she’d grab the menu off the fridge and ask the girls what they wanted to eat. But reality soon sets in for the suddenly sombre girl, and with heavy steps she leaves the kitchen.

She flicks on another set of lights, revealing the relatively small living room. An old, small flatscreen TV sat on a simple wooden stand against one wall, with a cheap fabric couch opposite it covered in white sheets.

“Only two of us could fit on the couch at once, so the other two had to sit on the floor. We took turns,” she explained, as if reading your mind. There must have been a lot of sharing going on - the apartment might have been cramped for two occupants, let alone four young women.

“Only one tiny little bathroom, too,” she continued. “Man, the fights that we had over who was taking too long in there…”

You are happy to let Seulgi reminisce about better days for a moment. This was the first time you’d spent any length of time alone with her, and you didn’t mind learning more about Red Velvet and how they began.

“Irene would shout at us if we were taking too long,” she continues, her tone wistful, “sometimes she would bang on the bathroom door so loud we’d get complaints from the neighbors.”

You are hesitant to broach the topic of Irene, given the noticeable thawing of Seulgi’s usually icy exterior since you’d arrived at the apartment. You were thankful it was Seulgi who brought her up.

“So the bitchiness started early,” you state.

Seulgi smirks. “At the time, yeah, we thought she was a bit of a bitch. But we couldn’t deny that she was driven, and that she wanted to go places. It was her that had the idea of forming Red Velvet - of working together as a team to make something of ourselves at SM. She was a bitch, but she could be a real leader, too. I suppose her bitchiness is also what made her so successful.”

“So how exactly did you four meet?”

“The four of us started at Red Velvet at the same time - we were recruited right out of university. We met at the SM orientation, and when we learned that we would be working in the same division we decided, hey, we may as well live together.”

Seulgi steps over to a bookcase filled with framed photos, old books, and other keepsakes collected by young people in the prime of their youth. Her hands reach out to graze its simple wooden frame, her eyes drifting from one item to another on its shelves and reliving a memory with each one. She doesn’t touch any of the photos or other things on the shelf, as if she were afraid of what would happen if she did.

“We started off just pushing paper. But one day Irene was promoted to be the executive assistant of some middle management type dude at SM. He was a bit of a perv - always hitting on her and shit, touching her like she was his girlfriend. Anyway, one day he was assigned to go to this convention in Europe and scope out what the competition was doing, and then report back. Irene went with him. Guy was drunk as fuck the whole time, treating it as a company paid vacation.”

Seulgi’s gaze finally settles on a framed picture, and with hands that appeared almost nervous, she reaches out and picks it up off the shelf with a delicacy that you didn’t know she was capable of. Her slim fingers play gently along its frame, as though she were handling some precious, fragile artifact.

“Irene ended doing all the work. And what’s more, she ended up getting some pretty juicy info on a competitor; info we ended up using to… convince them to sell us their tech.”

“So the blackmailing started early, too,” you say under your breath. Seulgi smirks.

“We prefer the term ‘corporate espionage,’” she says with a sly smile on her lips. “Irene was promoted for her work. The dude was demoted to the dungeons of SM where he fucking belonged. Irene took us with her, and soon we were climbing the ladder at SM.”

“Surely you were paid enough to buy nicer digs.”

“Yes,” Seulgi admits, “but we always kept this place. It was like a hideout for us, almost. We got up to some pretty shady stuff in our line of work. But we’d always come back to this place to relax, hang out, and just be girls again. No one knew about this place but us. It felt safe. It kept us grounded. It kept us together.”

“So what happened, then?” you ask, satisfied that now was the time to bring up the YG incident, “what happened on that day, Seulgi?”

Even without asking, the young woman knows what day you mean. She puts the picture back on the shelf and lets out a sigh; you experience a pang of regret as she does so, knowing that you were probably bringing up some bad memories. Seulgi takes a few deep breaths to compose herself. 

When she begins to speak she’s still turned away from you, moving from the bookshelf to stare out the window of the living room, towards the skyline of downtown Seoul in the distance.

“YG was our biggest competitor back in the day, as I’m sure you know. Wendy and Yeri were assigned a few operations to try and get dirt on them. But they never had any luck. Soon enough SM brass decided to give the assignment to Irene. Irene, of course - she didn’t waste any time. Before a month was out she had already established a relationship with YG’s CEO. More than that - she had him wrapped around her finger.”

“Damn,” you say, impressed.

“Anyway, her mission was to get the dirt on YG’s R&D division - they went under the codename Blackpink. She used her relationship with the CEO to dig up everything she could. But the more she found out about Blackpink, the more passionate she became about bringing YG down.”

“What did she find?”

“She wouldn’t tell us,” Seulgi says with a soft shake of her head, “she kept everything to herself at her own insistence. We usually shared everything we knew with each other, but this was different. She said it was because she didn’t want us to be in danger in case YG retaliated. She wanted to give us plausible deniability, I guess. Yeri thinks that by not telling us anything, she was trying to protect us. But I don’t believe that.”

“What do you think it was?” you ask, sitting down on the covered couch.

“I’m not entirely sure. I just know she must have had a reason for not telling us what she found. Either way, one day she came to us and proposed we infiltrate YG HQ. Apparently there was something there that we couldn’t retrieve via hacking. It had to be done the old school way, as I’m sure you’re familiar with,” Seulgi says with a smile, turning her head slightly in your direction. 

“A little too familiar,” you answer, knowing she was referring to the near disaster of Nayeon’s infiltration of SM.

“So we went and got pretty deep into YG HQ. We expected that we’d be doing some hacking into a secure mainframe or server and retrieving some confidential company data. Instead what we did was break four girls out of a goddamn dungeon.”

“What?”

“It turns out the whole thing was a rescue mission. The Blackpink girls were the target. No one knew this except Irene, of course, so you can imagine that when she told us we had to get these four girls to safety, we kind of freaked out. Wendy - she was Irene’s second, back in the day - she almost wanted to walk out on the whole thing and take the other two of us with her. But Irene convinced us that we had to get out with the girls - so we did. She was our leader. We trusted she was doing the right thing.”

“Except you didn’t all get out,” you say, realizing even as you said the words that you could have been more considerate with your choice of words.

“No, we didn’t,” Seulgi says, her voice dropping slightly. The girl takes a few deep breaths to compose herself, her hands bracing her weight against the windowsill. She had always seemed so tough and confident, but to see her vulnerability now made you feel bad for even bringing up the subject. Her very posture had changed; she was usually so proud and haughty, and now she seemed small and defenseless.

“You saw the tapes. You know what happened. YG captured Yeri and I on the way out. Irene took the girls and ran. Yeri and I… YG fucked us up.”

“Seulgi…” you say, not quite knowing how to best comfort her.

“Whatever. That doesn’t matter now. A few months later Yeri and I escaped that hellhole. And now all I want to know is why I had to go through that. I want to know why Irene left us there to die. And I’m going to ask her that tomorrow.”

A few seconds pass in silence as you digest Seulgi’s story. You’d known that Irene had left her and Yeri behind during the YG incident, but that was the extent of your knowledge. Learning the history of Red Velvet right from the source had given you some much needed context. 

“I’m sorry, Seulgi. It must have been terrible.”

Seulgi lets out a dark chuckle, as though she’d just heard a joke.

“Terrible is a vast understatement,” she says, “it was the worst few months of my life. But what they did to us physically - it didn’t matter. I healed. It was the betrayal that hurt the most. The relationship we’d built here, in this very room - to have it thrown away like that; that’s what really hurt me.”

Seconds pass in silence.

“It’s one thing to have your boss betray you,” Seulgi says with a wavering voice, “it’s another thing to have someone you’re in love with do the same.”

You are surprised somewhat at Seulgi’s confession. You’d known she’d had some sort of physical relationship with Yeri, and that their shared experience at YG had likely made them close, but you’d had no idea she’d had any sort of feelings towards Irene.

“What, you’re surprised?” Seulgi asks, a mocking tone in her voice and a sly smile on her lips as she finally turns around to face you. Her soft, sad eyes belay the cold, detached persona she was trying to return to. “Are you really surprised though, considering what Yeri and I did in front of you at the coffee shop last week?”

“No, that doesn’t surprise me. I just had no idea you and Irene-”

“Whatever, it’s in the past,” Seulgi snaps, “It doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now is bringing her down. Who I fuck takes a backseat to that.”

“I suppose,” you say with a nod.

“Anyway, the bedroom’s that way. Come on then,” she says, stepping away from the windowsill to take you by the wrist and drag you towards a closed door.

“Uh, what?” you stammer as you are dragged from your seat.

“All this talk of the past has me all sad and shit, and I need a pick me up. Besides, you owe me one from the coffee shop. Oh, and you should know - this is going to be rough. I hope you’re not a pussy.”

---

Seulgi was right - it was rough.

From the moment she dragged you into the bedroom it was a bit like being caught up in a storm; one that pushed you around, one that hit you, one that caused you occasional pain. But instead of giving into her anger you found yourself wanting to fight back - wanting to show here you weren’t going to be pushed around. This was a wild animal you wanted to tame, a storm you wanted to weather.

As you cross the doorframe of the bedroom Seulgi grabs you by the collar of your shirt and quite literally shoves you up against the bedroom wall, rattling the walls and causing a few of the items on the nearby cabinet to fall over. Before you have a chance to react she is on you like a cat, quickly crushing your lips with her own before her tongue quickly invades your mouth. She tastes like mint - sweet, but with an underlying sharpness.

As you make out her hands find your collar again and she tears it open - sending buttons flying to the floor with small clinks. She tears her lips from yours momentarily as she forcefully undresses you. There is a hunger in her eyes as she takes in your newly exposed chest, like a predator salivating at the prospect of delicious prey.

Her lips return to yours in a torrid kiss; her hands quickly strip the torn shirt from your torso, and you are happy to help her remove it from your arms. You aren’t one to let her just get away with something like that, though; you want to fight back, want to show her that this wasn’t just a one way street - and so you grasp the light pink jacket she is wearing and pull it down her shoulders, leaving her in a short crop top and denim shorts.. 

As soon as Seulgi divests herself of the jacket she slaps you - across the cheek. You’d been slapped before, of course, even a couple of times during sex - but never that hard. It stung. She wasn’t holding back.

“Every piece of clothing you take off me gets a fucking slap,” she hisses. There is a wildness in her eyes that both scared you and intrigued you.

“Then I guess I owe you a slap for my fucking shirt,” you snap.

“Then do it! Fucking slap me. I want you to. I want it to hurt.”

“...I’m not gonna fucking slap you, Seulgi.”

“Because you’re a fucking pussy? I fucking knew it. I fucking knew you were a-”

She is silenced mid sentence by your open palm; even before you realized what you were doing, you’d hit her across the face. You are momentarily frozen by your own actions - you’d never hit a girl’s face before - but the crazy glint in Seulgi’s eyes, and the wild smile on those lips, meant that your slap not only didn’t piss her off - it turned her on.

Her hands reach for your jeans, fingers working quickly, almost frenzied in her desire to undress you. As soon as she undoes your belt she pulls them down, hooking her thumbs in your boxers and dragging them down along with your pants, leaving you naked. She takes a moment to admire your newly stiff cock as it springs free from its cotton prison.

“I see now why you have all those fuck toys in your office,” Seulgi says, licking her lips as though she were about to dive into a delicious looking meal, “and why Momo is always so fucking wet around you.”

“Maybe you should find out first hand,” you snap back.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seulgi hisses, reaching down and grasping your stiff shaft. The skin of her fingers and palm are soft and warm, but her movements are rough and frenzied as she begins to stroke you up and down - you let a soft sigh escape your lips at the first spikes of pleasure, although you do your best to keep from doing any more than that. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“You want me to lie down on my back and spread my legs and let you fuck me until you cum in me like a good little girl, huh?” she continues. There is a wildness, an unconstrained craziness in her eyes.

You want to say something, want to snap back and tell her that you were more than willing and plenty able to do more than just that; but her hand pumping up and down your stiff cock, and the wild look in those eyes, has you incapable of coming up with the right words. Your cock begins to leak pre-cum, and she spreads it over your weeping slit and sensitive head, eliciting a soft moan from your lips that you do your best to stifle.

Seulgi sees this - sees that she has the upper hand - and the devious smile on her lips widens.

Seulgi grabs you by the cock and pulls you towards the bed - something that would have been painful were it not so fucking hot; the promise of sex with such a wild partner was an effective painkiller, it seemed.

Placing both hands flat against your chest, she pushes you down onto the old, small bed. She quickly undoes the button and zipper of her denim shorts, and strips it off her hips. Her short crop top soon follows it to the bedroom floor, and suddenly Kang Seulgi is naked in front of you, her slim, toned body tensed and ready to pounce.

“Too bad I’m not a good little girl,” she hisses, before climbing onto the bed, straddling your head with her thighs, and sitting on your face.

It must have been only a few minutes since she’d pulled you into the bedroom, and already she was almost too much to handle. With the other girls there was at least some preamble, a healthy amount of foreplay, or both; with Seulgi there was none of that. A quick, torrid kiss, a stripping of clothing, and now your face was between her legs.

Your determination to fight back returns, having been lent strength by the fact that she no longer literally had your cock in her hands. And so you quickly dive into Seulgi’s slick, juicy pussy, darting out your tongue and giving her a slow, hard lick from the bottom of her opening to the top, delighting in the taste of her wet flesh. Seulgi quivers at this first lick, although she quickly settles down - evidently she was fighting the same battle you were, neither of you willing to show the other that they had the upper hand.

Her right hand reaches down to your scalp, her fingers digging into your skull.

“Stop fucking around and eat my pussy,” she orders, her tone sharp, although you notice, to your satisfaction, that her eyes have softened due to the pleasure of that first, quick taste.

You smile to yourself as you dive back in, your tongue darting out and giving her another broad lick, this time swirling your tip around the top of her opening, searching for and quickly finding the stiff little bud that is at the centre of her pleasure. Seulgi quivers slightly at this first contact between your tongue and her clit.

You are determined to not give her what she wanted - and it was clear what she wanted was a quick orgasm. So instead of returning to her aching clit you dive deep into her opening, pressing your face against her hot heat, penetrating her as much as you could with your tongue. You drink in Seulgi’s slick juices as they flow freely into your mouth, delighting in her bittersweet taste as you eat the writhing young girl riding your face. The moans that leave Seulgi’s pursed lips become a little louder with each dive into her depths, and the quivering of her soft thighs around your face become a little stronger as the young woman slowly, gradually loses control.

For a few delicious seconds you tongue fuck her, thrusting your tongue in and out of her opening, swirling your tip around with each entry and exit, savoring the taste of her body like some delicious meal. Her fingers dig deeper into your scalp as she continues to grind her crotch against your face, the pain in your skull and the delicious taste of her pussy mixing into a heady cocktail that quickly intoxicates you.

“Fucking… fucking make me cum.. Oh! Make me cum already,” she hisses.

You are unable to answer her with words, your mouth filled with her pussy as it was, and so you answer with action. You bring your hands up, cupping and squeezing her toned, round ass from behind, pressing her crotch closer and deeper against your face. Giving her pussy one more lick and driving your tongue as deep inside her as it could go one last time, you finally move upwards to her needy clit.

Seulgi’s reaction is instant, having been driven to the edge by the tongue fucking you were giving her. When you capture her bud between your lips and swirl the tip of your tongue around it she cums almost immediately, her body going rigid for a split second before becoming a pile of jelly, the pleasure taking the young woman by surprise as her body succumbs. Her mouth is frozen in an open “o” for a few seconds as the first wave of her orgasm crashes against her, but soon she lets a long, drawn out moan escape her lips as she rides it out, enjoying every crest of pleasure that hits her.

She is gyrating her hips as she cums, grinding her wet, drenched, hot crotch against your face for a few beautiful seconds. It’s almost difficult to breathe, your mouth or your nose or both covered in her wet, hot flesh. You are clutching her ass in an attempt to hold her down, doing your best to lap up the plentiful juices leaving her slick opening, drinking up Seulgi like she were a fountain and you hadn’t drunk in days.

When Seulgi finally comes down from her high and releases your head from between her wet thighs, you are almost upset when her pussy leaves your face. You lick your lips, gathering her juices from the mess she’d made on your mouth and chin.

When you lock eyes again her face is wild - flushed with her orgasm, but still undiminished in that intimidating craziness that had taken her over.

She slides her body down, dipping her head and kissing you roughly, tasting herself on your tongue as your mouths lock in frenzied battle once more. To Seulgi, kissing was not a show or display of affection - it was a battle, a display of dominance.

“Not fucking bad,” she admits when she finally breaks the kiss, “now let’s see how you fuck.”

You were surprised at her lack of foreplay, lack of build up before she forced you to eat her out - but you were still expecting some sort of lead up to actual sex. But you should have known better by now, should have known that Seulgi wasn’t that type of girl.

In the space of a couple of seconds, Seulgi moves her body down until she is straddling your waist, and after reaching down to point your aching tip at her slick, dripping pussy, she takes you inside her and begins to ride you.

No build up, no slow gradual rise in pace or tempo - soon she is riding you hard, as though she were atop some bucking wild horse in some sort of race to a finish line only she could see. Her pussy is tight and wet and slick and hot and every possible adjective you could possibly use to describe the pleasurable feeling of her body - and it took you all at once, the sensations hitting you all at the same time, like a tsunami hitting the unprepared coastline of your brain.

It is all you could do to hold on to her bucking hips as she throws herself again and again into your cock, taking you in and out of her body at a pace that held no regard for your pleasure or even your comfort - all she wanted was to get off, and you were the tool she was going to use to get to her destination.

“Mmmm…. Argh! Fuck! Fuck, yes… Mmm... !!”

Even the sounds she made were different; aside from the odd pleasurable moan or hissed profanity, she sounded like she were searching for something, or working away at a project. The other girls sat back and let themselves come across the pleasure they were searching for; for Seulgi it was as though she were actively searching for it, looking for it amidst the sensations and pleasures emanating from between your bodies.

It took you longer than you cared to admit, but eventually you are able to at least get used to the torrid pace Seulgi has set as she rides you roughly on the creaking, protesting bed. She clutches the headboard above you, and as she does so it finally gives you a good look at her slim, svelte form, all tight muscle and lean limbs, her abs tight and sculpted, her small breasts tipped with delicious looking nipples stiff with pleasure. 

Above it all, though, was that face of hers - surely capable of much beauty and grace, but now twisted in wild abandon, the craziness of her need and lust twisting those perfect features into a mask that was equal parts intoxicating and intimidating. Hey eyes, even half-lidded in pleasure, are still bright and wild, fixed on you even as the rest of her body bounces up and down.

Rather mercifully, it is her that ends up approaching orgasm first; lucky for you, because you’d have hated to see what could happen if she were disappointed by sex. The gradual tightening and pulsating of her already tight, slick tunnel tells you she was quickly reaching her peak.

Seulgi ups her pace, impaling herself again and again on your cock as though she were nearing the finish line to a race and wanted to finish strong. The determined look on her face begins to crack, as the pleasure of your stiff cock pumping in and out of her finally overwhelms her senses.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna fucking… fucking cum… fuck!”

She cums like you expected her to, like she did minutes before on your tongue - like a violent storm breaking upon a shore. Her body goes rigid, her fingernails dig into the wooden headboard, and her thighs clench around your waist as the pleasure overtakes her senses. Her pussy pulsates and quivers around your cock as she buries it as deep inside her as it could go. It is all you could do to hold on to her tight, shaking body as she rides out her pleasure for long, beautiful seconds.

When she comes down from her peak she is still slowly grinding herself against your crotch, your cock fully embedded inside her body, as though she is chasing the last vestiges of pleasure before she comes down to earth. Breathing heavily, skin flushed, she finally gives you her appraisal of your performance.

Her appraisal is a slap across your face. When you recover enough to look back at her, your cheek stinging with sharp pain, the wild look in her eyes both scares you and turns you on.

“You think I have to thank you for making me cum, when all you did was lie there? The only credit you get is for not cumming in five seconds like a fucking virgin.”

You are a little stunned by Seulgi, and more than a little unsure about how to react. You’d never been with a woman so wild, so crazy in bed before - only Chaeyoung came close, and even then it was more playful than angry. Seulgi was a storm, a tornado that came in, tore down your house, and didn’t care what you thought of it.

You want to reach up and choke her. You want to turn her around and pull on her hair hard as you drill her tight little body from behind. This part of you wants to fight her - wants to show her you were just as capable of dominating her as she was of you - but another, darker part of you wants to let her have her way. Because deep down, it kind of turned you on.

“I suppose you can cum too, then, I guess,” Seulgi says, as nonchalantly as she could, given the circumstances - as though she weren’t naked, fully impaled on a man’s cock.

“Where do you want to cum, you little bitch?” she asks, with a look that you would have thought was threatening if it weren’t so fucking hot.

“I want-”

Another slap, this time to your other cheek. This one stung more than the other. The gradual increase of pain in her slaps would have concerned you if they weren’t so fucking hot at the same time. You should have known better. You’d think you’d have learned.

“I decide where you cum,” she states, a little edge in her tone. She says the words matter-of-factly, as though she were to brook no complaint or argument, would accept no alternative. A storm, after all, cared little for the complaints of those in its path.

She slides off your cock - and you lament the loss of her tight wet heat wrapped around your cock as it slips out of her, shiny and glistening with her juices. Before you know it Seulgi is curled up into a ball between your legs, and soon she is taking you in and out of her mouth.

Again - no build up. No preamble, no teasing or foreplay. Only the replacement of one hot, wet orifice with another. Only the wet, hot cavern of Seulgi’s mouth, those lips wrapped tightly around your shaft, her tongue swirling around your sensitive head each time she reached the apex. You should have been ready. You should have known by now. But again, the tsunami that was Kang Seulgi’s body finds a coastline unprepared.

She is rough, lacking in the patience and technique of someone like Sana or Seolhyun; but Seulgi more than makes up for it with sheer determination, as though she were using anger and hate to fuel her work between your legs. And you were in no position to complain, not when her hot little mouth was already bringing you close to cumming after only a few seconds of work.

She must have felt you nearing your peak - because you were certainly in no position to tell her so, given the near paralysis you felt as she worked fiercely on your cock. Just moments before you finally cum Seulgi lets your cock pop out of her mouth.

Your orgasm overwhelms your senses, but you force your eyes open to watch as thick, glistening cum erupts from your tip to land on Seulgi’s face, on her cheeks and nose, painting her soft features with white semen. You continue to cum more than you think you were going to, as though your body were responding to Seulgi’s abuse by painting her face with as much thick, hot white seed as it could. The look of utter lust on Seulgi’s needy features is breathtaking - mouth open and tongue out, she looked as though each rope of thick cum that landed on her face brought her to a new level of perverse pleasure.

After letting the first few streams of cum land onto her wanton face Seulgi slips your spasming cock back inside her mouth, and the feel of her tongue on your sensitive shaft, mid-orgasm, is almost too much to handle. Your hands grip the sides of her skull in a grip that is almost too tight for the girl; but she bears it, accepting the last few streams of cum into her needy mouth to splash against the back of her throat.

Your hands keep her there - you had involuntarily buried your cock into her mouth with a thrust of your hips and the grip on her head, it seemed. Not that Seulgi seemed to mind, if the swirling of her tongue around the sensitive underside of your pulsating cock was any indication.

An indeterminate amount of time later, when you finally release her head from your grasp, Seulgi lets your now half-softened cock slip out between her pink lips - along with a thick stream of fresh semen. She is almost embarrassed by it, and she quickly darts out her tongue to collect it all, as though it were some expensive drink that she didn’t want to waste a drop of. You watch as her throat works, gulping the thick ropes of cum down into her body.

You are barely cognizant enough to watch as she sets to work cleaning your cock, using her hand to keep it straight as she licks your combined juices from your tired, weary shaft and balls.

All the while she does so with your warm cum still dripping down her face, a wicked smile on her lips, and those crazy eyes locked on yours.

---

It’s half an hour later when Momo and Yeri arrive in the apartment, thankfully enough time for you and the former member of Red Velvet to get yourselves dressed up again and at least somewhat presentable, even if you had to deal with a shirt that had its buttons torn off. The sight of your torn shirt was an obvious giveaway to Yeri and Momo; Yeri reacts with a sly smile, as though she’d expected it to happen, although the dark look of barely hidden disappointment in Momo’s eyes stings you a little.

“Our work downstairs is done,” Momo states, seeking to change the subject as the four of you stand in the living room, “We set up cameras at all the entrances and in the parking lot. Seulgi will be wearing a camera and a wire to capture her meeting with Irene here in this room.”

“And I’ll be in the bedroom with a recording device of our own,” you state. You knew you had to have your own copy of the recording; not only to ensure redundancy in case of equipment failure, but also as a backup plan in case Irene tried something unexpected. “Jihyo and Nayeon will be with me, ready to arrest Irene once the time is right and we’re sure she won’t try anything.”

“Fair enough,” Momo admits, “Now if you two are done with your… work, we can leave.” She gives you another sharp look, then turns and leaves the apartment. Yeri follows, but only after giving the apartment one last quick glance; unlike Seulgi, she seemed to have no desire to relive days gone by.

“Seulgi,” you say, stopping the girl as she makes to follow Momo and Yeri out.

“I need to know you won’t do anything stupid tomorrow,” you continue, as straightforwardly as you could.

“Stupid? Like what?” the girl asks, crossing her arms and facing you.

“Like kidnapping Irene. Or worse. Jihyo and Nayeon will be here to arrest her. All you need to do is get her inside the apartment. That’s all. I know you want to get back at her for what she did to you, but she’ll be prosecuted for all her crimes, I promise you. We’re going to do this the right way. We’re not going to hurt her.”

Seulgi smirks, as though she were offended by your insinuation.

“What makes you think I want to do that?”

“She betrayed you and Yeri. Left you behind to be captured by YG. You said you wanted to ask her why. That’s fine - but I need to know that you won’t do anything stupid, especially if her answer isn’t what you want to hear.”

“I just want to ask her why she left us there. One way or another, I’m going to get my answer.”

Seulgi turns away and begins to walk out of the apartment.

“Remember what I told you last week - don’t get in my way,” she states, each word cold as ice, as she steps out of the apartment to leave you alone with your thoughts.

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 7 ~The Holiday Feeling~

Picture Source

WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in Christmas Treats ...

After Annalise had left for a night out of bowling and dinner with Willie, she'd put on her new pyjamas, a long coat so no one in the street would notice what she was wearing underneath when she walked to Jamie's cottage and a pair of Ugg boots. All the while, her stomach did a mad flip-flopped, and she continually found herself staring into space, almost tripping on the way to Jamie's house.

Obviously, she hadn't finished staring into space because when Jamie opened the door after she'd knocked, sending her hurtling back to the present, she was speechless. Rollo dashed out of the house and circled her happily, jumping on her.

Jamie grinned and opened the door wider. "Sassenach! Get in here! We have a guest."

"Oh!?"  I thought we're alone.

She pulled the coat tighter and patted Rollo's head. She remembered Annalise's word not to brace herself too hard, took a deep breath, relaxed and stepped into Jamie's house.

What she saw next, took her by surprise.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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 "Oh, it's alive. I thought it's a toy. What's that?" Claire asked as she stepped into the cottage and saw movement in the shoebox on the floor. Rollo flopped himself down beside it like he was the keeper and protector. "Is this the guest you're talking about?"

"One of them." Grinning, Jamie shut the door and followed her gaze. "Can't ye tell what's in the box? Harry found the poor wee thing mewling under the bushes in the park. It cannae be more than a week old. Probably wandered away from the litter and got lost. It's good Harry found her when he did. I dinnae think it would have survived tonight in this cold."

"It's a kitten!" Placing the paper bags she had on the rug, she got on her knees, picked up the ball of grey fur and held it against her chest. Half of its body was cocooned into a red child's sock, and its tiny head had a comical covering. "Goodness, it's even got a hat with earholes. I've never seen anything like this." 

Jamie beamed. "Not my doing. Harry brought it all bundled up like that already."

"Who's Harry? Another sibling?" she asked, nuzzling her face into the tiny furry body before carefully depositing it back into the shoebox.

Ach, Harry! He was here a minute ago. "No. A mate. He's here somewhere. I invited him to stay for dinner. Give me a sec." He'd been distracted by Claire's arrival, he'd forgotten all about his unexpected visitor.

Jamie left Claire in the living area and went to look for his friend. When he felt a draft of cold air, he went into the kitchen thinking Harry probably went to have a peek at his back garden. 

He poked his head out the back door. "Harry!" he called out. There was no answer. Where the bloody hell has he disappeared to?

All throughout the day he'd been looking forward to tonight after he'd spent the afternoon putting up a Christmas tree he'd bought at a tree farm and decorating it with ornaments belonging to his grandmother from his mother's side. And of all days, Harry had to drop by. Not that Jamie wasn't glad to see him, but the timing was terrible as spending some alone time with Claire was on top of his agenda. Nevertheless, he'd invited the Englishman to stay for dinner. But where the hell is he?

He scoured the yard, but he couldn't find Harry. Suddenly feeling the cold, he slipped back into the kitchen to check the pot roast. It was already ready after he'd left it in a slow cooker to cook all day.

Earlier this morning, after he'd dropped by at Claire's B&B cottage and kissed her, it had been a mammoth task to leaving her side, so he'd kept himself busy all day to make time go by faster. It was becoming apparent spending time away from her was starting to feel like the tension on a bungee cord. The longer the time they spent apart, the greater the urge to see her. And the line felt like it was getting shorter, like his threshold for not being with her was diminishing. If Harry was joining them for dinner, he hoped he wouldn't stay too long after dessert.

"Jamie?"

He glanced up to find Claire holding up a bottle of red wine.

"I splurged a bit. I hope this bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon will go with whatever you're cooking?"

Perfect! Putting the teatowel down, he grinned and approached her.

"It's a classic," he said, taking the bottle from her hand and putting it on the counter. He pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips against hers. "I'm sorry Sassenach, I havenae given ye a proper greeting."

She smiled against his mouth. "Where's your friend?" she asked when he was done kissing her.

He pulled away and ran a hand through his hair. "God knows! He probably left. Harry does that all the time. I've invited him to Lallybroch for tea countless of times, but he’s always refused. I guess he's just not a people person." Jamie decided not to worry about it. "Hungry?"

"Very." She glanced past his shoulder. "What are we having?"

"Pot roast."

"Hmmm, nice. Smells heavenly. Need help?"

"No, I have everything under control. Want something to drink?" Jamie asked, taking out wine glasses, plates and cutleries.

"Not just yet. I had a cuppa before I left the cottage." She smiled at him. "I love your home, especially that fireplace. Is it original?"

He checked the roasted root vegetables in the oven for doneness and shoved them back in again. "Aye, it's an original. This is a crofter's cottage from the eighteenth century, and I've salvaged most of the original fixtures and fittings."

"Love the Christmas tree too. Did you put it up today?" she asked glancing around the kitchen, peering out of the window and touching his collection of fridge magnets.

"Aye, I did."

"Those antique Christmas ornaments are stunning and much better than those plastic baubles you get in shops. I have a few antique ornaments myself. Just too bad, our London flat is not big enough to accommodate a proper Christmas tree." She lifted the lid off the slow cooker and took a whiff. "Mmm, this smells lovely."

He straightened and glanced at what she was wearing. "Sassenach?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why are ye still wearing yer coat? Are ye cold? I thought I put enough wood in the fire."

She grinned. "Oh, this. It's a surprise. Hang on a minute." She turned her back to him, and he waited with anticipation, watching her movements of undoing her coat. If she was wearing a negligee under that coat, he knew he would have a heart attack, and dinner would definitely be put on hold if not cancelled. But he rubbished his thoughts immediately, knowing she wasn't that type of lass. "Close your eyes!" she instructed, and he did.

"Ye're killing me."

"Patience!"

"Are ye naked under yer coat?" he teased.

"You wish!"

He heard rustling followed by footsteps.

"Right, you can open them now."

He slowly opened his eyes, and his gaze immediately landed on the front of her top. It was a Rudolph the Reindeer's face applique complete with a protruding shiny big nose. She was a bundle of red, wearing  red fleece pyjamas with plaid bottoms, and her feet were covered in thick, red woollen socks. He laughed out loud.

"Wait for this. You haven't seen anything yet." Claire fiddled with something from under the hem and pulled the reindeer antler's hood from behind. The reindeer's nose on her front lit up, and the antlers stood lopsided on her head. The hoodie was far too big for her, and it hid one eye. "Ho, ho, ho!" she intonated in a low voice.

He chuckled and pulled her against him. "Ho, ho, ho, indeed. Where did ye get this? This is something for Christmas morning. It's almost as ridiculous as the Christmas jumpers."

"I know, right? As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get it. Bought it today in Inverness. I thought since we've been doing all sort of Christmassy things together, I'd stick with the theme."

"That red nose is not going to keep flashing like that the whole evening, will it? It's very distracting."

She pressed something from under the top. "Nope. The show's over."

He arched an eyebrow and decided to tease her. "Really? What's underneath that top?"

She blushed, but the smile never left her face. "A hungry tummy."

"Brilliant! Shall we eat then?"

"Sure! I'll help set up the table."

Claire rattled off the things she did with Annalise that day. He was glad her friend had agreed to stay until Three Kings which would buy him more time getting to know Claire better. Jamie didn't want to think of the day when she would go back to London, even though it had been lurking all day at the back of his mind. Watching her work beside him in the kitchen, he was glad she felt comfortable and right at home. He wanted to make good memories with her just in case this was all they would ever have.

They served dinner like they'd been doing it together for years, pouring red wine, plating food he'd prepared and chatting the entire time. They sat opposite each other so Jamie could see every blush, expression and emotion that crossed her face, appreciating the fact she had an appetite, a sense of humour and took a keen interest in his work, life and Broch Mordha. He might have sounded a tad bit like a salesman trying to sell a lifestyle in a remote Highland village, and if she noticed, she didn't give any hints.

When they touched the delicate subject of his PTSD, he realised it was easier to talk about it this time. Claire spoke with refreshing candour, even suggesting alternative healing such as meditation and acupuncture, which he liked and made a mental note to look into it.

Throughout their meal, Claire spoke of her childhood, and in exchange, he talked about his family. From time to time, he would reach out to squeeze her hand so he could see the blush blooming on her cheeks or kiss her, to see the shy smile spreading across her face. Every second with her was a pleasant discovery, and he knew what a lucky bastard he was. How she was without a boyfriend was beyond him but thankful that she didn't have one.

After dinner, they cleared the table and did the dishes. And when Jamie took out Rollo for a short exercise, Claire fed the kitten with a wee bottle Harry had left him.

They took their coffee, a box of chocolate Claire loved, and the unfinished bottle of red wine into the living room. As Jamie put another log into the fire, Rollo curled up next to Claire. It was quite apparent, he wasn't the only one smitten. Smiling, he plopped down next to her and turned on the TV to watch Home Alone.

..........

When the film credits started rolling in the end, Jamie turned off the volume and stretched. He glanced over to Claire just in time to see her unwrapping a Ferrero Rocher chocolate. When she realised he was looking at her, she offered him the already unwrapped sweet. 

He shook his head and smiled. "So, what do ye want to do?"

The room filled with silence as she exaggeratedly contemplated, tapping her chin and scrunching her nose while rolling the chocolate in her mouth. 

His eyes dropped to the delicate lines of her jaw. The smooth, pale skin of her neck and the movement of her throat as she swallowed wreaked havoc with his concentration. He had a very vivid image of what they could do, and they involved running his tongue along the neckline of that ridiculous pyjama top. Since that option would probably send her running out the door, he quickly dismissed the idea. "More movies?" he suggested.

"No. Had enough. Do you know how to play poker?"

"Do I know how to play poker?" He laughed out loud. "I'm a master at the game."

Her eyes lit up. "You have a deck of cards?"

"Aye, I will go and get them." He got up from the sofa and headed towards a desk in the corner of the room. "Always love a game of poker."

"Oh, good. I haven't played for ages."

"What do we play for?"

She cleared the coffee table and crossed her legs. "We'll play for pennies, how about that?"

"I dinnae think I have any loose change."

"We'll think of something else. I'm dealing."

He handed her the deck of cards, put on some classic Christmas song, and then refilled their glasses. He sat beside her and watched with amazement as her fingers expertly flew through the cards with ease, shuffling with lightning speed. While concentrating on his hand, he wondered where she learned how to deal and surmised probably her uncle, the same man who taught her to play pool.

"Alright, here we go, dealer's choice. Five-card stud, ante up."

He glanced up at her. "Wait! We havenae decided what we're playing for." 

"Oh, I forgot. You said you don't have any loose change."

"Maybe we ought to play for the family jewels."

She slapped him on the thigh. "Ha-ha! You funny man!"

His lips twitched. "Weel, any ideas?"

"Can't think of one at the moment."

"Wait a minute ...I have a verra interesting one."

Claire glared at him. "If you're thinking of strip poker, forget it."

He laughed out loud. "No, I didnae mean that. Although I wouldnae mind that." When she arched an eyebrow at him, he grinned. "I meant we'll play for favours."

She bit her lower lip. "Favours? What kind of favours?" she asked suspiciously.

"The first to win three hands gets a free favour from the other. It can be used at any time, like a voucher per se."

Her face suddenly became animated. "Can you use the favour for anything? How about the rules?"

He grinned. "Nae rules and ye can redeem yer favours on anything. Anything at all."

The challenge lured her in like a true gambler following the scent of a big stake. "Very well then, we're playing for favours."

He smothered the jubilant smile threatening to surface and quickly fixed his expression into poker-face, almost licking his lips with glee when she'd agreed.

She dealt, and he almost pumped his fist in the air at the obvious outcome, but he remained silent, watching her replace one of her cards.

After a while, he laid down his cards. "Flush."

"Cool. Two queens. Your deal." Her expression remained inscrutable. God, her poker face is good!

Jamie had to give her credit for keeping her emotions under control. Whoever taught her to play, taught her well and if it wasn't for his past experience, he felt in his guts she'd be one hell of a player to beat. Next, she threw down a pair of aces and yielded gracefully to his three twos.

"Alright, one more hand to go," he announced, subduing the mirth in his voice.

"My deal. I can count, ye ken," she said, imitating his accent. He kept his face impassive as he watched her dainty fingers flitting over the cards. "Care to share where you learn how to play poker?"

He inspected his hand casually. "Played a lot with my unit during my SAS days. Beats sitting around and twiddling my thumbs during long intervals."

"My uncle taught me," she shared. "As well as backgammon and chess."

He threw in a card and replaced it. "I have backgammon and chessboards if ye feel like playing for another time. I'm quite good at both games, in case ye're up for a challenge."

She let out an unladylike snort when she laid down her cards, displaying straight as victory gleamed in her eyes.

Jamie almost felt sorry for her. Not quite but almost.

He whistled low and shook his head. "Good hand." This time he allowed himself to smile. "But, sorry lass, it's no' good enough." He threw his cards down, showing four aces and then cockily stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on the sofa. "Nice game, though."

She gasped and looked at him with those beautiful golden orbs. "Jamie, the probabilities of four aces in five-card stud are ..." Her eyes widened. "Oh my word, you didn't!"

"What?"

"Why you cheeky sod ..."

"What, Sassenach?"

"Don't Sassenach me. You cheated!"

"No!"

"Yes, you did!"

He shook his head in feigned horror and tried to look offended. "Och, how could ye think that? Surely not! I ken ye're verra good at it, but this is all on luck."

Her pretty eyebrows slammed together. "No way you can get those four aces unless you palmed the cards. Admit it, because I was thinking of doing it myself, but I refrained from doing so!"

"Don't ye think yer accusation is a tad bit harsh?"

"Jamie, you cheated! I know you did. I can't believe you cheated on our date night. Oh, my God! How could you?"

"I did no such thing."

"Jamie!"

"No cheating occurred, Sassenach." He straightened up from his sitting position and smiled. "Now about that favour I won ..." But his voice trailed off when she abruptly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Sassenach?"

"You cheat!" Without warning, she propelled herself over the coffee table and into his arms. Air whooshed out of him as she toppled him back onto the sofa and slipped a hand under the sleeves of his sweatshirt, looking for the suspected hidden cards. Jamie grunted as the full weight of Claire landed on him, her intent on finding proof of foul play resolute. He attempted to regain his balance, but she shifted her attention somewhere else, making him fall back again. When her hands slipped into his pants pocket, he realised if she delved any deeper, she wouldn't come up empty-handed. Ah, sweet Jesus!  With no other options, he flipped her onto her back and pinned both hands above her head.

The tie holding her hair somehow became undone during the struggle, causing her chocolate brown curls to spring forth and tumble down, and a few unruly locks to settle on her face. Jamie stared at the snapping golden eyes peeking between the strands, filled with determination despite his more considerable strength. Her chest heaved against her ridiculous top, the appliquéd Rudolf the reindeer staring mockingly at him. Without meaning to, his weight forced her thighs apart, and he wondered if she was aware of both their predicament. Or at least his.

Jamie knew he would be in deep trouble if he remained where he was, as she continued to wriggle under him.

"I know you're hiding the cards somewhere. I wasn't born yesterday, you know! Admit you cheated and I will forget this ever happened."

"Will ye keep still, Sassenach" he muttered. "Ye're torturing me."

She stuck out her bottom lip and blew a hard breath, the wayward curl lifting and blowing sideways, clearing her line of sight. "That's your conscience doing that. Did you know there's a special place in hell for cheaters?"

He muttered a curse under his breath. "Don't ye ever think of the repercussion to yer actions? Ye cannae just tackle a man like that."

"Oh? What are you going to do about it? Tell Santa to put me on his naughty list?"

Her body suddenly started to shake when she burst into fits of laughter at her own words, causing the heat in his groin to surge through his body like a wildfire gone out of control. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! His blood buzzed in his head like a swarming fog, and even though he tried to shift all his thoughts on the fat man sliding down the chimney and getting stuck halfway, all he could only think of was the soft body beneath him. He tried not to breathe and held his body in a tight muscle lock and prayed Claire wouldn't make any more sudden big movements; otherwise, he was going to explode like a schoolboy and look like a glaikit idiot.

But when the realisation of his plight swiftly dawned on her, her mouth formed a comical O, and her face turned bright red, her previous intent on extracting a confession of his cheating, dissipating. 

"Jamie?" Her voice was husky.

He swallowed hard and ignored the fact he had a big fat boner wedged between them. "Did I hurt ye? Didnae mean to be so rough."

"No. I'm fine."

"Are ye sure?"

She smiled, and he inhaled deeply to regain his composure. She smelled like shampoo and flowers and just a hint of fruit flavoured lollies, and he could just about see the pulse palpitating on her neck. Their position made his erection harder, and the way she was looking at him wasn't helping at all.

"You're a big lad," she gulped. 

Ah, shite! "And ye're not helping," he said hoarsely, tamping down a groan.

"Shall I go?"

"No!" He took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Just be still for a moment, aye?"

"Alright."

They laid still for a while looking at each other.

Carefully, he let go of her wrists above her head and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I can stare at ye like this for hours and never tire of it," he whispered. She smiled, and he kissed the smooth line of her jaw. When she tilted her head back, his lips trailed down of their own accord, bowing his body over hers as he worked his way to the side of her neck.

Hard as he was, he didn't move against her. He wanted her to feel safe and everything to be on her terms, letting her know this attraction went beyond sex. He held on to his control with a mental vice grip and simply appreciated the moment. 

His combed his fingers through her curls, feeling the softness of it in his hand as he kissed her softly, never demanding or pushing even if it pained him a lot.

He heard Rollo sigh from somewhere in the house and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. He almost shot out the sofa as small hands tentatively explored his chest and shoulders, before sliding around his neck and up through his hair. Then they moved down his side and waist before her palms settled over the ridges of his stomach. He loved the small sounds she made at the back of her throat and the softness against every part of him that was hard. Every movement and sigh she made, her scent drifted and surrounded him, a heady pheromone, pulling him in closer.

When her hands slipped under his sweatshirt and settled at his lower back, his breath broke and went ragged, and an instant electric tension rose between them, turning their soft, playful kisses heated and more urgent.

As much as it hurt him to do so, he tore his lips away and looked into her eyes. "We dinnae have to do anything ye dinnae want, Sassenach. We can stop right now," he whispered, his voice sounding oddly gruff in his ears. He felt his cock protesting against his boxer shorts, but he ignored the mounting discomfort in his groin.

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to stop. Kiss me again." 

Relief slammed through him as a ton of weight lifted off his back. "Sassenach, are ye sure?"

She nodded. 

He was about to kiss her again when a gentle push of her hands on his chest stopped him.

"I've never done this before," she whispered. 

"What do ye mean?" 

She rolled her eyes. "I meant sex!"

Ah, Christ! A virgin living in London! How is that possible? Even for Broch Mordha, a virgin was a rarity. He shut his eyes for a few heartbeats, and when he opened them again, suddenly she looked unsure, almost embarrassed, and he felt she needed him to step up. He gave her a slow smile to put her at ease. "Do ye come with a user's manual? Never been with a virgin before."

Her face broke into laughter, and the tension eased a bit. "No! And before you start having all sorts of notions about virgins, I'm not all that naive. I have a fair idea of how it suppose to happen."

"Weel, no crash courses needed then," he joked before his face turned serious. "But why me, Sassenach?"

She gave him an unwavering look, her chin tilting up slightly. "Because I've never felt like this before." 

Neither had he, but the wee voice in the back of his head reminded him this lass was the type of lass you brought home to introduce to your parents. Getting involved with her on a deeper emotional level wouldn't bode well for both of them as her life was in London, and he belonged here. He didn't want to hurt her. She deserved a man who could live in her world without falling down to his knees and having one of his episodes. But the gravitational pull between them was unrelenting. He needed her badly, but his conscience compelled him to offer one more out. One more, before he lost sight of the right thing to do.

"We can just continue kissing ...nothing needs to happen," he rasped, brushing their lips together. "Just say the word, Sassenach. I promise ye I wouldnae mind. I'm perfectly happy just to kiss."

Claire's breath caught as she scrutinised him, the weight of what could follow once they'd stripped each other's clothes written in her eyes. Probably in his, too. "I want this Jamie ... I'm ready."

He studied her for a long while, before making up his mind and nodding. "Wait here."

Getting up, he grabbed some blankets and throw cushions from the sofa and laid them out on the floor. And then he went to retrieve some condoms from the bedroom. After a couple of minutes fussing and finally satisfied with his handiwork, he picked Claire up and gently carried her by the fireplace. Though the fire was already slowly dying down, the embers still glowed, lending the room a cosy feel and warmth.

Claire looked up at him and beamed. "Well, I suppose this is the part where you take off your top."

He laughed out loud despite his balls almost on the verge of mutiny. What supposed to be a tense and awkward moment, was turning out to be fun. He didn't need telling twice. Grinning, he dragged his shirt over his head and was hovering over her under a split second. She looked mightily impressed as she pulled him down. "Wow, never seen anyone take their shirt off so fast," she breathed as he pressed his lips on the hollow of her throat.

"Ye should see how fast I can get yers off," he muttered against the crook of her neck. 

She laughed and gently pushed him away. "I don't want my Rudolph top damaged. I'll take my own clothes off, thank you very much."

With his heart in his throat, he watched her stand and peeled off her pyjama bottom first. She had her back to him, and he figured she was trying to hide her blush. And when she took off her top next, his cock roared back to life, and he hurriedly followed suit, taking off his sweatpants, his eyes fixed on the smoothness of her long legs. Leaving her red bra and knickers on, she swiftly slipped next to him, her teeth clattering and her beautiful pale skin covered in goosebumps.

He gathered her immediately under him, rubbing her arms and the side of her body. "How's that? Still cold?" he asked, looking down at her.

She bit her lip and nodded. "Feeling a lot warmer now."

"Christ, ye smell so good."

"And you're so hot." When she realised what she just said, her eyes widened in horror. "I mean you're like a heating pad."

He grinned at her. "I know what ye meant, but I'll take the other meaning any day. It will do wonders for my ego."

She slapped his arm. "Your ego is perfectly intact, I can assure you."

He smiled as he skimmed his hand up her side and gently cupped her breast, waiting for her reaction. When he felt her back arch a little, he brought down his lips to hers, gently thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She let out a tiny whimper, opening and taking each thrust, conscious of her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

He reminded himself to take it slow and make it memorable for her, but when she parted her knees and allowed him to settle between her thighs, he groaned out loud and changed position, so the tip of his erection pressed right into her through their undies. The slow tease of their movements was maddening, and he wondered if she was aware of it. His cock was straining against her where it would slide in effortlessly if there had been nothing between them.

He felt her hooked her thumbs at the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. He helped her by kicking them off while putting his fingers under the edge of her knickers. He paused with bated breaths, waiting for her permission, and when she lifted her hips, he groaned and kissed her long and thorough, pushing the flimsy scrap down her thighs.

He nipped at her lips, then trailed down with his tongue to nibble her neck, his fingers unsnapping the clasp of her bra. Claire flailed her head, seemingly unable to verbalise the reactions her body was experiencing, and he watched her with fascination. Emboldened, he cupped the weight of her breast, rolling her nipple, then gently tweaking it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, God Jamie ..."

"It's good?"

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and rolling her lips in.

Jamie lowered his mouth and sucked her nipple, his tongue flicking and never letting up the frantic pace, his fingers trailing along her inner thigh, causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin. When he touched her core, she was already wet with need, making his head spin out of control. Fighting the urge to take her now, his index finger traced her folds, rubbing her wetness on her nub. The delicate hitch of her breath hit his ears the exact time his mouth abandoned her breast. 

He met her gaze and sank into the amber depths of her eyes, so far gone with pleasure they turned to molten gold, full of feminine demand that battled past all obstacles and shattered them to pieces. The raw need etched in her features told Jamie she was past the point of no return, that she wanted him now and he knew the feeling.

"Sassenach ...are ye sure?"

"Oh, sweet Mother of God, if you stop now ..." her voice trailed off in a hiss.

"I need to hear the words."

"For God's sake, I want you, Jamie. Now."

Knocking back the reluctance to untangle himself from her, Jamie reared back and reached out for the condom he'd left beside the cushion. He quickly sheathed himself in stretched latex and prowled up her body, settling between her thighs and muffling her requests to hurry with a hard kiss. 

"The first time ye come, I want it to happen while I'm sunk so deep in ye, ye'll never forget who broke it in," he muttered, words muffled by her lips.

"Oh, dear God ..." she moaned.

"Open yer legs wider for me, Sassenach."

She nodded, her fingers running over his cheekbones, lips, chin, as she hiked her knees up. Their breaths raced out of their mouths as he reached down and guided his cock to her opening. Slowly, he pushed inch by inch, allowing her to get used to his girth. When he was finally buried to the hilt, he collapsed and dropped her forehead to hers. 

When he got his breath back, he braced himself on his elbow and looked into her eyes. "Did I hurt ye?"

"Just a little. I hardly noticed. Keep moving." She wrapped her legs around his hips, her fingernails scraping his back lightly on the way down to his arse, which she gripped with hesitation at first, then with more confidence.

With a groan, his hips started to roll of their own volition. He held his breath as heat threatened to flare up in his balls. "Oh fuck, ye feel so good."

"Don't stop ..." she gasped frantically moving her hips against him.

With a hand on her bottom, he lifted her hips effortlessly and drove himself deeper, the last shreds of his control dissolving as he fell on top of her like a dying man. His mouth travelled over hers, and she responded in kind, their tongues twining, their bodies moving in synchronicity to the erotic rhythm and dance. The root of his erection grated against her core and her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, her breaths coming out in pants. It was so breathtaking to watch her pleasure, and what his body is doing to hers, it constricted his heart.

When she dropped her legs from his hips to spread them wider, she let out a strangled moan, and his cock bore down, working her nub. He angled his body for more friction, watching and always conscious of her reaction. When her back arched, and her right leg extended further out, they descended into what felt like wanton madness. She whimpered and raised her hips to meet his thrusts, her inner walls beginning a slow, tight suction of his cock. Jamie was almost afraid to look at her, worried the sight of her would make him lose his restraint and come before her. But it was an impossibility to keep his eyes away when she looked so beautiful beneath him.

He watched her writhe and finesse flew out the window. He fell on her, grunting, sucking in huge gulps of air, pushing her thighs open as he drove faster, listening to her moans of his name, treasuring the throaty awe of them in his ears and all around him. Their mouths joined and gorged, her hands slapping down on his buttocks to pull him in deeper and push him faster. All thoughts of logic, questions and issues suspended as he dipped his head, lowered his mouth over her jiggling tits and continued to pump like a wild beast.

Her body suddenly stilled, before trembling violently underneath him in a climax accompanied by a soft moan, her inner walls squeezing his cock tight. Cursing under his breath, he yanked her legs up and drove himself with a few more hard thrusts to his own peak, a loud groan reverberating from his chest and echoing into the room. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body exploded and spilt his seed. He went from being a bundle of tensed nerves to being utterly devoid of it. 

Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of her, gathering her against him, almost smothering the air out of her. His insides were totally decimated, mind blown and floated down like confetti. 

Moments later, when he lifted his head and searched her eyes, he couldn't stop the widest grin from spreading across his face. And when she returned it with a twinkle in her eye, he fell irreversibly and completely in love with Claire Beauchamp.

..........

The next morning, Jamie got up extra early to let Claire sleep while he did a few chores around the house. He'd kept her up all night, making love and sometime in the early hours of the morning, he'd carried her to his bed. Sleep had been evasive, but this time the cause hadn't been his nightmares or one of his episodes. His thoughts had been filled with the future and its uncertainties instead of being plagued with the past. There were still some niggling doubts lurking in the recesses of his mind, and one of them was his concern when Claire returned to London.

How often had he asked himself in the past twenty-four hours if he could live in London to be closer to her? But now that he had an arboricultural business with Willie, it was doing very well and planning on expanding. He was excited about the community projects he was involved in and committed himself to working long-term. With his episodes and PTSD, the idea of being surrounded by busy streets, chaos, traffics, loud noises, and shoes on the pavement rather than fresh earth paralysed a piece inside him.

Jamie had spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Eventually, some choices have to be made. And he wasn't sure if love would be enough for either of them and if Claire felt the same way.

Taking that leap would only end in heartache and worsen his condition. There had to be some other way. But he couldn't ask her to give up her life and career in London. Or could he? Could he give her what she needed? He shook his head and pushed the bugging thoughts away. They still had the time, and he should focus on that.

After letting Rollo out and bringing in more logs for the fireplace, he made some coffee, answered his emails and read some news on the internet. When his phone chirped and realised it was from his sister Jenny, he groaned. He decided to answer and get it out of the way.

Jenny: I heard all about the lass you're seeing. A city lass, no less. Have you gone mad? Haven't you learned your lessons?

Ah, fuck, I don't have time for this.

Jamie: Enjoy your holiday, and don't worry about me. It's just a winter fling. OK? She's on holiday, and she'll be going back to London. Soon. Happy now?

He left his phone on the kitchen counter and shook his head. This wasn't the text conversation he should be having about Claire. But if it would keep Jenny from busting his balls of all days, he'd play along just to pacify her. He slipped into the bedroom, and when he saw Claire still asleep, he decided to have a shave and shower.

After he was done, he walked into the bedroom and noticed the bed was already made. He searched for Claire, humming under his breath and planning what breakfast he should prepare.

"Sassenach?" he called out. 

No answer. 

She probably went back to her cottage to get a change of clothes, he thought.

He shrugged and went ahead and prepared breakfast, singing along to the song playing on the radio. All I Want For Christmas Is You.

Dear Readers,

Thanking you all for reading and leaving your feedback on the previous chapter. Very much appreciated. It's crunch time now with my writing and preparation for Christmas, but thank God, I'm still on track.

Anyway, I hope this story has given you Christmas joy so far and looking forward to reading what you thought of my latest update. Sending you best wishes and positive vibes. Take care of yourselves and until next time, much love. x

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Kiro’s R&S - Youthhood (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (少年时代) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN🍒

Cancelled Kiro’s R&S:

> top experimental subject (by another user)

> stunning young idol

> youthhood ♡

> heaven’s home for children (by another user)

[ Chapter 1]

Kiro sits on the highest flight of steps of TKTS. With the scorching sun directly overhead, he’s queuing to purchase discounted tickets to “Wicked” with Pei En.

TKTS, which sells discounted tickets, is located in the bustling Times Square in New York, USA. Behind it is the NASDAQ screen, and on both sides are shops selling Disney products and all sorts of fast fashion brands. The buildings in front and in the surroundings have gigantic, neat and pretty advertisements.

Among them, a gigantic “The Avengers” poster above the subway is the most attention grabbing.

This is a representation of the era. It’s a symbol of the 20th century, and is also similar to the cyberpunk world of “Blade Runner”.

“I’ve got the tickets!”

Pei En waves the two tickets to “Wicked” in his hand. Pei En is the guitarist in his band. Kiro’s agency formed a band for him, and most of the band members are French locals. Only Pei En is of mixed blood like Kiro - a child from a Jew and an Asian.

“If the performance had gone smoothly, we would have reached earlier!”

They have a final performance in New York as part of their tour, and would have to leave after, rushing to Los Angeles, California.

“This time, I’m going to hide the donuts in an even more secret location so the person who inspects the tickets wouldn’t discover them!”

While Kiro says this, he finishes the donut in his hand.

Donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts are very sticky. Only Kiro can treat such things as delicacies.

His ringtone sounds. With a glance at the number on the screen, he hangs up immediately. Pei En is very curious to know who the caller is. He has expressed curiosity regarding everything involving Kiro, and Kiro knows why.

“Is it that fellow Lawrence again?” Pei En asks. Lawrence is the agent of their band.

“Nope, but it’s definitely a harassment call.”

“It should be.”

Pei En seems to be a carbon copy of Kiro. Aside from his hair not being golden coloured, he is extremely similar to Kiro in terms of bubbliness and openness, and how simple-minded he is. 

-

[ Chapter 2 ]

After purchasing the tickets, both of them return to the agency. Lawrence is at the side, looking through the program booklet for their performance tonight. Lawrence is overwhelmingly ambitious. He won’t give up until he bags a Grammy Award for the band.

“Did you know? Another group of strange people came to look for you again.”

The moment Lawrence sees Kiro, he pulls the latter to a corner. Pei En curiously watches on.

“What kind of people did you provoke? They look like they shouldn’t be trifled with.”

Kiro shakes his head. “What do you mean by ‘they’? Fans?”

When Lawrence sees the innocent and harmless expression on Kiro’s face again, he knows that his questions wouldn’t get him anywhere. Kiro always manages to find ways to conceal himself.

“How’s the preparation for the concert? You’re the lead singer, and all the girls are flocking here for you!”

“I’ll definitely perform even better than usual!”

Kiro looks to be full of zest and in high spirits. He genuinely loves being on stage, and loves how he radiates brilliance. Who doesn’t like seeing fans go into a frenzy over them and be captivated by them? It enables Kiro to fully feel that he is still living on this earth. And that on this earth, there are still so many people who like him...

“I’m guessing you went to buy a souvenir again today.”

Lawrence comes to such a conclusion after glancing at Kiro’s bag. Kiro has a hobby - to buy some souvenirs wherever he goes, whenever convenient.

From Paris to Munich, Zurich to Stockholm, Vancouver to Montreal - wherever he goes on tour, he would buy local fridge magnets and postcards, and he would always buy two sets.

He wants to collect these things, so if a day comes when he can meet her again, he would show them to her, and say:

“Look! This world is so beautiful, and you no longer have to be afraid.”

But till now, he has yet to find her. He remembers her eyes. One day, he will find her in a vast sea of people. 

“Did you know that the agency from China has sent someone to negotiate with us? They want you to sign on with them, and the amount they’re giving you is basically--”

Lawrence’s tone is exaggerated. “How are people in China so wealthy!”

“What if I said that I wanted to go to China?”

“Hey, buddy, the band can’t do without you.”

“Haha, Pei En is much more outstanding than I am.”

At this point, Pei En is still watching them. Kiro understands him too well. He’s much too curious. Also, he’s only curious about Kiro, which could very quickly expose Kiro’s hidden identity.

Did that group of people actually send Pei En to monitor him...

He kind of underestimates Pei En though.

“But that fellow is always so absent-minded. God knows what he’s thinking about.”

-

[ Chapter Three ]

Americans enjoy overstating things. At one moment, they go “only God knows...”, and at another moment, they go “for the sake of God...”. Some people can’t stand it, but Kiro finds it very interesting.

Very quickly, Kiro begins rehearsing with the band. His style of singing changes a lot. When they were in Europe, they mostly played rock music. When they reached America, they started playing country or jazz music.

Kiro likes the southern accent of the keyboardist from California. But Lawrence prohibits it. “The southern accent is the most crude and coarse form of English! Why can’t you learn the way the British speak?”

Lawrence has always favoured people who can speak eloquent British English - to him, only such people are refined and elegant. But Kiro grew up in France. When he first started learning English, he tended to pronounce “ch” as “sh”. Actually, French is genuinely elegant and pleasant to listen to. And English tinged with a slight French accent can make one absorbed in it.

-

The concert ended smoothly.

The fans are cheering in a frenzy outside, wanting them to perform one more song. But the agent has already told them to leave.

Pei En and Kiro take a car and rush to the theatre to watch “Wicked”. This is the final Broadway show they want to watch, and it was a shame that Kiro didn't get to watch the well-known Hamilton.

At the entrance, that group of fellows stopped him again. 

The person standing at the forefront is a Caucasian woman. She walks up to Kiro elegantly and greets him, signalling for the person next to her to bring Pei En away.

“I’ve already given you a response through e-mail, and I hope you won’t disturb me again.”

The Caucasian woman proceeds as usual, showing him an FBI ID.

Kiro grumbles in his heart.

“I swear I won’t disclose the contents of ‘The Avengers’. Even though I’ve already watched it on my laptop, I’ll definitely watch it again in the cinema!”

The Caucasian woman laughs.

“Mr Kiro, you’re very humorous. Even though we know that apart from Disney, you’ve also hacked into Universal Studios and Paramount Pictures, we’re not here to talk about this.”

She continues: “KEY - that’s you, isn’t it?”

-

[ Chapter 4 ]

Kiro doesn’t respond, his eyes widening as he glances around. 

“In order to track down your IP address, we had to destroy four computers.”

“Are you looking for me to make compensation for the computers?”

“Mr Kiro. Ten years ago, you expended no effort to hack into our computers, and left behind a string of mysterious characters.”

The Caucasian woman smiles at him amiably. Kiro’s expression grows serious. Ten years ago, that KEY who hacked into their organisation wasn’t him...

“Ten years later, you’re back again. I think you're trying to provoke us.”

“I don’t have such an intention.”

“Whether or not you do, we can’t let you continue this way. Mr Kiro, this is a serious issue. We are now sending you a sincere invitation, and we hope to work together to do more noble things.”

Kiro is silent. He had previously found a clue leading to his own master. Finding out that he had entered the American FBI website and left behind a series of symbols - he thinks this is message to him from his master. As such, he entered it as well, and found that series of symbols, but until now hasn’t been able to decipher it.

It’s a series of very strange symbols, reminiscent of a new language formed using Latin and Roman symbols. He managed to decipher it a little, and it appears that the series of symbols seem to be pointing him to a location.

And the FBI had found him quickly, sending him an e-mail. It was a solemn reminder that if he was unwilling to be enlisted by them, he would lose his rights to use a computer forever.

“You’ve stated these things clearly in the e-mail, and I’ve already replied.”

“I don't think you have considered the severity of this matter. Mr Kiro, we can detain you.”

"In that case, I’ll just sing in jail then!”

Seeing the displeased look on the Caucasian woman’s face, Kiro continues smiling simple-mindedly.

“I hope you wouldn’t regret this in the future.” The Caucasian woman leaves a final statement that is often found in a script for a classic villain. She leaves with the large group of people. 

Pei En walks over frantically, and Kiro walks towards him as well.

“Tell them that I’ve met with some trouble, and will need to leave America immediately.”

Pei En pretends to be puzzled.

“You understand the meaning in my words, don’t you?”

For the first time, Kiro looks at him seriously. During serious moments, he doesn’t smile. 

“Where do you plan to go? We can send you to Russia.”

Pei En is no longer smiling. His expression changes, along with his entire aura.

As expected, Pei En is much too similar to him. If Kiro were to leave the band, Pei En could take over his position as the lead singer, and that group of people had considered this fact too.

-

[ Chapter 5 ]

The face of the little girl surfaces in Kiro’s mind again. 

The girl is lying with him, and is all smiles as she looks at him.

“Don’t be afraid. When I’m out, I’ll buy you donuts, okay?”

The girl draws the shape of a donut in the air.

Back then, Kiro didn’t speak. He just stared at the ceiling in a dazed state.

“Don’t worry that I won’t have enough money. My dad will give it to me.”

Kiro remains wordless, quietly listening to the little girl speak.

The little girl struggles to pull on his hand.

Their fingers lace together, the warmth from her palm gradually coursing into Kiro’s heart.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”

Kiro turns to look at her - to look at her determined brown eyes, to look at how the corners of her lips angle upwards. Kiro slowly learns how to curl the corners of his lips from her. It’s the first smile to appear on his face. 

Suddenly, the door is flung open. A group of people wearing doctor’s coats enter and drag him away. The little girl watches him in a daze, and he stares back at her. They agreed to go out to have donuts - can they still eat them?

-

“I want to return to China.”

Pei En shakes his head, alarm in his eyes. “Why? There’s so much freedom here, and I’m the only one who monitors you. And I’m inclined to trust you more now. You won’t betray us.”

“No... I still want to go back.”

Not just for the little girl. The symbols left behind by his master seem to point to a certain location in China... Where exactly is it? And why did he leave the symbols with the FBI? Could it be the place he’s hiding at right now?

No matter what, he wants to solve this riddle.

“All right. I’ll handle it for you as soon as I can. I think you’d have to use a false identity this time.”

“As long as everything goes smoothly, it’s fine.”

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing they can’t do.”

He wants to wait till he returns to China before telling Lawrence about what happened. Lawrence will definitely be extremely frantic. After all, he’s been following Kiro ever since he debuted in France.

And Pei En will definitely be happy. He can finally take over Kiro and become the favourite member of the group, and obtain love from the fans.

Kiro is someone who doesn’t lack love. But he always subconsciously wishes that he could obtain even more love. More and more...

-

[ Chapter 6 ]

Before Kiro retuned, Pei En gave him materials pertaining to the agency in China.

“Your agent is called Savin. He doesn’t seem as eager for instant success and quick profits as Lawrence. Mr Savin is a very amiable person, and you should be very happy interacting with him.”

“Is he one of your people?”

“I don’t know.”

“You really don’t know?”

Pei En shakes his head. “I rank too low, so I don’t have the right to ask. I’m just an elementary spy.”

Kiro nods, taking his luggage and preparing to leave. He’ll set things straight eventually.

“Kiro, I don’t think you’re transparent. They say that what’s in your heart is easy to guess, which is why they put me by your side. But I think they have underestimated you.”

Kiro looks at Pei En’s troubled eyes, then showcases his signature sunny smile.

“How can that be? Do you want a postcard? When I get to China, I’ll mail you one. I also want to mail them to Lawrence and the members from the band. Treat it as an apology.”

Like Kiro, Pei En showcases a sunny smile. “In that case, we’ll wait for your news. You’ll definitely be at the height of popularity in China.”

“Let’s work hard together.”

“Yes!”

After parting with Pei En, who has been with together with him from morning to night for so long, Kiro lifts his luggage and embarks on an unknown journey. 

As what Pei En said, he isn’t transparent. His brilliant smile conceals something underneath, just as the brilliant sun shrouds darkness underneath.

Hidden in the depths of his secrets are things even darkness doesn’t know of. If darkness had a mind of its own, it might think it doesn’t fit with this pure and simple youth.

Just as how everyone think he’s a simple, innocent Kiro, the sunlight casted on him can pierce through him completely, the rays of light refracting onto the floor. 

Actually, since a very long time ago, he was no longer a youth...

But, for her sake, he's willing to become a youth again.

“Don’t be afraid, I’ll protect you.”

He once again recalls what the girl said to him.

“This time, I’ll be the one protecting you.” Kiro says excitedly. He stands outside the JFK Airport, his eyes staring directly at the sun.

“I’ll find you, and protect you. I even have a mountain of souvenirs stored in my luggage. I’ll give them all to you. And my purest heart - I’ll give it to you too!”

-

Other cancelled R&S: here

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 2 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sasuke skipped out during the cultural festival just like he did back in the last year of his middle school, content in hearing nothing but his own breath, the bustle outside his window, the sporadic chirping of the birds in early mornings and late afternoons, the shuffle of feet from his neighbors and the occasional clanking of dishes. When hours extended late into the evening, the activities would be replaced by the muffled night life that seemed like eons away but was actually just five blocks far and so he would pick out the drums, the bass drops, and the rave chaos and fall asleep when the crowds pack up, but not all days were like these. He would stay awake well past the closing time with silence confronting his consciousness, and his only friend would be the CD collection of a Japanese artist called The Charm Park from a previous tenant who left it behind. He spent his winter break like this.

When spring term came around, Sasuke noticed a shift around Naruto. The tiptoeing was still there, but it lessened to an extent where his classmates would greet him ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ while they walked to their hideout. He was right in not asking because the blonde eventually overshared everything.

The second years held an impromptu race before the culmination. Naruto, eager to get the front seat view, pushed against the crowds, incidentally landed on the track, became the representative of the first years, and won the race. Ultimately, it ended on a good note despite the rookie athletes being overshadowed, and Naruto’s bully magnet has transformed into some sort of people magnet. His classmates have asked him for lunch several times in the presence of Sasuke, but Naruto turned them down.

“You can ask for shares in their bento boxes or struck gold and have them make you one,” Sasuke said. “You don’t need to litter around here.”

“I feel sorry for you,” Naruto replied, grinning while handing him a juice carton.

It was cherry tomato flavored – an unusual choice for the simple-minded Naruto who would easily settle on an orange or grapefruit juice. Sasuke understood this was the blonde’s kind of pull on people, and he heard what he tried to say between the lines. “It’s the stares.”

“And the request for the background story no one really wants to hear.”

Sasuke sipped the last of the juice from the carton. “Just think of it as your villain origin story.”

“But I want to be a hero and do main character things!”

He crumpled the juice carton in his hands and playfully threw it towards Naruto, perfectly landing in the middle of the styled spikes. “You simpleton.” The blonde gave him an intense glare and threw the carton back to Sasuke, missing the small smile that formed on the latter’s lips.

When the last term wrapped up, student rankings were finally pinned in the major hallway entrance. Sasuke was itching to go home and eat a pack of instant ramen, but Naruto picked him up from his classroom and dragged him to the hallway. As usual, there were the awed and open-eyed stares, basically confirming that he placed first, but there was also clear contempt towards his nonchalance.

“You are really a genius, Sasuke.” Naruto patted him on the back – soft, gentle pats, reassuring, and proud. It was like the ones given to him by his parents when he placed first or won a contest. All of a sudden, the place was too stifling, and his hand unconsciously went to his throat to massage it, hoping he could get rid of the thing that was blocking his airway.

A hand with a bluish fingernail shot out from his dimming sight and brought him back to reality. It was Sakura holding out her hand for a handshake. “I guess you beat me…by 0.5 point.”

“You had a bet with Sasuke, Sakura?” Naruto asked. In between the cultural festival and the spring term, the two had become familiar with each other, occasionally greeting each other in the hallways between classes, but Sakura never had a direct interaction with Sasuke.

“Yes, during the cultural festival,” the walking cherry blossoms happily replied. Her hand was still struck out, earning questioning glances from the surrounding student body because who would dare ignore the unofficial darling of the school?

“It wasn’t a bet.” Sasuke tugged on Naruto’s collar. “Let’s go, Naruto.” He turned with the blonde in tow, but Hatake Kakashi blocked his way. He had on a protective stance with crossed arms and slight brow raise. The book he was always carrying was peeking out from his pants’ pocket.

“Don’t leave a girl waiting for a handshake, Mr. Uchiha. That’s disrespectful in a competition.” His lips were curved in that consistent ambiguous smile that highlighted the beauty mark on his chin. Kakashi firmly grabbed Sasuke’s hand in the next seconds and placed it on Sakura’s still open palm.

Contrary to his assumption, her palm was rugged with rough contours and with evident history of calluses – the hands of a hard worker. Sasuke wanted to blame his stored prejudices on her cherry pink hair. He looked up, annoyed and wanting to get his hand off from her hold but was frozen in place by the visible flush on her face. Oblivious of his effect, Kakashi’s grip remained on Sasuke’s hand in an attempt of a handshake. “That seals the deal this term. Looking forward to your competition next term.” The spectators rode on the teacher’s easy-going energy and shrugged off this weird encounter.

Naruto was the one who tugged on Sasuke’s collar and pulled him away from the crowd. The latter immediately shoved his hands inside his pockets and walked away briskly. Ever so briefly, Sasuke glanced back and saw Kakashi patting Sakura’s shoulder, probably offering congratulations, and validating her. He wondered whether the teacher noticed the subtle hair tuck or the redness of her ears and nape. Naruto’s arm blocked his view as the blonde placed it around his shoulders, snickering and praising his ‘friend’s genius skills’ all the way to the school gates where they eventually separated and welcomed the summer break.

------------------------------

Not a week into summer Naruto hunted Sasuke down and knocked incessantly on his door. “Grumpy! Save me!”

“If you’re on the verge of dying, call 119.” Sasuke increased the volume of the cd player to drown out the noise. The knocks stopped after a few seconds which gave Sasuke temporary relief.

“Sasuke!”

Nope, he wasn’t gone. “What do you want?”

“Math remedial classes. In exchange, I have ramen.”

No one really visited him and so if he would open the door, Naruto would be his first ever visitor. Sasuke tried to ascertain his feelings – whether he was angry that someone intruded in his personal space or relieved he didn’t need to be alone with his thoughts.

“You better brought a lot,” Sasuke said as he opened the door. Naruto held up an eco-bag full of ramen, chips, and soda. On his other arm were their school books and Math notebook.

“You’re hopeless.” Naruto’s scores were averaging between 40s and 50s. “I thought you were on scholarship?”

“There’s no academic crap so I’m good.” Naruto kept on glancing around Sasuke’s apartment, noting the neat line-up of books, the opened cases of CDs, the lack of television, and the closed curtains over the wide full-length windows. “How come your apartment is cleaner and bigger? I could never keep my space clean. It takes so much energy!”

“I have the better side of the coin, remember?”

“Eh but your fridge is empty,” Naruto noted as he started to cook ramen.

“As if yours isn’t. Besides, don’t you need to study first?”

“No, no, no. Haven’t you heard of positive reinforcement? Incentive first before the hard work!”

For the next two weeks, Naruto came over with ramen packs and Sasuke would help him with Math classes. On the last day, he accompanied Naruto to school as the blonde submitted his requirements.

“Thank you, personal tutor. Because of you, I have passed my make-up classes and can now enjoy the remaining days of summer!” Naruto punched his fists in the air, invigorated by his academic freedom. “So what are your plans?”

“Leave me alone. That’s your payment.” Sasuke quickly said, followed with a sigh. His social battery was down, and he believed it was already swimming in negatives.

Naruto yelled a greeting to someone and damned if Sasuke knew who it was, but he was suddenly being dragged into a baseball field. Naruto had quite the strength, and Sasuke just knew he was lifting weights in his free time.

“Mind filling in? We’re just short for two in a practice game.”

“Yes, I mind,” Sasuke said without missing a beat. “Naruto, I hate you.”

Naruto gave him a very worn-out mitt while he swung the batt over his shoulder. “Just one game. I’ll have ramen delivered to your apartment.”

Sasuke released a sigh again. What a drag.

The players settled in their respective places, Sasuke stayed on the pitcher’s mound, and Naruto was the batter. The catcher signaled him to release the ball. Relying on his muscle memory, Sasuke pitched a curve ball towards Naruto, and the blonde easily hit it towards homerun.

“Sasuke! Great pitch!” Naruto ran towards him with his arms ready for a hug but Sasuke dodged the attempt.

“What a monster pitch. Are you sure you don’t want to try out?” the second years asked. Naruto was obviously very taken with the sport and didn’t miss the chance to start talking with the members. When the question was asked, he turned to Sasuke with a silent plea in his eyes, but Sasuke knew it wasn’t the place he can belong in.

“You have Naruto. He seems to be a great batter, don’t you think so?” Sasuke said.

“Well, if it came from the genius Uchiha Sasuke, then we gotta take Naruto in.”

Sasuke waved goodbye to Naruto who decided to stay for the remaining of the practice game. He didn’t have the energy to feel sorry for himself, having been left alone again by someone who found a better place. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t like baseball. It was his brother’s favorite game.

------------------------------

“When is Itachi coming back?” He kept on rolling the car windows up and down on his side, sick of the sights of the endless sea and the cliffs. “Why does he need to go to England when there are good schools here?”

“That’s where the best medical program is, Sasuke. Your brother is just chasing his dreams.” His mother turned to him from the passenger side. “When he graduates, let’s all go visit him in Oxford.”

“Let’s have him pay for our Euro trip,” his father jokingly added.

His father was a careful driver – his eyes never left the road, he rode with a constant speed that was neither fast nor slow, he was careful with blind curves. In his lifetime, he got a parking ticket once when his wife’s water broke in the office, and he haphazardly parked across the lane to quickly get to her and ensure the safe delivery of their youngest.

His father was a careful driver, but others were not. A motorcycle shot out of nowhere while they were turning on a blind curve. The car veered to the other side facing the sea and the cliffs, the tires sliding forward and then downward, loud thumps as if repeatedly beaten by waves on rocky shores, and finally a loud crash.

Sasuke was disoriented. The sun was setting on the ocean, but he smelled gasoline instead of the salty air. He had an inkling his forehead was cut because the blood was hindering his sight. He heard grunting noises and pained screams from his parents, but he didn’t know if they were still in front of him or under him, but he felt someone pull him out of the car.

Thank goodness all three of them were still alive.

“You’re bleeding. Sasuke, Sasuke, here a handkerchief.” His mother’s face was cut across, and her one eye was gouged out. She firmly put the bloody handkerchief in his trembling hands. “Go, put it on your forehead.”

His father. Where was his father? He was already lying down on the sand. That was weird. Weren’t sand supposed to be gray? Why was it red? Why was it bloody red? His father’s one hand was on his side, the red water flowing through his fingers’ tight clasp. He reached out his other arm to Sasuke’s leg, patting it reassuringly. “Are you okay, son?”

His mother was coughing now. And then there was a loud explosion. It was deafening and roaring and then Sasuke heard nothing.

He heard nothing but waves for the next twelve hours. Maybe he was just asleep, and this was just a long nightmare. Then the sirens came.

Sasuke woke up drenched in a cold sweat, his mouth dry, and his heartbeat convulsing in its own chamber. He probably screamed again. He checked the digital clock on his bedside table, and it blinked back eights at him. “What a useless thing.”

Regardless of the time, he slipped into his sweatpants and hoodie and made his way downtown. He saw a café with cream puffs on display and decided to order one as his dinner. Just tonight.

“Hello, good evening. What are you buying?” A cheery voice greeted him on the counter.

He quietly pointed at one plate of cream puffs. “And one iced latte for dine-in.” There was a flash of recognition when his eyes met those of the girl on the counter.

She was dressed in the usual neutral black and white get-up of café employees, her hair was black and cropped short below her neck, she had light make-up on – it was a good disguise to throw off her scent, but her emerald eyes were a giveaway.

“Got that.” She brushed this off so easily that he thought he imagined the previous scene. Never mind, he didn’t even want to ask. His demons were enough to occupy his headspace. He stood silent, looking aimlessly at the handwritten menus while she prepared his coffee. “Here’s your order. Thank you.”

He took the tray containing his cream puffs and latte from her hand. When he grazed her palm, he basically got the confirmation he needed. She was a hard worker. He quietly slid on the loveseat at the end of the café with the clear view of the passing crowd and streets and consumed the sweets he ordered from time to time. His stomach was grumbling; he might have missed dinner and he still didn’t know what time it was.

Yes, noise is good, crowds are good. In them, I can be no one. He didn’t know how long he was staring outside. When his hands strayed to the plate, his cream puffs were already gone and his latte almost halfway there. She was also sitting in front of him, out of her work clothes but still in disguise. They just sat there in silence as the café started taking final orders and closing some sections of the place.

“Tough day?” Sakura was looking outside the window when she asked this. He initially thought she was avoiding him, but it was apparently for his own sake. With her looking away, he was allowed to be vulnerable.

“Bad dream,” Sasuke replied, taking up her invisible offer. He swirled the latte and regretted not getting a pure espresso to keep himself awake for the rest of the night.

“Hmm, that explains the sweets and caffeine, but that’s no good.”

He didn’t want to go back yet to his apartment. He wanted to lose himself in the crowd. “I’ll also walk myself to exhaustion.”

“Just aimless walking with no particular destination in mind, huh? Did that too one time and arrived home with an intense stomachache.” She took something from her bag and pushed it across the table with her eyes cast downward. “Something to fuel you on your journey tonight.”

“That’s no good – skipping meals.” Sasuke pushed the untouched bento box back to her side.

Sakura pushed it all the way to his hands, her eyes still never meeting his. “Too late for that now. It’s twelve midnight, and I’ll go home to rest while you’ll still be walking for God knows how many miles until sunrise. E-A-T.”

“Don’t you charge for outside food?”

“Silly, you have me. Now finish that so I can go home.”

Sasuke opened the bento box, holding no expectations to the contents because any proper meal was sumptuous to the appetite of a hungry person, and as he ate, she watched the passing crowds and a few minutes later, the burst of fireworks in the night sky. It was the culmination of the town’s summer festival.

She accompanied him in easy silence until he finished eating and pushed the now empty bento box to her side. She didn’t move from her place, her eyes still glued on the sights outside, so he took that as his cue to leave.

He made the mistake of looking at the window and saw her reflection looking at him leaving. He held her gaze through that and sincerely conveyed his feelings. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him and waved him goodbye.

The lights went out in the café when he stepped outside, and while he started to walk aimlessly, her eyes followed his back, a stranger in disguise wishing him comfort from the dark.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 3

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 09

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 4.2k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: A Christmas present for you all! This has been my favourite chapter of Flower so far so I hope you all enjoy it too! Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think in a comment or ask!

; Flower Masterpost

-

The knock on your front door causes you to pause, clothes in your hand as you put them into your washing machine. You’d been frantically cleaning for the last hour, tidying up your already clean apartment to make sure that it all looked good. When you’d run out of stuff to clean, you’d resorted to washing your clothes early. 

Just for something to do while you waited.

But now he’s here. Hoseok is here. At your apartment, for the first time. You’d been to his a few times now but he’d never been to yours. That had been your fault because you simply just hadn’t invited him. It hadn’t entered your head to do that. Not until Chungha got exasperated and pointed out that perhaps he’d like to see where you lived too.

She must have been right because Hoseok had eagerly accepted and so here you were. You’d finished work an hour and a half ago, the time spent since waiting for him to finish and head home to grab his stuff before coming to yours had given you plenty of time to fulminate.

Not only was Hoseok coming over to yours for the first time...but he was going to spend the night. He’d come up with a plan to drive you both to an amusement park a few hours away tomorrow, but it required getting up pretty early. As a result, you’d just blurted out that he could stay with you.

You could tell that he’d been a little shocked at your proposition, not because you were suggesting he stay but because it was you who was suggesting it. He probably hadn’t expected you to propose that for a while yet.

Especially not when you had plans to let him sleep in bed with you too. You’d discussed it with Chungha and Soyeon in depth, wondering whether you should make him sleep out on the couch for the night. They’d been adamant that you couldn’t do that given you were dating, and you’d been together for two months so why not just let him sleep next to you?

If he remained as polite as he’d been, he wouldn’t be putting any moves on you. 

The easy way you’d said yes to it and suggested it to him told you, and everyone else who knew you, that you really wanted him to stay over. To sleep next to you. Honestly, it had one of your fantasies. Alongside the sexual ones, sometimes you just thought about him holding you in bed, cuddling with him.

Tonight you were going to get to experience that.

Quickly putting the rest of your clothes into the machine, you pause for a moment as you wonder if it’s stupid of you to be washing your clothes. But you push the thought of the way as you add powder and detergent before turning it on. A final glance around your small apartment lets you see that everything is as clean as it’s going to get and you take in a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt.

Opening the door slowly, you smile at Hoseok as he stands there waiting, a backpack over his shoulder and a bright smile on his own face. “Hi...err...sorry, I was putting my washing on. For some reason. Err...come in.”

He laughs softly as he enters, toeing off his shoes and carefully placing them on the rack you have set up next to the door without even being asked to. Moving forward through the tiny hall, you gesture to the living room and attached kitchen with a nervous movement.

“Errm so...this is the living room, obviously. And the kitchen. The door you just passed is the bathroom and the other door is my bedroom. It’s not very big,” You feel yourself heat up in embarrassment as your hands twist together. “I mean...I can still barely afford it but it’s home at least.”

Hoseok looks around slowly, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the decor of the place. You weren’t allowed to put things on the wall so the only decorations were on the bookcase in the corner, your television stand, your couch, the coffee table and the drawers next to the bookcase. Looking around, you take it in the same way he does.

A fluffy throw in slate grey is draped over the couch, covering both the back and the seat cushions while an array of interesting cushions and plushies cover it. Your Pusheen plush sits in pride of place but there’s also a bao bun with a smiley face, an overly cartoony calico cat stretched out along the back and a Jack Skellington face on the couch as well. 

Other plushies dot the room as well, from the set of Pokémon on the bookcase which included all the Eeveelutions you’d carefully collected over the years and various Pokéball’s to random cute ones and even a Pac-Man. Amongst all of that, was other stuff you’d collected; a range of animal shaped hand creams, a bunch of tiny Harry Potter chibi snow globes, some Funko POP figures featuring Disney characters along with a Totoro clock.

Random lights were currently turned on around the room including the PlayStation logo light, the Mario Mushroom light and a Yoshi egg. Part of you cringed as you took in how...colourful and pretty everything was compared to Hoseok. It looked so...delicate next to him.

He was stood there in black ripped jeans with a Guns n Roses shirt on, his tattoos the only thing that matched the room really. And yet he didn’t look disgusted by it, instead he just looked fascinated. Moving forward, he looked over the various books, Blu-Ray’s and video games you’d collected over the years along with the tiny Totoro figures that almost made up a little set.

“Oh my god...this is literally you in a room.” He marvelled, eyes wide as he took in the light shade that covered the light bulb hanging in the room. It was simple, just a curved circle but it was navy blue with tiny circles cut into little rockets and planets. When you turned it on, which was rarely, it made the room light up with a space theme.

“Err...yeah...I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot.” You apologise, rubbing at your forearm as you feel the swirl of negative feelings within you start to bubble. Already you’re regretting letting him into your home, into your safe space. This was where you felt most comfortable, where you felt happy. You only let people in that you trusted, and after two months you were pretty sure you could.

But it was still overwhelming, letting someone into the very private part of you and letting them see what made you happy.

“Don’t apologise, this is great. You’ve seen my place, it’s barren compared to this. I like it. It’s nice. Feels...cosy.” Hoseok said with a bright grin, white teeth flashing as you glanced at you before looking into your kitchen with eager curiosity.

The cuteness extends into there too, sweet woodland themed animal print oven gloves draped over the oven handle while a whole array of cute magnets cover the fridge along with pictures and important notices. A Totoro egg timer sits next to a little polka dot flower pot on the window sill while a cat themed calendar is propped up on the microwave.

A soft meow combined with pressure on his lower legs causes Hoseok to jump slightly, looking down before he grins even bigger. “Oh hello there! You must be Kasumi! Your mommy has told me so much about you.” He croons in a high pitched voice, the kind people only use on babies or animals.

But you can see the delight in his eyes as she sits in front of him, her cream fluffy coat combining with her dark paws and ears alongside astonishingly azure eyes to make her look like the prettiest cat ever. You were pretty sure that she was a ragdoll cat, which meant it was even more shocking that you’d found her in a shelter as a kitten. 

She observes Hoseok for a moment longer before meowing sweetly at him, pushing up to butt his hand with her head and he coos as he crouches down, stroking and talking absolute nonsense to her. You get the sense that he’s just fallen in love at first sight with your cat, the smile on his face bigger than anything you’d seen as she flops to the floor, belly presented and batting at his hand playfully.

“I’m gonna steal your cat.” He teases, looking up at you with playful eyes and you snort, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Over my dead body. She loves me anyway, right Kasumi?” At her name, her ears twitch and she looks at you upside down, letting out a soft mewl as her loud purrs reach you. You grin and crouch down, arms open as you make kissing noises to her and she immediately jumps up, rushing over to you. Standing back up with her in your arms, you smile smugly at Hoseok and wonder why on earth you’re suddenly competing with him over the affection of your own cat.

It looks like the thought runs through his head as well as he shakes it before walking over to you, dropping his backpack past you onto the couch before he places his hands on your waist. Leaning close, you feel your shoulders rising at his attention and he chuckles quietly.

“I guess I’ve got some competition then, huh?” He murmurs before kissing you, the gesture ever so gentle. It’s nothing intense, yet it fires you up in ways you’d never really considered before. Here, in your home, with your cat in your arms and your boyfriend kissing you, you feel happier than you can remember in recent memory. It feels...almost normal.

Hoseok pulls away quickly, smiling as he looks you up and down with a raised brow. “Can I go change if you’re in your pyjamas already?”

His tone is ever so slightly teasing and you look away, pressing your face into Kasumi’s soft fur to avoid the embarrassment.

“Yeah...sorry. I don’t...I don’t see the point in wasting clothes when I’m at home. Pyjamas or die you know?” He snorts in response, kissing your cheek before grabbing his backpack again.

“I get it, I’ll be back in a minute.”

-

It turns out that Hoseok’s pyjamas are just...his normal lounge clothes apparently. A pair of plain black sweatpants is combined with an overly large Star Wars shirt, a few holes in both items that cause you to raise a brow in amusement. A far cry from the matching set of pyjamas you’re wearing; a set of Marauder's Map leggings combined with a black shirt and a gold Hogwarts crest.

“You can tell our personalities just from what we’re wearing.” He looks up from his phone, brows raised before looking between you both with a lopsided smile. Without a word, he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him tightly.

Body stiffening automatically without you even meaning, you force yourself to relax in his embrace. You still weren’t used to the open affection Hoseok lavished on you, the casual touches of his not normal enough for you to accept openly like you did with your friends and family. But you were getting there.

You just wished that you could extend the open affection to him in the same way. It was hard though, you weren’t naturally open to physical gestures like that. Normally you just accepted them, but you wanted to discover to be open with him.

Because as you melted into his arms, you realised that you really liked this.

“What are you trying to say, huh? That I’m ratty and old while you’re young and put together?” He teases, squeezing tightly while rocking you from side to side, putting just enough pressure that you have to stagger back as you giggle against his chest.

“No! I mean...you are older than me…” 

“Excuse you! I’m only two years older than you! Hardly Hugh Hefner here.” Hoseok protests, his voice loud but you can hear the playfulness in it. It makes you happy to hear that, knowing that he’s going along with you.

“You’re right...you don’t have as much money as him. I’m missing out.” At that, he leans back enough for you to see his face, his jaw dropped while he tries to stop a smile from spreading. It causes you to grin in response, squeezing him tightly in response before you press your face back to his chest. “It’s okay though, you’re pretty.”

“Wow...okay. Does that make me the Playboy Bunny in this situation?” You snort, hands lowering without even meaning to and making him jerk in surprise as you squeeze his ass without even thinking. The very ass that your friends had teased you about weeks ago.

“How do you look with bunny ears and a tail?” 

He moves away at that, eyeing you suspiciously as he bites his lower lip, the flesh disappearing between his teeth. “Let’s never find out, shall we?”

“Awww. There’s people who find that kinky. They get dressed up as animals and stuff. Sometimes it’s just...they just wanna dress up but sometimes they dress up and it’s like...they wanna have sex in those suits.” Hoseok just stares at you in disgust, looking away before nodding slowly.

“Sounds great. I’m never doing that. Just want you to know,” he pauses, looking up at the ceiling before cringing and shrugging. You’re suddenly reminded of that woman trying alcohol meme as he makes a considering face. “Okay maybe I’d try it once if you were into it but I don’t think it’s for me.”

You steadfastly avoid his face at that, body heating rapidly at the thought of him thinking about having sex with you knew he probably had. If you were thinking that way about him, then there was no one way someone like him wasn’t thinking that way too. And it was a very strange sensation to know that he wanted you like that.

So you just gestured to the couch, watching as he sits down and scoops Kasumi into his lap. A quick phone call gets you food ordered from your favourite Chinese place, Hoseok stating his preferences to you as he flicks through Netflix and strokes the fluff ball he’s holding.

The next few hours pass by in a food coma bliss of delicious food combined with both of you starting a show on Amazon instead called The Boys. It had surprised you both with how violent and gory it was yet you enjoyed it thoroughly, much to Hoseok’s amusement. Maybe he thought your love of cute things meant that you didn’t like that kind of stuff but you enjoyed it just as much.

You both made it through three episodes before you found yourself getting tired, it was nearing 11pm and as lame as it made you sound...you were someone who went to sleep a bit earlier than that. It amused Hoseok when your head started to loll onto his shoulder, the pleasant warmth and comfort of his body as you cuddled up together lulling you into drowsiness.

Which was why when the episode finally ended, he stood up and gently pulled you up as well. “Come on sleepy, I think it’s time for bed. Sometime’s tired.” He was using that voice that he’d used on Kasumi earlier, and part of you wanted to protest it but you were too drowsy to bother. So instead, you went around the room after shaking his hands off to turn off all the lights.

Hoseok went to the bathroom while you did that, telling you that he was just going to go to the toilet and brush his teeth. By the time you had finished cleaning everything up and throwing the empty Chinese cartons away, he was standing a little awkwardly outside your bedroom.

Smiling, you opened the door and let him in. “You can go in.”

He gave a little smile before heading in and pausing as he looked around once more. Your room was barely big enough for the double bed in it, one side pressed up against the wall while a bedside table rested next to it. A wardrobe was next to that and a chest of drawers along with a mirror. 

“Err...sorry...it’s a little cramped.” You say quietly, rubbing your arms nervously once more and he just shakes his head at you with a small sigh that sounds more amused than you’d expected.

“You need to stop apologising for everything. It’s fine, honestly. Don’t stress yourself over it.” He heads over to the bed and looked down at it, teeth clanking against his lip ring as it looked down. “I’m gonna guess that you sleep on this side?” 

Pointing at the side closest to the bedside table, you go to nod before realise he’s being rhetorical. It was blatantly obvious which side you slept on, given the other side was covered in a large array of plushies. From more Pokémon to a Star Wars teddy, Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon, a cute cat face, a fluffy llama and so much more. 

The side Hoseok would be sleeping on was covered in them and you cover your face in dual embarrassment and horror, realising that you’d blatantly forgotten to clean it off for him. “Err...yeah. You can just...put them on the floor or something. Sorry, I mean…” 

You cut yourself off from apologising again at his look but he just smiles and shrugs. “It’s okay, I’ll sort it out.”

Quickly, you leave the room to prevent any further embarrassment for you. Sometimes you really wondered why Hoseok stayed with you given how different you both obviously were. The thought made your chest hurt and you pressed as it, frowning as you did your own nightly routine. It took a little longer than Hoseok’s as you had a whole skincare routine to go through and so ten minutes later you walked back in with a face mask on.

He was lying on his back, pillows propped up behind him as he looked through his phone and you noted with amusement the little ice cream plush that was still situated next to him. In fact...he made the most bizarre image laid there.

Your bedding was white, with tiny rainbows ending in clouds interspersed with yellow stars and little cartoons unicorns and pegasus that jumped and frolicked. You liked your bedding to look as cute as everything else, only it looked childish with him in it now.

His tattoos look at complete odds with it all, dark hair pushed back and making him look even hotter than ever with it all messed up. He looked dark and brooding in your bed, anathema to your bedding and it was both adorable and bizarrely attractive. 

A sudden thought rushes through your head that one day, if everything goes right, you’ll be having sex with him in that bed. Cheeks heating, you quickly rush forward and sit on the bed carefully, plugging your phone into the charger before looking back over at him.

“Do you need your phone charging too? I have another cable and plug.” You offer and he lets out a noise, head turning towards you before his eyes finally pull away. When he finally notices your face, he jerks away in shock before his face contorts and he squints at you.

“The fuck is on your face? Are you cosplaying Michael Myers or something?” Hoseok mutters, leaning forward a bit and looking you over. You try not to laugh, not wanting the face mask to move and you push at his face lightly.

“Don’t make me laugh, you’ll ruin it. It’s just a face mask, my night routine.” Laying back on the bed, he pulls a face at you.

“You do that every night? Isn’t it tiring?” You shake your head, checking in your Twitter feed as you wait for the time to pass until you can take it off again. “Is that why your skin always looks so pretty? Or is that makeup?”

“Hoseok! I haven’t worn makeup the last three times we’ve met up. You haven’t noticed between that and makeup?” He just stares at you for a moment before shrugging, his hand suddenly running along your back in slow and steady movements. It feels like electricity moves through your body as he does so, but you can’t tell any sexual intention behind it.

“I feel like no matter what I say here...I’m going to get myself in trouble. So...I will be smart and say that you look beautiful with and without makeup.” His smile is boylike then, making his entire face look far younger than he actually is and you sighed softly in defeat, shaking your head before checking the clock on your bedside table. “Why does your clock look like that?”

You pull off the face mask and throw it into the small trash can underneath the table, gently patting at your face to get the excess moisture to absorb. Glancing at the clock, you note it’s unusual shape and size while the orange numbers glow.

“It’s one of those clocks that simulate sunrise to help make it easier to wake up in the morning. I struggle with feeling tired and in winter I never want to get up. Err...I tend to get a little...or a lot...depressed with it. So I got this because daylight is meant to make you happier so ten minutes before my alarm goes off, it starts to light up and simulate a sunrise. It works pretty well in fairness.” You finish, rubbing your cheeks before grabbing the next step of your routine.

“Really? Huh. Cool.” He hands you his phone once you’ve finished, turning onto his side watching you intently. The attention makes you feel warm inside and finally you’re ready to go to bed, lifting the covers and cautiously sliding in next to him. It feels warm and comfortable as usual, your pillow and bedding maximised for comfort.

Reaching over, you turn off the lamp, leaving you both in darkness. The room feels oppressively silent at that moment before you realise that you can hear his breathing next to you. Suddenly, you feel hyper aware of his every movement and sound, your own body stiff beneath the covers.

A few minutes pass by like that, you unsure what to do now and too tense to sleep even after feeling so drowsy earlier. And then suddenly Hoseok reaches out, his hand resting on your stomach tentatively before stroking gently when you don’t react.

“You’re so tense.” He laughs softly and you feel the need to apologise again. But you hold it back, knowing that you have no reason to apologise. Hoseok knows by now what you’re like, he’s aware of your shy and awkward nature and he must know how out of your comfort zone you’re feeling right now.

Which is why you appreciate how slow he moves, his hand spreading heat through your stomach as his slow movements lead you to relaxing ever so slightly. He keeps doing it, his breathing just as hypnotising and you find your eyelids fluttering shut as the earlier drowsiness comes back.

“Can you turn over? On your side?” Hoseok asks softly, hand pausing and it takes a few seconds for you to acknowledge what he’d said. But you do so, shifting lazily until your back is facing him and your head is pressed comfortably into the pillow with your hand slotted beneath both pillows.

And then carefully shuffles up behind you, a warm and heavy weight sliding around your waist as he wraps an arm around you. Pulling slightly, he tugs you into a more comfortable position and you’re suddenly wide awake again. Even though you’ve been cuddled up with him before on a couch, it’s somehow completely different now that you’re lying together in bed.

Every bit of his front presses to your back and you’ve never been so aware of someone else. He feels like a furnace behind you, though you’re not sure if that’s because he actually is warm or if it’s because your body is burning hot. But you like it, as nervous as it makes you feel.

Your limbs feel like you could go outside and run a marathon yet the idea of leaving the bed is so far beyond you. His warm breath gently puffs against your neck as he settles a little more and you swallow hard, forcing your body to relax as you get used to the feeling. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept next to someone, and you’d never felt comfortable with them.

But you do with him. You do with Hoseok.

And without even realising it, your wandering mind begins to drift off as you lay there comfortably, feeling safe and content about everything. 

[vannahfanfics]

A Bright New Year

Category: Friendship Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Class 1-A, Eri

Izuku fidgeted as he hid behind the sofa. He’d been crouched there for ten minutes, and his calves were aching, but that’s not why he twitched relentlessly. No, his body simply couldn’t process the sheer amount of happiness and excitement he was feeling right now. His emerald curls and eyes peeked above the back of the sofa, gleaming gaze trained on the front door, where little Eri was due to walk in any moment. 

I can’t believe we’re gonna celebrate Eri’s first new year!

When the girl had informed them at their dorm Christmas party that she never recalled celebrating the new year with her family, Class 1-A had scrambled to plan a party so that the little girl could experience the holiday in all its glory. They’d prepared oodles of traditional food and snacks, organized party games, and each pitched in to grant Eri over two thousand yen in New Year’s money in pretty red-and-gold envelopes Momo had procured. 

Thus, there they were, hiding in various spots across the common room armed with party poppers and rolls of streamers. As the lock clicked, they sucked in a collective breath in anticipation. As soon as Eri’s blood-red eyes and silver hair toddled across the threshold, they sprang from their hiding places, poppers booming to spill confetti in the air and streamers arcing over the furniture. 

“ Happy New Year! ” 

Eri jumped back into Mr. Aizawa’s legs with a startled squeak. It took her a moment to register what had happened, and a confused smile slowly bloomed on her small, round face. 

“Is… Is this for me?” 

“It sure is!” Izuku confirmed as he walked around the couch. He leaned down in front of her with his hands on his knees. “We all got together so we could celebrate the new year with you, Eri. We have tons of fun stuff planned for you. Would you like to participate?” Izuku thought to ask because Eri still dealt with social anxiety issues, though attending the school festival had loosened her up considerably. Her eyes were wide as she swept her gaze across the smiling faces (and Katsuki’s attempts to look friendly). 

“Yeah… I want to have a New Year’s party, Deku!” she nodded brightly. Izuku’s grin widened, and he stood up to offer her his hand. She wrapped her tiny hand around his first two fingers, and he led her over to the coffee table, where Ochako was sitting on a cushion. 

“Would you like some mochi, Eri?” Momo offered, seated on another cushion. Eri looked at the provided squishy rice cakes curiously before tentatively poking one. She released a delighted gasp as it yielded to her light touch and left her finger coated in sugar. She sucked on it thoughtfully, smiling at the sweet taste, before picking one up and biting into it. 

“It’s delicious!” she squealed. Izuku plucked up a piece of mochi and passed beside her to sit on the sofa, watching warmly as she enjoyed the treat. When Eri noticed the scraps of paper situated on the coffee table, she cocked her head to the side curiously. “What’s this?” 

“It’s a game called fukuwarai . Would you like to play, Eri?” Ochako said. Eri finished off her mochi as she nodded, sitting down on the cushion between Momo and Ochako on her knees to reach the table. Ochako explained the game to the little girl, who concentrated very hard on the pieces of paper as the elder girl told her she had to arrange them into a face while blindfolded. 

A bright smile adorned Izuku’s face as he sat tucked against the corner of the couch, nibbling contentedly on his mochi while Ochako slipped a blindfold over her big, ruby eyes. Izuku snickered as the silver-haired girl looked around blindly, squeaking as the cloth covered the upper half of her face. As she tentatively reached up to lift the bottom up and take a peek, Ochako tutted scoldingly. 

“Eri! You can’t peek,” Ochako reminded. Eri obediently dropped her hand, and the older girl critically inspected the fabric to ensure that it was adequately covering Eri’s eyes. Then, she gently helped Eri scoot herself up to the edge of the table. The little girl’s hands began to fumble over the pieces of paper scattered over the wooden surface. 

“How am I supposed to know where the parts go if I can’t see?” Eri whimpered as she picked up a cut piece of paper in the shape of some lips. Ochako giggled sweetly as she sat back on her heels and used her cell phone to film Eri’s first attempt at playing fukuwarai . While still holding up the red construction paper mouth, Eri used her free hand to carefully feel around for the large oval piece of paper that marked the face. “Why can’t I look?” she despaired, and as she looked to where Ochako was, Izuku could imagine her little eyebrows furrowed in duress. 

“That’s the rules, Eri,” Izuku piped up from the sofa, stuffing the rest of the mochi in his cheek. He slipped down off the cushions and settled himself cross-legged beside her. Eri’s head swiveled to cast her blindfolded gaze upon him, her hand groping at his sweater. He picked up one of the highly-stylized eyes, deformed courtesy of Denki’s craftsmanship, and smiled down at the perturbed child. “That’s the fun of it— making silly faces! It’s not about being right or wrong— it’s about having fun.” 

Her little lips pursed thoughtfully. She then regarded the lip-shaped construction paper again with her blind gaze. Carefully, she prodded at the oval-shaped paper again before carefully setting it down somewhere in the cheek area. Izuku covered his mouth to smother his giggles. 

Piece by piece, Eri assembled the craft. It was so hard not to laugh at the immense look of concentration on the girl’s face even with the blindfold as she fumbled to arrange them sensically, but it still ended up a slightly disoriented collage. When she lifted the blindfold, she pouted at the strange arrangement she had produced. As tears of shame brimmed in the corners of her eyes, Kyoka snatched it up and held it up beside Denki’s face. 

“Hey, doesn’t it kinda look like Denki when he goes all ‘yay’ mode?” she laughed. 

“Is that any way to talk to the guy charging your phone?” Denki griped, but when he saw Eri’s distraught expression, he sighed. He dropped Kyoka’s phone to grab the side table lamp, discharging all his energy to it. As he slumped dumbly into the couch, stupidly grinning and droning, “yayyyyyyy,” Izuku had to admit there was a striking resemblance with Eri’s handiwork. 

Thankfully, Eri burst into giggles. 

“It does kinda look like him, I guess,” she smiled shyly as Kyoka handed the artwork back to him. When Mr. Aizawa sauntered into the room to check on Eri, she hopped up to trot over, eyes wide as she regarded the older man. “Here. I made this,” she said as she offered it to him. “It’s a… A fuku— fukuwa… ” 

“A fukuwarai ,” the adult finished with a small smirk. He inspected the paper with lidded eyes before smiling warmly and handing it back to Eri. “I would say that’s fridge-worthy. Why don’t you go hang it up?” 

Eri squealed in delight and ran off to the kitchen, where she secured the paper to the refrigerator with a magnet. As she ran in, Katsuki came sauntering out, brushing his hands off on his apron and scowling. 

“Oi, losers! The soba’s ready!” He barked loudly. He glanced down when Eri shyly peeked up at him around his legs, blinking her big red eyes. “What, squirt? You want some soba?” When she nodded bashfully, he steered her around by the shoulders and marched her back inside. She waddled out a few moments later, humming contentedly as she spooned the buckwheat noodles into her mouth. She came over to sit on the couch next to Izuku, who had resumed his previous position. Half the class was now involved in a very competitive game of karuta , and Eri occasionally giggled as Tenya got too excited and flung the cards around in his haste. 

“Are you having fun?” Izuku asked Eri later after she had discarded the empty noodle bowl onto the coffee table. He was shocked to see her reclined against the couch cushions, eyes lidded and smiling in sleepy contentment. 

“Mhmm,” she mumbled drowsily. “‘S the best new year ever.” As soon as the words had left her mouth, her eyes closed entirely, and her head slumped over into Izuku’s shoulder. Smiling, he grabbed a throw blanket and wrapped her up in it, then laid her down with her head resting on one of the throw pillows. 

When he got up to get a drink from the kitchen, he paused to admire the fukuwarai hanging on the refrigerator. Eri had signed her name in bright red crayon in the corner. Izuku grinned widely as he appreciated the clumsily strewn-together pieces of construction paper and thought of the sleepy smile Eri was still wearing as she snoozed on the common room couch. 

I’m gonna make next year a bright one for you, Eri— and the next one after that is even better, and even better after that. After all, that’s what heroes do. 

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[faerune]

💘 + leon and cassie 🔫 now

also asked by @ottobooty!

where they first met and how hot local racoon city survivors in YOUR area want to fuck! no for real, cassie had holed up in a diner with a group of other survivors and prior to leon getting to the police station he helps cassie fix/find parts to load up an old delivery truck in the back alley to get them all to safety. when leon leaves cassie promises to come back and make sure he + claire have a ride out of town and she does appear in that last shot in her shitty little happy dairy truck like hey you guys look like you need a ride.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved cassie has always been kinda of a flirt just offhandedly and i feel like leon is kinda of the same way just he’s cheesy and awkward about it when he’s a little younger. they flirt during the couple months they’re all trying to get their bearings after racoon city and then don’t really stay in touch much until the gov drags them both in separately. 

after that more flirting, some undercover missions and zombies and leon finally asks her to dinner. cassie teases ‘don’t expect me to put out on the first date just because you saved my ass today’ pft.

who fell for who first cassie will never ever admit it but it was her. like hard. she fell for leon like she was carrying a drink carrier full of hot coffee across a busy intersection in new york, tripped off the curb in front of hundreds of people and slammed her knee into the pavement.

where their first date was and what it was like dinner and a movie! cassie loves film but also is not a snob and adores laughably bad movies so they went and saw a goofy ass B action movie and then went to a late dinner at a diner that they always eat at after work.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ) leon just pretty simply says let me take you to dinner and cassie teases ‘oh are you asking me on a date kennedy?’ and he just shrugs and goes ‘yeah. i am’ cassie admittedly gets like flustered for half a second and she’s like. okay cool fine.

who proposes first cassie. she’s been so weird and avoidant about getting married so leon has always let her bring it up. when they get back together a few months later they’re laying in bed together and cassie is like can you propose to me now? and leon is like well do you wanna be surprised or do you want the ring now? and cassie just smiles and plops her head on his chest and is like ‘surprise is okay’.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away due to their jobs and them being afraid of having each other just be another thing people hold over their heads to keep them working there, they keep it really quiet at the beginning. everyone on their team kinda knows but they aren’t announcing it everywhere.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ) leon takes her out to dinner and then they take a walk in the park! they sit on a little bench all lit up by the winter christmas lights and he gets down on one knee :’)

if they adopt any pets together absolutely! i just have not figured out what kind yet! probably a cat because cassie has cat person energy.

who’s more dominant it kinda flip flops. cassie is more dominant in terms of talking to people, making decisions but in terms of progressing the relationship that’s definitely leon. in terms of some more ahem other times cassie’s a brat and leon just wants to give her whatever she wants.

where their first kiss was and what it was like they’ve kissed on undercover missions before but i’m not sure if it really “counts”. their first kiss as just leon and cassie was when leon dropped her off at her place after their date and cassie pulled him down for a kiss. after they finished leon was smiling all dopey and still kind of leaning down to her and she just smirked at him and wished him a good night.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ) sdgjksdg i can see them at the most having like a set of cute matching mugs but that’s about it. cassie would die before wearing matching sweaters with him no matter how much she loves him.

how into pda they are they hand hold/give each other pecks/leon throws his arm around her shoulders while they walk but they’re not too obnoxious about it! cassie likes it but if he tries to do anything else she gets flustered. admittedly, leon kinda loves when she does so he’s always whispering sweet stuff in her ears while she tries to elbow him in the stomach sdklgsdg.

who holds the umbrella when it rains leon!! he’s taller so it just makes sense.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is the diner where they just always got dinner cause it was near the facility where they worked together for so long! they both have never been to DC so they just went to the nearest place after their first day and they were like so this is OUR diner.

who’s more protective leon. cassie is very annoyed by it pft. especially when she pops up during the civil war. ya know. in the middle of an actual warzone with possible biological weapons. cassie: :) im here to cause problems on purpose. leon: why in the FUCK is my ex here armed with a thousand dollar camera and a tiny pistol.

how long it is before they sleep together they almost sleep together the day before their second date, making out on leon’s desk but they get interrupted and they’re like okay we gotta chill. leon arrives to pick her up for their date and cassie yanks him into her bedroom. needless to say they miss their movie.

if they argue about anything they bicker playfully but also cassie accuses leon of not treating her like an adult who can make her own decisions because he’s so fucking overprotective. leon accuses cassie of being careless with her life. they have i guess..not arguments but debates over morals?

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ) leon leaves hickeys like he’s a teenager but he’s usually good about keeping them in places that can’t be seen. cassie wears red lipstick a lot so leon has to pay extra attention if they sneak away at work to make sure he doesn’t have it smeared all over his lips. she likes to kiss his cheek and leave a big mark too.

who steals whose clothes and how often cassie: not your hoodies babe, our hoodies.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ) they are spooners through and through. cassie needs to be held and leon is happy to do it. 

what their favourite nonsexual activity is watching movies together! leon is happy that cassie wants to share all her favorites with him and they have movie nights.

how long they stay mad at each other leon normally just needs a second to cool down normally but cassie holds a grudge for a day or maybe two then she’s ready to talk. but uh...in terms of big betrayals leon gives off the im not angry im disappointed and betrayed and you hurt me energy loud and clear and takes a long time to forgive and settle. it’s the worst cassie has ever felt.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are cassie gets a tall black coffee (iced or hot depending on the season) and leon likes lattes with whipped cream and carmel.

if they ever have any children together yes absolutely! i haven’t decided on names or anything yet but they definitely have two little boys just because that tweet that’s about that dad and two lil boys getting out of the car and the dad goes “who can go hug mom the fastest?!” is THEM.

if they have any special pet names for each other pretty normal ones! baby, babe are the most common. cassie likes to say honey and dear sarcastically because she thinks those make her sound like she’s a 50s housewife but secretly kinda likes calling him honey.

if they ever split up and / or get back together hah UH yeah. cassie leaks information about completed STRATCOM ops and leon eventually finds out and they have a huge fight. leon leaves the next morning and they end their relationship. he doesn’t turn her in because he still loves her and knows she did it with goodness in her heart but he’s just so conflicted. he just basically says turn in your resignation and leaves. they do eventually get back together! they break up early 2004, see each other in 2006 when cassie reaches out to him for his contacts to help her father who gets sick and then in 2011 they’re present in the civil war in the east and they get together after reconnecting through that.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like they meet each other’s parents for the first time! they invite them over for dinner along with cassie’s sisters and nieces and nephews. it’s VERY chaotic but it goes really well. leon’s mom loves cassie. uhh cassie’s dad scares the shit out of leon just because he’s a Jokester and lives for freaking leon out because he’s so obviously very nervous lmao.

what their names are in each other’s phones leon’s phone has cassie as “cassidy 🖤”. cassie has him in her phone just as “baby”. bonus she has his name in her phone the few days after they decide to have a kid as “sperm donor”. leon goes “cassie” in his disappointed voice and she rolls her eyes and finally changes it.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ) at the moment just their friday movie nights and whenever they go out of country on a mission they buy a magnet for their fridge!

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first leon usually falls asleep first and wakes up first. cassie usually stays up late on her laptop researching and writing.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon leon is big spoon 80% of the time but he likes to be jetpacked too!

who hogs the bathroom leon after he gets back from a really gross ass mission takes hours but cassie usually hogs it day to day.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside cassie flips out and leon gets a cup and a piece of paper, puts the little guy outside. there have been multiple occasions where it sounded like cassie was in legit danger and leon came skidding into the bathroom only to find cassie standing on the toilet.

[purplesurveys]

1195

survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

—:: Who ::—

... was the last person you saw face to face? I passed by my brother last night when I had to go to the kitchen to fill up my tumbler.

... was the last person you texted or messaged online? Angela; I was just asking her for the difference among A4/A5/A6 since I’m now planning to buy a binder and sleeves for my rapidly increasing collection of photocards and postcards. It really frustrates me that A4 is the biggest one and A6 the smallest :((((

... was the last person who asked you for a favour? Kata, my manager. She filed a half-day leave last Friday to get herself and her family vaccinated in her town, so she had sent me over a very long to-do list of deliverables that she asked me to fulfill while she was out. Eventually she ended up filing a whole-day leave since she felt feverish after being under the sun all day, and also possibly from side effects of the vaccine, so I ended up carrying the entire workload for the day. I like Kata and she’s a very easy person and superior to work with, so I honestly couldn’t complain about it.

... was the last person you lent something to? Ooh, I don’t remember. I don’t really lend people things.

... was the last person who told you a secret/confided in you? Andi was just sharing to me their worries about taking the LAE (scheduled for today) and how they’ll be okay if they don’t pass.

... is the tallest person you know? Jo is like 5′7″ and we all look like beans when standing next to her. One of my uncles is also very tall; around 5′10″ or 5′11″ if I’m not mistaken.

... the shortest person you know? I think Aya? That’s just a smart guess, though; I haven’t seen most of my friends in more than a year.

... your oldest (in years) friend? Mik is turning 28 this year. Sometimes I forget just how much older he is than me since we vibe really well together during the rare times we did get to hang out. I’m still bummed we never got that smoke break we wanted to have.

... is the oldest (in length of time) friend? Angela.

... is your youngest friend? Hannah was born in 2000. Peter was born in 2001 but we aren’t that close yet.

... is your newest friend? I haven’t made any new friends recently. Stan Twitter is lonelier than I thought it would be; everyone is already friends with everyone so it’s hard to break that space. Not to mention everyone is also grossly younger than I am – I keep seeing profiles with ‘2004′ on their bio :/ I should start making an effort to look for older ARMYs lol, I definitely feel like I’d have more fun that way.

... is your closest relative? My eldest cousin on my mom’s side, my Kuya.

... was your favourite teacher? My music teacher from high school. I neeeeeever liked music as a subject and it was never a priority of mine, but she always kept our classes something for me to look forward with her advice and the way she was always able to make lessons interesting.

... was your least favourite teacher? Those who made it clear they didn’t like me, even though I didn’t do anything to deserve such hostility.

... did you spend the most time with when growing up? My siblings and cousins since we all lived together at one point.

... knows you the best? My two best friends.

... always beats you in games or sports? Andi would probably be able to beat me in any game. They just let me win because they know I can be a sore loser.

... who is the most creative of the people you know? My family is pretty artistic and I have a lot of talented relatives - my sister and my cousin Maggie paint and draw; my mom can make any kind of craft she wants, with her hnds; and one of my grand-aunts regularly does paintings. I think all of them are amazingly creative in their own way.

... is the funniest person you know? Probably Andi. Hans makes me crack up too.

... is the most organised that you know? My mom.

... that you know has travelled the most? My dad. Both our fridge doors are filled from top to bottom with magnets from places he’s travelled in due to his line of work. He’s toned down quite a bit in the last few years and has taken to staying within Asia, but back then his traveling history was super expansive – Germany, Jamaica, Italy, Belize, Aruba, Italy, France, Monaco, Denmark, Norway, the UK, US, Estonia, Portugal, etc.

... has always been there for you? Angela never left my side.

... has given you the most personal gift? I can’t possibly pick, my friends are pretty good at giving me gifts...like Andi getting me a Petals For Armor CD and a Punk shirt that hasn’t been produced in a while, and Angela giving me a personalized Friends mug because she knows I like my coffee and she knows I like Friends.

... has an annoying laugh? I don’t think anyone I know has an annoying laugh.

... never forgets a birthday? That would be me.

... do you live with? My parents, my two siblings, and our two dogs.

...,do you have the most in common with? I’m not so sure about this one, actually. I share bits of my personality with a lot of people - like me and Jo liking BTS, me and Andi liking wrestling, Blanch and I having similar personalities, me and Laurice being super meticulous when it comes to our work, etc. - but I haven’t met anyone who’s virtually a duplicate of mine when it comes to my traits and interests.

...is the sportiest person you know? I’m also not sure. Most people I know are into watching a bunch of sports, but none of them actually play.

...was your last missed call? It was an unknown number that I kept ignoring because THEY WOULDN’T TEXT WHO THEY WERE. If you have enough load credits to call me multiple times, then surely you can text me and introduce yourself first, and maybe then I can pick up the phone.

...did you last open your door for? My sister knocked last Friday because someone wanted to talk to me via landline. It was weird since no one calls via the phone anymore, but I have a gut feeling it was that ^ same person who had been trying to call me through my phone but never texted me. Eventually I learned it was one of the bloggers I’m talking to for work who just wanted to ask a few questions about our ongoing engagement.

... has your heart? Kim Taehyung. Expect the same answer for this type of question moving forward.

... has your respect? I gotta hand it to Tina for consistently doing well in her studies and excelling in every subject while doing photo and video editing for two orgs, working on her thesis, and being a board member in our mutual org, all while living alone. She does so well I wish I can tell her to give herself the occasional break to avoid burnout.

...do you share a special song with? I don’t think I have that with anyone.

...do you miss right now? Literally allllllll my friends.

...last made you angry? It’s been a while since I’ve directed my anger towards another person. When I get pissed off these days it’s usually over a situation that goes awry or out of my control.

...did you last buy a gift for? So this was not technically meant to be a gift, but what happened was I accidentally secured two orders of the same poster set, which was a part of this new BTS photobook coming out later this month, from two different shops. One of the shops merely posted an ‘interest check’ for the poster set so I signed up for it thinking it was harmless, but when they got back to me they already attached an invoice :/ I ended up having to pay for it just so things won’t get complicated between myself and the shop anymore; and I told Angela she can just keep the extra set I bought and that she can consider it a gift.

...did you celebrate your last birthday with? My family and technically my workmates since I didn’t file a leave that day. I also had food delivered to their house so I guess that can count as my ‘celebration’ with them.

...have you gone to a concert with? I went with Angela for my first Paramore show.

...can make you laugh? Anyone can tbh. It’s not very hard to make me laugh.

...has taught you how to do something? Nina taught me how to embroider and do basic needle/thread skills back when I was still getting into the hobby.

...has lost something of yours? I am almost certain my ex never kept the handwritten letters I used to write her. She never seemed to remember or bring up the things I wrote.

...has broke your heart? Gabie but I’m over it.

...has stood you up? Hasn’t happened to me before.

:: What ::

Is your favourite colour? Pastel pink.

Can you do that most your friends can’t? Type fast, apparently.

Is your birthday? April 21.

Colour eyes do you have? Dark brown/black.

Form of transport do you take to work/school? I work from home. But under normal circumstances I would drive my car.

Music do you like to listen to in the car? I connect my Spotify to the car’s Bluetooth and listen to whatever artist or playlist I’m into at the moment. The music I put on could also depend on my current mood for the day.

Languages can you speak? Filipino and English. I’ve also been able to pick up looooots of Korean phrases and expressions because of the amount of content I watch. I’m nowhere near fluent, of course, but I’m increasingly able to pick up what people say based off a few Korean words I’ll hear in a sentence.

Was the last thing you drank? Continued from idk. I finished off my glass of water from dinner.

Was the last thing you ate? My mom made pasta.

Time did you wake up this morning? Depends on how late I slept the night before and how tired I was, but it usually ranges between 5:45–7:30 AM.

Colour are your bedroom walls? They’re white.

Drink do you usually order when eating out? I never order drinks unless I’m at La Creperie, in which case I always get their San Gines hot chocolate; for everywhere else that isn’t a bar, I just get water.

Food can you cook well? ...I can’t cook.

Animals have you had for a pet? Dogs, rabbit, lovebirds, goldfish, and technically a cat but she was mostly Nina’s.

Are your initials? RC.

Kind of activities do you like to do on the weekends? I’m still kind of stuck at home during the weekends :/ so I can’t do much, but I’m not complaining since I actually prefer staying in these days. Anyway, most recently I’ve taken to catching up on BTS content I’ve missed over the last 8 years, so I like watching shows they’ve done like Bon Voyage, Run BTS, etc.

Movie do you know line by line? Two for the Road, TITANIC, and probably most of White Chicks.

Band(s) have you seen in concert? Paramore, One Direction, a bunch of local bands.

Do you buy/get to treat yourself? It’s usually food - I like giving myself a feast every Friday night - but I’m putting that in the backseat for now as I’ve realigned my money to be spent on BTS merch. My big purchases are saved for the albums for now, but every now and then I’ll see a postcard or photocard I like and buy them. Once I complete the albums I’ll be moving on to the concert DVDs, then the special packages, then probably BT21 plushies. Needless to say I have a longggggg way to go haha.

Colours your phone cover? I have a clear case.

Part of the world would you love to visit? Another continent would be nice.

Question do you dislike being asked? Even though I know people mean well, I don’t like being asked “How are you?” but tbh it’s more of a me thing because I just never really know what to say.

Subject were you good at in school? History.

Careers do your parents have? They both work in the hospitality industry.

Brand of clothing do you buy most often? For clothes clothes I’m not really loyal to a particular brand; I buy from different brands and shops all the time. But for shoes, I like sticking to Nikes.

Chocolate bar is your favourite? Not a big fan of chocolate bars. I love Reese’s Cups, though.

TV show have you watched every series of? Friends, Perfect Strangers, Breaking Bad.

Radio station do you listen to the most? It’s a little hard to tell at this point considering I haven’t driven regularly in over a year. But back when I used to do it, I usually flipped among 93.1, 99.5, and 87.5.

Podcasts are you subscribed to? I’m not the biggest fan of podcasts. Find them a tad bit boring.

Is your favourite dessert? Macarons or cheesecake.

Can’t you do that most around you seem to? Ride a bike.

Are 5 qualities you value in a friend? Loyalty, thoughtfulness, honest, sensitive to my needs and those of others, and intelligent.

Are 5 qualities you value in a partner? ^ Pretty much the same thing.

Size pizza do you usually order? Family size usually.

Cuisine do you like to order or cook? I’ve been getting Japanese so many times recently. I rarely go outside sushi.

Colour(s) dominate your wardrobe? Black and white, and colors that were in at one point like mustard yellow and pastel pink.

Toothpaste brand do you use? Colgate.

Sounds can you hear right now? My insanely loud aircon.

Is the weather like today? Like hell. I believe we’re reaching a heat index of over 50ºC every day now, so...that’s fun. It gets absolutely difficult to work in the afternoon when the temperature is at its most brutal, and its times like this I wish I got to work in the office so that there’s aircon and I could at least work comfortably :/

Are your plans for tomorrow? Just work and have tons of meetings, the usual.

:: Where ::

Do you keep your phone when not using it? I keep my phone near me even when I’m not using it since I could always get an important notification.

Were you born? Manila.

Do you go to unwind? Most days it would be the rooftop, but under normal circumstances I like staying at a coffee shop somewhere to escape life and my responsibilities for a short while.

Is your best friend right now? I believe they’re both at home since they have no reason to be out anyway.

Can you go nearby to have a good time? Personally, I would just go to the Starbucks near our village lol. If I’m feeling a bit more adventurous I’d head to Katip, which is prrrretty close by but not quite.

Is the nearest restaurant? We have a McDonald’s literally right beside the village. Then besides that is a Shakey’s, and right across that is a Burger King, then the aforementioned neaby Starbucks. Just makes me realize how urbanized my town has gotten in the last few years.

Is the nearest beach? If I had to guess, the nearest beaches would be in Batangas which is 2-3 hours away, but it really depends on how fast you can drive lol. I’m not too good with long car rides so in both times I’ve driven there I had always taken 4 hours.

Did you meet your closest friend? I met Angela in grade school, and I met Andi at a local rally in my university.

Did you go for your last vacation? Tagaytay, though it was a staycation more than anything else.

Is the nearest mall or superstore? It’s like a 3-minute drive away from the village.

Did you last get an injury? I have loadsssssss of new scratches and gashes all around my wrists from playing with Cooper.

Is the most extravagant place you’ve stayed at? It’s a toss-up between Aids’ or Gian’s house. Gian would probably win since I never actually got to go inside Aids’ place, and his was the first house I’ve been to that was able to literally take my breath away. OH and Shaun’s house was pretty fucking swanky as well.

Do most the local kids play? I would have no idea since I’m neither a kid nor a parent.

Have you been with your family? This is a very vague question lol...what do you mean where have we been? We’ve been to different towns around the country and several countries together, if that’s what you’ve been asking.

Did you spend Christmas last year? We visited a couple of relatives, and we also spent it at home.

Did your parents grow up? My mom grew up within Metro Manila; my dad in a city a little outside of it.

Did you buy the shoes you’re wearing? I’m barefoot at the moment and always am at home.

Would you like to go right now if you could? If life had still been normal I would probably be having after-work drinks at a bar near the office.

Do you miss the most from your childhood? I’m not sure how to answer this with where.

Is the best restaurant you know? I’m still searching for it.

Will you never go again as it was so bad? It’s not that it was bad, but I’d probably never dine at 8Cuts again because their burgers are not worth the hype and are very overpriced for their size.

:: When ::

...was your last vacation? My family’s last legit vacation was in August 2019; but we did have a quick escape to Tagaytay in January of this year.

...did you graduate? I officially ‘graduated’ from college in August, if you could even call it that.

...did you decide what career you wanted? Somewhere between my 2nd and 3rd year of college. That was when I decided I hated journalism and preferred PR, but since PR is under journalism’s umbrella there was no need for me to shift courses.

...did you have your first kiss? Continued. Like WHEN when or how old was I when? In any case, it was in January 2015 and I ws 16.

...did you learn how to swim? Idk, pretty early on. My parents liked taking us to water parks when we were younger, so we had a lot of exposure. I’m not sure if there was ever a time where something just clicked and I learned how to swim; I believe it had just come naturally.

...did you have your first relationship? By the end of 2014.

...did you meet your best friend? I met both of them in school, but at different points.

...do you feel the most at peace? Probably when I’m able to stay at the rooftop all alone.

...do you usually fall asleep? I’ve readjusted my body clock now (I used to want to be in bed by 9 or 10 PM, lmao) and I stay up until anywhere between 12-2 AM on weekdays.

...do you usually wake up? Ranges between 6-7:30 AM.

...did you last watch a movie? September.

...did you last go to a party? Around Februaryish, 2020.

...did you last cry? I can’t really recall. The last moment I can remember was crying over Life Goes On sometime last month, when I heard it for the first time. I’m just not sure if that’s accurate or when exactly in April that happened.

...did you laugh really hard? I always have a good laugh at least once a day.

...did you buy something pricey last? Idk what you would count as pricey but I bought the new BTS photobook set when it dropped back in April. Cost me around ₱3750. I wasn’t able to buy from the first press (it sold out in like 7 minutes lol) which included an exclusive poster set, so I had to look for a local shop that was already offering the poster set separately, and ended up shelling out another ₱2200 for it...which means all in all I spent around ₱5950 for it or roughly $125.

...did you have an argument last? Earlier this evening but I don’t want to get into it as it made me cry from sadness and frustration for the first time in months.

...did you last have a sick day? May last year.

...did you last recieve a hug? I have no idea. February, I think? when I hung out with my friends.

...when is your best friend’s birthday? July 22 or September 15, depends on which best friend.

...did you learn how to drive? I started getting lessons when I was 17, but I didn’t start feeling comfortable with it until I turned 18.

...did you last receive a surprise? Around a couple of weeks ago when my dad came home with Jollibee for us.

:: How ::

Many pets do you have? Two.

Many houses have you lived in? Three that I can remember, but I know my parents moved around a bit when I was a newborn.

Often do you shower? Every morning before my shift. I hate feeling sweaty and icky when I report for work.

Well can you cook? I can’t at all.

Many close friends do you have? I have two people I count as my absolute best friends, but I have a handful of close friends as well.

Many Brothers or sisters do you have? One of each.

Often do you go swimming? I don’t swim much at all, really...I haven’t done it since 2019, so that should say enough. As relaxing as it is, I feel like the clean-up afterwards can be such a challenge lol. Like if you swim in a pool you have to rigorously wash the chlorine off of you; and if you swim in the sea you have to also be thorough about making sure you’ve removed all the sand from your body.

Many times have you texted today? I don’t think I texted today but I did spend my whole day on chat platforms.

Do you like your toast (colour, topping)? I don’t have super particular preferences; I just like mine on the burnt side.

Do you like your tea and/or coffee? My coffee has to be sweet for me to enjoy it. I can take black coffee/Americano; I’ll just wince a lot with every sip. No tea for me thanks.

Do you like to celebrate your birthdays? With a lot of food.

Are you feeling today? A little frustrated because of an argument incident this evening. But I’m shaking it off and just focusing on the release of Butter tomorrow. My first BTS comeback!!!

Serious are you about your career goals? Very.

Many rooms are in your house? In total, 9.

Many bedrooms in your house? 4.

Did you do in your school exams? I was never consistent. I slacked off a looooooot in grade school; couldn’t give less of a shit about my classes then. I got a bit more hardworking in high school, but I still was a bit lax and I allowed myself to not put a lot of effort in subjects I didn’t care a lot for and that I know I would never have to use in real life, like chemistry or accounting, so there were exams I really excelled in and others that I would fail. It was only in college I started taking my studies incredibly seriously and I believe that showed in the grades I eventually got.

Close do you live to your parents? They’re like, five steps away.

Close do you live to your siblings? My sister’s literally in the room next to mine.

Sensitive to criticism are you? I know it’s something that can never be avoided, so I’m always open to hearing them, especially if it’s meant to help me. It doesn’t mean I enjoy it as it is being given.

Motivated to make changes are you? Depends on my mood and mindset. 

Creative are you (1-10): -0.5.

Hard working are you (1-10): Probably a 22 if I really put my head into a task.

Sporty are you (1-10): I dunno, maybe a 6? I do like playing table tennis, but I’m pretty meh at any other sport.

Musical are you (1-10): 0.

Do you prefer your eggs? Runny yolk; scrambled; or a really packed omelette.

Often do you go out to eat? Before the pandemic, I liked eating out 2-3 times a week.

Would your best friend describe you? Not sure, I never tried asking them this. I hope it’s all nice things, though.

Can someone cheer you up if you’re sad? Send me photos of V. Hahahaha

Often do you meet up with your friends? ...What do you think? D:

Important is religion to you? It is not a part of my life whatsoever.

Old were you when you first stayed overnight from home? 15 or 16, I can’t really remember.

Old were you when you got your first pet? I was maybe 6.

Tech savvy are you? I know enough to survive my own, but I obviously can’t hack into other computers or things like that.

Do you show you appreciate those you care for? Buying them food.

Often do you cut your hair? I only take a trip to the salon once a year.

Often do you paint your nails? Never.

Many countries have you visited? Six.

Boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Just one.

:: Why ::

... did you choose your username? Because it was straightforward.

... did you take this survey? I like surveys made in categories, and this seemed interesting and varied enough.

... did you choose the career you did? I found that I enjoyed it MILES more than journalism.

...did you last leave the house? I had to go to a local LBC for a work errand.

...did you last give up on something? She wasn’t worth the effort anymore. She hadn’t been for a while, but it took me forever to realize.

...did you search the last thing you searched? I wanted to sing along to the song but it was in Japanese, so I had to look up its lyrics.

...would you give up on someone completely? Oof, I guess you can refer to one of the previous questions. ^

:: If...::

You could live in any country which would you choose? Canada.

You could choose any animal as a pet which one? I’m perfectly content with dogs.

You could be famous for something what would you like? Being known for a funny tweet would probably be enough lol. I have no desire to be famous.

You are sad, how do you combat it? I don’t really get sad anymore these days, so I can’t super remember the go-to tactics I depend on...I guess I like listening to sad songs and allowing myself to wallow in the sadness, because I know I have to accept and process my feelings first before I can be able to calm down.  

You can drive when did you learn? I learned shortly before I started college, when I was 18, because no one was going to be able to take me to university when the school year started.

You could have any job what would it be? Idk, I like the one I have now.

You could go anywhere for a vacation where would you go? Somewhere with a completely different feel and atmosphere, like Norway, Sweden, Finland...that part of Europe, basically.

You could eat anything right now what would it be? Samgak gimbap :/

You wrote a book what genre/topic would it be? It would be a book of essays or maybe a memoir.

You had a theme song what would it be? Idk I don’t really think about this.

You could meet any band/singer in person which one? Billie Eilish seems awesome and easy and fun to talk to.

You could act in any movie which would it be? No thanks.

You get married what venue would you like? Hotel.

If you have kids do you have names picked out? I have one name picked out for a girl but that’s it.

Could describe your dream home what would it be like? Brutalist and minimalist, with large windows, cove lights, and a lot of white space.

You could go back in time what would you change? Break up with Gab earlier.

Could use 3 words to describe your childhood which ones? Could’ve been better.

Could get the answer to any question which question would you choose? When I would die and how, just so I can have peace of mind.

You could have an endless supply of something what would it be? Money, because of course.

Meet anyone who no longer lives who’d you choose? My great-grandfather, mom’s side.

:: Can ::

... you ride a bike? No, never learned.

... you ski? I’ve never even seen snow, so no.

... you bake a cake? I can try but it will probably be very clumsily made as I don’t bake.

... you sing well? I wouldn’t say that. I like singing when I’m alone, but it doesn’t mean I’m any good.

... you do your own taxes? I’ve never tried haha so I guess not.

... you remain calm in a crisis? Depends on how serious it is.

... you do first aid? Let’s just say I wouldn’t volunteer if it comes down to it because I feel like I’d commit one fatal mistake that would make the situation graver. 

... remember your best friend’s family members’ names? Both of their families, yes.

... you fire a gun? I’ve never tried so I doubt it.

... your parents drive? Yep.

...your best friend dance well? They’re not ‘dancers’ per se but sure, they can bust out a move or two.

...you make people laugh easily? Not everyone, but sure.

...stand up for yourself? That’s what I’m trying to learn these days.

...you do a martial art? No.

:: Would ::

You like to learn a new language? That’s always a welcome opportunity.

Save the life of a stray animal? Absolutely.

Know what to do if there was a hurricane? We have several ones come in the country every year so yeah, I can definitely say we’ve long been well-prepared for them.

Try a new cuisine? I do this as often as I can.

Risk your life for anyone? Yes.

You like to get back in touch with someone? No, I’m good now.

You drive in the middle of the night to get a stuck friend? Ina heartbeat.

You Know how to perform CPR? In relation to the first aid question, I wouldn’t volunteer myself in case I make a wrong move.

You likely win in a game of chess? I don’t even know how it works, so no.

You stop talking for a day for $100? Easily.

[maknaesdancersrappers]

kinkmas2019: a little jealousy

member: Taeyong

warning/s: zelophilia, cunnilingus, blindfolds

wc: 4.7k

a/n: This is 14ways!Taeyong so the girl is technically Jangmi, but for the sake of kinkmas, I’ll be using the y/n format. 

Since the very beginning, it had always been Taeyong worrying about someone new coming along and taking you away from him; it happened in middle school with Seungcheol, it *could have* happened in high school with Jaehyun, and now that you’re both in college; it was bound to happen any moment now. He should have gotten used to it now; it’s something you had no control over. You were a boy magnet, you were naturally charming and kind — on top of that, beautiful. You were also incredibly oblivious to subtle flirting because you always liked to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, so Taeyong is sure that even though guys who he assumes are your classmates are simply talking to her, he knows for a fact they’re trying to hit on her; the stance, eye contact, movements — it all gave it away.

But what he didn’t expect were other girls getting attracted to him.

You weren’t surprised about it; Taeyong had always been insecure and made himself seem less of anything that he actually is. When he told you someone tried to hit on him during freshman orientation, you were almost a little proud because, yes that’s right, this boy is handsome and he’s yours. He was quick to tell you that he had immediately told them he was taken and you brushed it off, thanking him for his honesty instead. You should have known, however, that high school is completely different from college. Some girls won’t just back off a taken man just because they’re taken. For the entirety of your first year, Taeyong got plenty of girl’s numbers being given to him, unsolicited. It annoyed you, but Taeyong always disposed them of them quickly.

When sophomore year came, a few were a little more brazen; outright flirting with him when you weren’t around, inviting him to parties he didn’t even like going to unless you were coming with him. It merely took a couple of nasty glares, regardless if Taeyong is aware or not, from you for them to back off.

But then there was Hana.

She was also in Vet Med like Taeyong. She was in most of his classes, too. She initially didn’t raise any red flags for you because she had her own boyfriend entering college and they seemed to have a strong bond. But then one day she drops him and you supposed she suddenly felt like going after your boyfriend despite knowing he was very much taken and very much yours.

Taeyong used to complain about you being so oblivious to guys making moves on you and you’d always brush him off about it, but now you know and fully understand how he feels.

They’re always somehow partners or grouped together for projects and although Taeyong had never brought Hana to his dorm or agreed to go to hers, they have spent a hefty amount of time together elsewhere to work.

Now, you don’t doubt Taeyong’s loyalty. You know how much he loves you and he’s always doing his best to make sure not to give you a reason to think otherwise. It’s Hana who’s the problem: you don’t trust her one bit ever since you caught her heavily flirting with your boyfriend.

Like now, for example, they had to write a paper about the lab work they did earlier. Taeyong sent you a text message about it; how he’ll be in the library with Hana and a few other classmates. You told him you’d treat them some coffee and made a quick stop at a mini mart to purchase a few cans. When Taeyong said other classmates, you assumed it was the guys he had gotten close with. Alas, it was not. As you stepped on the second floor of the library where he said they’d be, it was incredibly hard to miss the table full of girls, among them was Hana, and at the end of the table where their fawning attention was drawn to was, of course, Taeyong. 

And what bothered you the most about it was that he wasn’t.

Taeyong is notoriously shy, introverted, and oftentimes awkward, especially in such a concentrated group like being the only male among 6 girls. He’d be hunched over and trying to mind his own business, but not today, apparently. He confidently sat up straight, nodding at the conversation, and probably cracked jokes that made the girls giggle. It’s also annoying how you think he looked so hot for it, but seeing Hana glance at you with a devious smirk almost made you bring forth the worst in you.

You suck it up, stride over to them, and made sure you give Taeyong the same sincere, loving smile you always greet him with when he notices you approaching. “Hey, I brought you guys coffee.”

“Oh, [Y/N], you shouldn’t have.” Hana croons as you placed the plastic bag on the table and scrunches her nose at you.

You promptly ignore her, sliding a hand along Taeyong’s shoulder, and played with the little hairs on his nape.

“Thanks, babe.” He rubs his palm on the small of your back, “Do you want to stay with us until I’m done?”

“I wouldn’t want to distract you.” You teased, grinning at how he blushes in embarrassment. “But actually, I have a quick errand to run and it’s near your dorm so I’ll just head there after.”

He nods, “Okay, I’ll see you then.” He moves his hand higher and it makes you feel giddy when you realized he wanted a goodbye kiss. So you leaned down and pecked his lips, ruffling his hair before stepping away from him.

You spare a quick glimpse at the girls; visibly annoyed at the interaction and it only made you smile more. “See you.”

Without even three feet away from them, you hear Hana ask Taeyong, “Taeyong, you should drop by my sorority’s party later.”

“Oh, I should have asked [Y/N]—” 

“What? I’m inviting you, not her. I didn’t know she had such a tight leash on you.”

It took everything in you not to turn around and march right back up to their table. You have full trust in Taeyong that he’d deny that accusation and defend you so you just continued you way out of the library; you try to forget about what Hana said, but you can’t remember hearing if Taeyong had even responded to her at all.

You feel uncharacteristically anxious, pacing back and forth in Taeyong’s dorm room. 

Taeyong didn’t have a roommate so he had a simple studio type room with his own bathroom. He originally had a single bed, but switched it out for a shorter bunk bed type so he could have some storage beneath for his clothes and shoes. He also had a small refrigerator for little snacks and drinks between his bed and the L-shaped desk where he has one side for school and a gaming setup on the other. Taeyong had a pull out sofa bed on the other side of the room for the sole reason you two can sleep together since his bed wasn’t necessarily couple friendly for any… extra activities beside actually sleeping, but he also likes to claim it’s for classmates to sleep on for all-nighters.

It’s a little past seven and you feel like a mom for worrying like your 8 year old son isn’t home yet. He couldn’t have gone to the party, right? Even if he did, he would have at least told you about it because he knows you’re waiting for him in his room.

You debate on heading over to the party yourself, thinking how in hindsight you’ll seem like the possessive girlfriend Hana is painting you to be in, but fortunately, you throw that option out the window when the door opens. Taeyong walks in with a paper bag from your favorite restaurant, sending you an apologetic smile as he toes his shoes off.

“Hey, are you hungry already? I thought I’d buy us dinner already, but the line at the restaurant was so long.”

You let out a sigh of relief, taking the small laptop table from under the sofa and placed it on top to use as a makeshift table. “I’m starving. I thought we were going to order together.”

“My phone died on me.” He puts the bag down and you start to set it while he walks over to his charger to plug his phone in. “Sorry. Did I worry you?”

“I felt like a mom.” You confessed, taking the lids off of the containers, “Ahhh, these smell amazing.”

He sits across you, handing you a fork from his limited kitchenware collection he kept on top of the mini fridge. He stabs a chicken finger and takes a bite out of it before asking how your day went. Simple moments like these reminds you of how domestic your relationship with Taeyong has become. You’d have meals together either in his dorm or yours, you each had a couple of clothes in each other’s closets for when one sleeps over or someone wants to change out of their clothes, and you’ve both reached that stage in your relationship to be comfortable with each other’s bodies so neither of you bothered going to the bathroom or at least turn around to change. Frankly, sex was something that just naturally happened between the two of you; there was no anxiety, waiting, or planning for it to happen. It wasn’t a spur of the moment either; there wasn’t any desperate heavy petting or begging for more in between kisses or naughty fingers touching places that drove you insane.

Dinner proceeds with minimal talking and you insist on cleaning up since he paid for dinner. After you threw away the trash and washed the forks, you return to Taeyong on the sofa bed and yawned as you cuddled his side.

“Sleepy already? It’s only 8PM.” He lightly teases, running his hand over your arm and kissing your hair.

“I dare you to call me old.” You warned, but yawned again and both of your chuckled, “I guess today was a little draining. I can’t believe I’m ready to go to sleep at this time. Is that okay with you?”

Taeyong blinks, his tongue darting out of his lips in contemplation, “Well, I was going to suggest dropping by this party, uh, Hana invited me to.”

You could tell by the faint panic in his face that he could tell you didn’t like the idea. You sigh, “Taeyong, I don’t really like her. There’s just something off about her and she’s definitely got her eyes set on you.”

He chuckles at this, “But she’s well aware that I’m with you.”

“And obviously, that’s not going to stop her.” You frowned, “I can’t tell you who to be friends with, Yong, but Hana and those other girls in the library are clearly interested in you and I don’t really like them.”

“Are you…” He leans away from you to get a better view of your face, “jealous?”

This makes you scoff, “Obviously! They’re snakes.”

Taeyong moves away completely, visibly dismayed by your choice of words. He stands up from the sofa bed and turns to you, “They’re my friends, [Y/N]. Don’t call them that. You’re making it sound like I’d let them take advantage of me.”

You’re taken aback by his reaction; he gets mad at you, he gets annoyed with you, but never at the same time like this. Not in the mood to fight, you shake your head, “Sorry, I just… they rub me the wrong way, okay? It’s not that I don’t trust you with them. It’s the other way around. But... do you want to go the party?”

He lets out a heavy breath, “You’re tired and I don’t want to go without you. Go to sleep, babe, I’ll play a few games and join you in a bit.”

“Are you sure?”

Taeyong kisses your forehead, assuring you he’d rather stay than go. You change into pajamas and go about your nightly routine as he sat in front of his computer to power it on. When you stepped out of the bathroom, he was already halfway through a game and had pulled out the sofa bed for you.

You kiss his cheek, whispering good night even though he had his headphones on. Since the brightness of his monitor bothered you, you put on a sleeping mask and immediately drifted off to sleep the moment your head hits the pillow.

You jolt awake for some reason; you weren’t even dreaming and you don’t recall hearing anything or being shaken to wake up, but something inside of you urged you to push the mask off your eyes and check on Taeyong. It took a second for you to realize what he was doing, taking note of his clothes that wasn’t what he was wearing a while ago, “Where are you going?”

Taeyong jumped, snapping his head towards you with large eyes; a textbook example of ‘a deer caught in the headlights.’

You glanced at the wall clock and frowned, “It’s 10PM… where would you go—”

Then it hits you; the change of clothes, the quiet movements, the surprised, guilty look on his face. You push yourself up, “Are you really sneaking out to go to the party?”

He licks his lips, shrugging his shoulders, “I, well… Hana keeps texting and insisting—”

“Hana,” You snapped, inhaling sharply, “I just told you awhile ago that I don’t like her and that she likes you! Why would you even keep texting her after that?”

“I’m just gonna drop by! One drink and I’ll leave! You said you trusted me.”

You sneered, “Yeah, 2 hours ago when you said you won’t go because I didn’t want to but now you’re sneaking off while I was asleep! You even changed clothes! I ought to think you’re impressing her.”

He stands up, abandoning his lacing his shoes up entirely and glares, “I’m not trying to impress her! She’s a friend and she wants to hang out!”

“Why do you think she wants to hang out, Taeyong?! She’s trying to get under your skin — specifically, get in your pants! She’s constantly flirting with you.”

“Well, I’m not going to flirt back! Now you know how I feel about you and other guys! What I’ve been feeling since we were in middle school and we weren’t even dating back then! It sucks, doesn’t it? Watching the love of your life attract other people and make you feel inferior and jealous?”

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” You retorted, “Is that your intention? To get me worked up and jealous and be the possessive girlfriend Hana and those other girls are making me out to be? Then fine! Go to her stupid party and every second that you’re there, remember that your girlfriend is home alone and seething with jealousy because her boyfriend is at a sorority party where there are guaranteed half naked girls getting drunk left and right who don’t give two shits if the guy they’re flirting with is taken or not.”

Without letting him say another word and not wanting him to see you tearing up, you pull the sleeping mask back down your eyes and lay back down, curling on your side and pulled the blanket over your body.

You hold your breath, waiting for the sound of the door to open and his footsteps walking out. Instead, you feel the bed dipping by your hip and a hand rubs your thigh. 

“I don’t like it when your upset.”

“Too fucking late, Yong. Go away.”

You feel him kiss your shoulder and you shrug him off like a child.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I guess I caught up in the moment of having all that attention on me. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that it was Hana and the girls, but it was because I got noticed by somebody else. I’ve been a wallflower all my life, you know that. But still, I’d never choose anyone else over you, [Y/N].” He kisses your shoulder once more and you don’t move. “It will always be you, okay? Trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he sighs against your skin. “You don’t trust me anymore?”

“I do,” You quickly say, “I do… I’m just hurt.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry. Hana was taking advantage of me before either of us knew. I’m sorry.”

You sniffed, sitting up with his help and pushing the mask onto your forehead. You pensively stared at him, bottom lip just slightly jutting out into a small pout. He smiles at you, taking your hands into his and squeezing them.

“You know,” He whispers, “You’re rarely jealous and seeing you all worked up was hot.”

This makes you let out a half-scoff, half-chuckle, shaking your head with disbelief. You don’t respond, though, resuming the silent stare-off until he finally leans forward and kisses you on your lips. He hums a little, moving his hands up your arms and slid one hand to cup your face. He tilts his head to one side and runs his tongue over your bottom lip repeatedly, silently begging for entrance.

You pull away, leaving him to chase after your lips. Without leaving each other’s proximity, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry, too.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Taeyong smiles, the corner of his lips curving up slightly, and he kisses you once more before slipping the sleeping mask back over your eyes. There’s panic and dismay in your chest, thinking he’s urging you back to sleep so he could still go to the party, but then he whispers, “Keep the mask over your eyes, okay?”

You’re confused, not knowing how to respond. Suddenly, you feel him kiss your neck and you flinched away. He chuckles, the soft, warm puffs of his breath hitting your skin.

“Taeyong?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Biting down your lip, you shake your head and you feel him kiss you neck again, more bold and wet. The blanket over your body is stripped off and his hands slip under your shirt, warming his fingers against your body heat. You mewled out his name, arching your chest towards him in silent suggestion. Taking the hint, he moves his mouth over your breasts, kissing them over your shirt. As you’re not one to sleep in bras, he easily had access to your boobs, palming them gently under your clothes.

Pushing your shirt further over your torso until your chest is exposed to him, he tweaks one of your nipples and sucks the other into his mouth. Blocking off your sight has definitely heightened your other senses; almost sensitive to his touches. You always liked watching him, sometimes the two of you shared strong eye contact as you pleasured one another.

Taeyong switches to your other breast, but moved his hand downwards, slipping into your shorts and panties. You let out a soft gasp when he cards his fingers along your wet folds. “Mmm, are you turned on by this, [Y/N]?”

You were. Immensely so. You’ve never complained about your sex life with Taeyong and you’ve never thought of putting a label on it, but so far all you’ve done with him was pretty basic — vanilla, if you may. Maybe he was just scared of pushing your limits because the most he’s done was slap your ass raw. But this was a pleasant experience from the get-go and you definitely don’t mind doing it again in the future.

“I need to taste you, baby.” He rasps, dragging his mouth over your abdomen and tugging your shorts down your legs. He gets them off of you and he pushes your legs apart. You waited for his touch, his tongue, anything; but you’re left to shiver as your core was exposed to the cold room.

You started to feel self-conscious, fully are that he’s just looking at you. You would have closed your legs if he hadn’t kept his hands on your inner thighs. “Yong?”

“I just had to admire you, baby.” He speaks up, tracing his fingers closer to your core. “So fucking pretty.”

Before you could react, his mouth is on your pussy, working his tongue along your folds and drilling it over your clit. Again, it feels like your hypersensitive to his touch now that you can’t watch him eat you out. You bring your hands down to his hair, combing through them and lightly gripping every time his nose bumped over your bud. He smacked his lips loudly, making a show of how wet and dripping you were by slurping your juices. He hummed against you, prodding what felt like two fingers to spread your labia apart so he could flatten his tongue over you for a long, slow lick.

“Always so fucking delicious.” He groaned, concentrating his lips on your clit and sucked harshly. This makes you buck your hips into his face, urging him to continue and he gladly does so. You loved how he ate you out; how he worked his tongue over your pussy. It doesn’t take long until you can feel your climax rounding the corner and you’re attempting to push him off as your body begins to quiver.

“Stop, stop!” You whined, “I want to cum on your cock.”

He croons approvingly, “Is that so?”

Taeyong leaves a couple more kisses over your pussy and rubs you with his fingers, presumably to lubricate his cock. You can tell he moves away from you to shed his clothes off when the warmth of his body disappears momentarily. You can vaguely hear the shuffling of his clothes and eventually the sound of his drawers opening before hearing the crinkle of foil being ripped open. You’re very tempted to take your blindfold off but decided against it, patiently waiting for your boyfriend to resume his actions.

The bed dips by your legs and you automatically part your legs further for him. He shifts closer until you feel the tip of his cock poking at your entrance. He runs it along your slit, teasing you for a moment or until he deemed his cock wet enough before pushing in.

A slow, low gasp escapes you; your hands flying to his grip on your hips and sliding it up to his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” He asks, pausing halfway through.

“Yes, yes,” You reply with urgency, nodding your head. “I’m okay, keep going.”

He continues entering you until your hips are flushed against one another and you feel him kiss your jaw, “You take me so well, [Y/N].”

“Please move.” You whimpered, massaging the muscles of his shoulders to coax him. Taeyong pulls out midway and eases back in, repeating the motion until you quietly asked him to move faster. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and presses himself down into you, driving his cock deeper. “—Yong.”

He rolls his hips into yours in a slow motion, languidly thrusting deep into your core. His hands left your hips and glided up to your breasts, kneading them in his palms. You’re curious about how he’s looking at you; where is he focused on? The area where you’re connected? Your mouth perpetually agape at his ministrations? Your chest that he played with? Blindly, you reached upwards to snake your fingers through the small hairs on his nape.

“Only you could make me feel this good, baby,” He grunts, thrusting particularly harder at ‘good’ for emphasis. When he pecks the corner of your lips, you try to face him to kiss him but he pulls away. He moans right by your ear, instantly sending signals of pleasure all over your body, “Only you, baby, only you.”

You feel his tongue tracing your jawline, softly nipping at your earlobes when he reaches them. You began to meet his thrusts, pushing your hips upwards as he grinds down on you and timing when his cock is sheathed inside you before clamping your walls around him.

“Fuck.” He hisses, removing your legs from his shoulders. He lets them fall to the side as he slithers his hands between your back and the bed before hoisting your body up for you to straddle him. Surprised at the sudden change of position, you gasped and hugged his shoulders.

Without a word or another motion, you move your hips accordingly; up and down his length in a pace you had full control. It was definitely a lot faster, causing Taeyong to grab your ass and kneading it rather than guiding your pace. You arch your back, unknowingly presenting your chest to Taeyong, who gladly kisses each of your nipples alternatingly.

The sofa bed is squeaking loudly, accompanied by the squelch of his cock entering your pussy and your soft panting. Your toes began to curl; the tight knot in your stomach slowly unraveling. Sensing your incoming high, Taeyong reaches between you and erratically thumbs your clit. He groans by your ear and you use this as a chance to locate his mouth, latching onto his plump bottom lip and urging him to kiss back, which he obediently does.

You cried into the kiss when your orgasm hits out of the blue, body convulsing and Taeyong just holds you against him, running his hands over your back in a loving manner; as if he wasn’t pounding upwards to help you ride your orgasm out. As your body calmed down, Taeyong lays you down and pulls out of you, leaving the bed. He hasn’t come yet, so you try to remove your sleeping mask off to see what he’s up to, but his voice sternly calls out, “Not yet, baby.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, sitting up on the edge.

“Just threw the condom.”

Before you could question any further, you felt something hot and wet poking your lip. You were confused for a split second until you realized what it was. You quickly opened your mouth, taking Taeyong’s entire length in one go with a long, loud, drawn-out moan at the taste of precum. It drove him wild to hear you like he’s the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth. You covered his hand at the base of his cock, but he doesn’t let go, continuing to squeeze himself. Instead, you bobbed your head a couple of times before stopping at the tip and sticking your tongue out.

It was a guaranteed way to get him off; having you patiently wait for him to cum into your mouth. It’s no surprise that he ejaculates in thick, white ropes of hot cum right onto your tongue and even shooting directly down your throat. Making sure it doesn’t spill, you closed your lips over his sensitive tip, simultaneously sucking as he empties himself.

You swallowed every last drop with a low, satisfied hum after he steps away from you. He takes your blindfold off and goes down on one knee in front of you, waiting for you to adjust your eyes to the sudden brightness.

As you blinked rapidly and focused on his face, you began to tear up and frowned.

“[Y/N]?” His voice is laced with panic and alarm.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, “I didn’t know you feel that way when I’m with other guys. I know sometimes they’re hitting on me, but I ignore them, especially if they already know I’m taken. You can still go to the party if you want to, I won’t hold any grudges.”

“Baby, we just had sex.” He chuckles, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

“Exactly,” You huffed, “You reek of sex. Show them that you don’t need them if that’s what they’re after.”

Taeyong burst into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief, “You’re crazy.”

He kisses you a couple of times, “I’m always going to trust you more than anybody else. If you think Hana’s intentions are sketchy, then I believe you. I’ll be as frank as I can with her when we’re working together, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Let’s get dressed and go to sleep.” Taeyong presses his lips on your forehead, making an obnoxious smack sound that makes you giggle before both of you clean yourselves up, dressed in new pajamas, and crept back into bed.