#Please read this proposal carefully then decide what to do & how to do it. First of all you have to decide that which type of franchise is b

[pinkthrone445]

~I'd do it all over again if you're with me~

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender: little bit of hurt, a lot of fluff.

Warnlings : (+18) strong words, mention of period blood, Fertility Treatments .

Summary:You and Melissa had been married for a while and you decided to have a baby, but things weren't as easy as you thought.

____________________________

It was an open house season at the school where your wife worked, you were fascinated to see her talking to parents and some children, her love for them was natural, there was no one who brought out a more loving side of her than the children. Which made you wonder what she would be like with a child of her own, you knew what she would say, that she was very old to have children and that the stage for that in her life had already passed, but she said the same thing about marriage months before proposing to you.

When Christmas came, you decided to pop the question while she was playing with your nephews

-"THEY ARE SO GOOD, SO GOOD, YOU SEE!

SO I WILL EAT THEM IN A BOX.

AND I WILL EAT THEM WITH A FOX.

AND I WILL EAT THEM IN A HOUSE.

AND I WILL EAT THEM WITH A MOUSE.

AND I WILL EAT THEM HERE AND THERE.

SAY! I WILL EAT THEM ANYWHERE!

I DO SO LIKE GREEN EGGS AND HAM!

THANK YOU! THANK YOU, SAM I AM."-she finished reading the story doing funny voices while the children laughed, bewitched by your wife's charms, just like you were watching her.-"Now go wash your hands so we can eat dessert"-your wife said to the children as they ran laughing, one of your nephews got up and walked over to where she was sitting, the redhead gave him her full attention-"everything all right, little one?"

-"Yes Aunt Lissa"- Your nephew responded and played with his little hands looking at your wife with eyes that would conquer anyone - "Someday you will invite me to your house to eat green eggs and ham? My aunt says you cook very well... Pleaseeeee?"-He pleaded and the redhead laughed, hugging him and kissing his forehead

-"Of course, kiddo, but first go wash your hands so we can eat what we all prepare for today"-the little boy smiled from ear to ear and ran off happily. Carefully you approached your wife and sat on her lap running your hands down her neck, she hugged your waist smiling

-"Hello gorgeous"-she whispered and gave you a brief kiss on your lips

-"Hi... You know, you're always beautiful, but especially when you're with kids, I love to see you interact with them... You look so happy. I wish we had one of our own..." - You whispered against her lips and the redhead let out a big laugh

-"I think it's a little late for that... Instead of a son I'll have a grandchildren if I try to have kids now" - she continued laughing but when she saw your seriousness, she stopped- "oh, you're being serious..."-she looked you in the eyes and you nodded- "love... I'm too old for this, my body isn't the same, I can't have children anymore..."- she whispered so as not to attract the attention of your family who were in the house

-"But we are both women and I'm at a very good age to have children... Tell me this is everything you imagined for our life... Tell me that you didn't imagine a family for us, because I have, many times, I want to have a babywith you. Imagine what it would be like a little you or a little me running around the house, their laughter filling every room, you teaching them to read and how to make me angry, also teaching them how to get out of trouble. Imagine me pregnant, my hormones will be through the roof, which would make things very interesting... I know you don't quite agree, but I ask you to at least think about it, please, for me... Remember how much you love your family, your nana, your sister even though you fight a lot. You love big and loud families, and I'm loud, I know, but our family it's little. You'd be an excellent mom if we do this, please think about it"- you whispered and kissed her lips.

-"I'll think about it, for you" - she answered and you hugged her

-"Thanks..."-You whispered

That was almost a year and a half ago, after thinking about it for a bit, Melissa tell you that she wanted to have children with you, so you started doing everything to start the fertilization. The more the redhead thought about it, the more excited she was to be a mom, because she was going to be a mom with you, have a family with you.

At first everything was very exciting, the treatment, the changes, the care, your hormones through the roof, the excitement of being a mother. But little by little, when the treatment began to fail, it all felt like too much. It was the third time it failed and your body and mind were tired, you didn't feel the same anymore and you wondered if it would be worth it to keep trying, you didn't know if you could take more disappointments.

You were naked in front of the bedroom mirror, your butt and abdomen were full of marks and bruises from the needles of the treatment. You'd done everything you'd been asked to do, you had done strict diets, Mel helped you prepare meals and ate like you so you didn't feel alone, gentle exercises every day, injecting hormones, consuming vitamins, folic acid, you lowered the hours at work so you didn't get so stressed, you slept more. You did everything you were told and nothing worked. This was the fourth time you were restarting treatment and you didn't know if you would be able to do it again if it failed. Your mood was awful, seeing your body so marked with bruises made you angry knowing that it wasn't giving results, going to see Melissa at school and seeing so many children made you sad and angry, not being able to eat what you liked also made you be in a bad mood, the pain you had in your body and tiredness put you in a bad mood, If the redhead touched you, it bothered you, but if she didn't, it also bothered you. It bothered you that even though you were dieting, you were gaining weight, your breasts and abdomen hurt. Everything bothered you. It bothered you that despite all the effort, nothing was working.

-"Here I have the injection, love"-your wife spoke entering the room and stared at you, carefully she approached you and hugged you from behind giving you warmth and protection with her body, resting her head on your shoulder and looking at you through the reflection of the mirror-"you are so strong and so beautiful"-she whispered and kissed your cheek, your eyes filled with tears

-"If this fails once again, I don't know if I'll be able to keep doing it Mel... Everything hurts and I feel very tired, I don't know if I'll take one more disappointment. I know that at the beginning it was my insistence and my idea that led us to this, I know that you have also been excited about being a mom and I still think that you will be an excellent mom, but my body is not working and I don't know how much strength I have left to keep trying"-you whispered crying and your wife hugged you tighter, she didn't like to see you sad or in pain

-"It's okay, I still appreciate everything you've done for us, you're very strong... If this doesn't work, we could look for other alternatives, maybe adopt or we can think about it later, but for now let's focus on finishing this treatment, yes? Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, let's live the present love." - She whispered and you nodded letting her give you the daily injection, closing your eyes because of the pain it caused you. Carefully, she knelt beside you, her lips rested on your skin, kissing each and every mark that was on your body, paying special attention to those in your swollen abdomen making you smile a little, you delicately stroked her hair and sighed

-"Thanks Mel, you always know what to do..."-You whispered and she got up hugging you again

-"It's my pleasure, baby. What do you say if before we leave for work, you get dressed and let's get one of those waffles that you miss so much?"-the redhead commented and your eyes shone with excitement nodding and kissing her happily.

Mel had faith that this time it would work, but her hopes were dashed when her cell phone alarm rang off to work, she quickly turned off the alarm and turned on the bed to hug you and give you a few kisses, so you would wake up in a good mood. But when you moved your body to hug her, a red stain was seen on the bed sheets. It was already the fourth time you had seen this in the time of the treatment, that meant that your period had started and that the fertility treatment was not successful. You sighed, Melissa tried to hug you but you got up quickly to go to the bathroom and got into the shower closing the door behind you. Quietly but quickly, she changed the sheets by putting them in the wash and putting new ones on the bed, she also prepared a change of clothes for you, and then she walked over to the bathroom door. Even though the door wasn't locked, she knocked softly, asking for permission to come in

-"Amore? Can I come in?"-She asked and when you didn't answer her, she came in closing the door behind her. She silently removed her clothes and came in with you, taking the soap and washing your body with a lot of love, so much so that you couldn't help but start crying

-"I'm so sorry Mel, I'm sorry. I really wanted to start a family with you, but I don't know what's wrong with my stupid body" - You said in a trembling voice and she hugged you tight

-"Don't say that, ever. Your body is perfect and you are very strong for doing this. I wanted it too, but there are other ways to get it. I know you're very tired mentally and physically, so let's take some time off and then we'll see how we decide to continue. Do you want me to stay home with you today? We can call your work and mine and stay here, sleeping, watching a movie or whatever you want... I can cook anything you want, Yes?"-You really wanted to stay home, but the next day you had a doctor's appointment. Even though it was a check and you already knew what you were going to be told, you would need your wife's help to do it because you didn't know if you could do it alone.

-"I really want to, but tomorrow I'll need it more, we have the doctor's appointment... And I don't know if I'll be able to miss two days in a row at work... So I'll leave it for tomorrow" - You whispered and she nodded, helping you finish the bath.

Throughout that day, Mel kept an eye on you with messages, brought you food, and also picked you up at the end of work. You were so grateful for her care, but you didn't even feel like breathing at the time, so when you got home you just went straight to bed and stayed there. The redhead lay down next to you and hugged you throughout.

You knew it was difficult for her too, she was as excited as you were and that had hurt her too, and if it were up to her, she would have put her body to keep trying, if only it had been possible. But she saw firsthand how much the treatment had affected you, hurt you, so she would be supporting you through everything even if she was hurting too.

That night the two of you hugged each other and cried yourself to sleep.

The next day Mel tried to wake you up with a delicious breakfast, but your appetite was still non-existent, and you had a lot of nausea and abdominal pain, so you didn't eat. With great heaviness and sadness you got up, your eyes were swollen from crying and the nausea from the treatment had worsened more than other days. You almost burst into tears when you went to the bathroom and saw that you were still getting your period.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the redhead held your hand at all times whispering sweet words while caressing your back with her free hand. When the doctor called you, you were sure that if it wasn't for your wife's help, you wouldn't have been able to get out of your chair, even walking felt too heavy for such a dreary day. You already knew what they were going to tell you, but having it confirmed by a doctor made it more real. You and Melissa explained what had happened the day before, but the doctor insisted on continuing with the tests. When he took out the gel and put it in your stomach, a shiver ran through your body and Melissa squeezed your hand tighter. She couldn't take her eyes off the screen, but you didn't want to see or hear anything, you didn't want the weight of reality to crush you.

-"Can you repeat it?"-Mel's voice brought you back, Why did she want the doctor to repeat something as painful as that the treatment had failed? You looked at her confused and then at the doctor

-"Congratulations, you're going to be moms" - he pointed to the screen, showing a bean-shaped dot-"The treatment worked and your baby is growing as it should, now you will have to have different types of controls and diets, but we will see that later. Congratulations moms!"-the doctor told you and Melissa looked at you while you looked at the doctor

-"B-but what about my period? It started yesterday and it's still going on, I was told by previous attempts that when my period came it meant that the egg wasn't fertilized and that I had to try again or end the treatment definitely" -You spoke nervously, trying not to get your hopes up

-"Was it darker blood than normal? "-He asked and you nodded-"thicker?"-you nodded again-"It's something normal, when the baby settles down to start growing, he lets out what no longer serves him and that's what you're letting out now and seeing on your pads, it doesn't always happen but it's normal. That's another sign that the baby has already gotten comfortable to continue growing"- the doctor spoke and you looked at Mel excitedly, the redhead was smiling from ear to ear and crying

-"We're going to be moms" - you whispered in disbelief

-"We are!" - She said excitedly and hugged you tightly.

The next few months were both exciting and tedious, but it was all worth it. Vomiting, nausea, pain in your back and feet. But you started eating more things you liked, sex was much more pleasurable, your breasts grew bigger, and your abdomen started to grow. Mel couldn't keep her hands away from you, let alone when the baby started to move. Even though it was the sixtieth time the baby had done it, she was as excited as the first time. The two of you took advantage and bought a thousand things to pamper the baby, even the other teachers of the school when they found out, they made a babyshower party for you two.

When the baby was born, you both were happy to see a healthy baby girl, she had your eye color and her hair color, big red hair like your wife. If you thought Melissa looked lovingly at you, she looked at your daughter with love and adoration. The two decided to call her Lissa, because of the end of Melissa's name and how much she looked like her.

Despite everything you two had to go through, it's something you'd do again to see her this happy again and for your daughter to grow up with siblings.

You were certainly not wrong when you said that Mel would be a great mom, nothing made her happier than coming home to be with you and the baby, or when you surprised her and went to see her at school.

Melissa was the one who got up the most times at night to attend to her and the one who changed her diapers the most often. You loved the days when the 3 of you would take a bath together or watch Melissa make up songs to sing to your daughter

-"You know, I know you know, how much we expected you, how much I wanted you, I know you know. You know that sometimes there are disagreements, but when there is a union of two souls, it brings light, light like you. You know that when you arrived you changed the color of my mornings, and the smell too."-you laughed listening to her -"How can I explain to you the love I have for you, it cannot be compared, it is a love that has no limits. I watch you as your mother rocks you, it makes me feel strong to see you grow. The love I have for you, I let it show in this song"-Melissa sang to your daughter every time she came home from work and she could hold her in her hands, your daughter watched her intently every second, touching your wife's face with her little clumsy hands. That was one of your favorite songs. Seeing Mel happy with your daughter, it was your favorite thing.

~Years Later~

-"Here comes mommy! Go say hello to her"-you said to your little three-year-old daughter as she watched your wife leave school. Her little red ponytail moved back and forth as she ran to her mother. Your wife opened her arms and lifted her up, hugging her tightly against her body. Barbara smiled at her friend and showered your daughter with kisses making her laugh

-"Mommy I missed you so much! Auntie Baba! You all(are) making me ticklee!" - she laughed between the two women. Carefully you approached your wife laughing

-"Leave my princess alone, she's already drunk two boxes of apple juice and she's going to pee" - Your daughter nodded and made little hands to Barbara who picked her up with pleasure. Your wife kissed you smiling and put her hand on your big belly, giving him a kiss as well.

-"I missed you all... How are you feeling?" - she whispered over your lips before kissing you again

-"The little guy is kicking like crazy but I feel good, I think this one will look more like me but he will have the Schemmenti character without a doubt, he is not born yet and he is already hitting everything he can"-you laughed seeing her surprised face

-"Our daughter looks like me and has your humor, but when she gets angry, she also has your character"—she laughed as you gently punched her arm-"and that's why I love her so much" - She kissed you again and you laughed-"Let's go home? I'm planning to make those gnocchi that you and the baby like so much, what do you say?"

-"Mommy! Can we invite auntie Baba fol dinel? She told me that next yeal I'll be with hel in school! And she can teach me now all the cool games! Pweeeease?" - she begged you two with big puppy eyes

-"Of course, my love, Aunt Barbara can go home with us to eat and while she teaches you all the games, Mommy and I will do some things together... We have to take advantage of having a free nanny to have some alone time before this one arrives"-Melissa whispered touching your belly and Barbara gave her a bad look, making you laugh.

[the-curious-butterfly]

A Dappling (or was it called Appling?) short.

PLOT TWIST

After word got out that it was her instead of Daring who woke up Apple, Darling half expected to be chased out of Ever After with torches and pitch forks.

Perhaps not exactly to that extreme but at least something to that extent. She expected mad looks, curses (both literal and verbal) being thrown her way, and an angry mob of princes she could definitely beat in a fight if they lined up one by one. If they came at her all at once, however, it could prove just a tad bit more difficult but she’s pretty sure she can still win against that too.

But she digresses, the point is she expected things to get very bad and very awkward. Well they got awkward alright but not in the very bad way, though she couldn’t really call it the good way either. More like they got awkward in the “okay, I guess this is happening” sort of way.

No, once word had reached a certain person in particular that she, a princess no less, woke Apple from her cursed slumber it took no time at all for her to find herself in the office of one Snow White. The mother of said previously cursed princess and also the Queen of Ever After. And by no time at all she meant no time at all, she doesn’t even remember how she got here or when this semi-large packet came to be in her hands.

Darling decided to ignore the concerning implications that thought had and instead looked down to find in big bold fancy red letters the words: ‘So You Want to Marry My Sweet Apple Dumpling do You?’

There was another phrase underneath with the word ‘Daring’ in it but it had been hastily crossed out so Darling couldn’t exactly read it.

‘Wait….marry?!’

“Ummm, your majesty, what is this?”

The Queen places down her mug with the words ‘fairest of them all’ onto her desk before finally addressing Darling.

“Darling please, call me Snow. We are soon to be family after all.”

“Right…Snow.” It felt so weird to call her by her first name. Not just because she was the Queen but also because Darling was a knight and thus was more use to addressing others the way a knight would, with formality and respect. “What do you mean by soon to be?”

“What do you mean by what do I mean? Will you or will you not be proposing to Apple?” The Queen narrowed her eyes at Darling as if telling her to think carefully about her answer.

“Your majest- I mean Snow, I would love to propose to Apple some day it’s just that you know I thought that you, hex that the entire realm would be upset I wasn’t Daring. Plus we’re both still in school and all.”

“Nonsense, Darling, all Apple’s destiny truly calls for is a Charming, and from what I hear you certainly live up to your namesake. Besides, I’ll have you know the first Snow White was married before she even started school.” (I’m so sorry, I hated learning this but the original Snow White apparently was somewhere around 14 and I completely understand if you want to beat me up for bringing it to your attention.)

“I’m not so sure if that’s something to be proud of, your majesty.” The words were out before Darling could even remind herself who she was saying them to.

“Oh I completely agree, that was the one part of my story I thought was utterly ridiculous.” Phew “Which is why I waited until senior year.”

“Wait, you were also poisoned while attending Ever After High?”

“Darling, I’ll let you in on a secret, most stories end up happening at Ever After High. Hex, as soon as the Evil Queen saw me she tried to poison me. Every day was a fight for my life, those were the best four years I could have ever after wished for.”

“…oh….kay” was all Darling could really think to say.

“Now if you will, turn to page seven.”

“Page seven?” Snow gestured to the packet Darling had forgotten was in her hands. “Oh hex, forgive me I-“ she went completely dead silent as soon as she saw the first few words the page contained.

Heirs and You

“Now granted, this was written with Daring in mind so I never thought I needed to add this which is why I’m saying it now. I don’t mind adoption but your first child must be a product of both you and Apple thus I took the liberty of getting in contact with a renown enchantress who I am certain will be able to help you and…Darling?!”

A loud thud reverberated throughout the room as the knight had passed out before Snow could even finish saying her name.

~~~

Apple come quick, your mother is traumatizing your Prince Charming.

[mollywog]

Hey!

I have never been able to understand the logic behind Katniss voting "yes" for Coin's Capitol only games, how do you analyse this decision? And Haymitch's peculiar support, what is SC playing at?

Great question!

My interpretation:

Remember when Katniss was negotiating the Mockingjay agreement? Coin never explicitly agreed to let Katniss kill Snow:

My paper’s crumpled into a ball in my right fist. I flatten the sheet against the table and read the rickety letters. “Just one more thing. I kill Snow.”

For the first time ever, I see the hint of a smile on the president’s lips. “When the time comes, I’ll flip you for it.”

So, here we are: Katniss is sitting there in the meeting dressed as the Mockingjay, prepared to kill Snow…

But

There is no assurity: at any point Coin could change her mind and choose to kill Snow herself.

"Sit down, please, Katniss," says Coin, closing the door. I take a seat between Annie and Beetee, carefully placing Snow's rose on the table. As usual, Coin gets right to the point. "I've asked you here to settle a debate. Today we will execute Snow. In the previous weeks, hundreds of his accomplices in the oppression of Panem have been tried and now await their own deaths. However, the suffering in the districts has been so extreme that these measures appear insufficient to the victims. In fact, many are calling for a complete annihilation of those who held Capitol citizenship. However, in the interest of maintaining a sustainable population, we cannot afford this."

Through the water in the glass, I see a distorted image of one of Peeta's hands. The burn marks. We are both fire mutts now. My eyes travel up to where the flames licked across his forehead, singeing away his brows but just missing his eyes. Those same blue eyes that used to meet mine and then flit away at school. Just as they do now.

"So, an alternative has been placed on the table. Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority of four will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote," says Coin. "What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power."

All seven of us turn to her. "What?" says Johanna.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol children," says Coin.

"Are you joking?" asks Peeta.

"No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security," Coin tells us.

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" asks Haymitch.

"It was mine," says Coin. "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

The final Capital children Hunger Game is Coin’s idea: This is literally/metaphorically the ‘coin toss.’ It’s not arbitrary like the idea of flipping a coin is, but this is the deciding factor.

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch," says Coin.

Was it like this then? Seventy-five years or so ago? Did a group of people sit around and cast their votes on initiating the Hunger Games? Was there dissent? Did someone make a case for mercy that was beaten down by the calls for the deaths of the districts' children? The scent of Snow's rose curls up into my nose, down into my throat, squeezing it tight with despair. All those people I loved, dead, and we are discussing the next Hunger Games in an attempt to avoid wasting life. Nothing has changed. Nothing will ever change now.

I weigh my options carefully, think everything through. Keeping my eyes on the rose, I say, "I vote yes ... for Prim."

"Haymitch, it's up to you," says Coin.

A furious Peeta hammers Haymitch with the atrocity he could become party to, but I can feel Haymitch watching me. This is the moment, then. When we find out exactly just how alike we are, and how much he truly understands me.

"I'm with the Mockingjay," he says.

Katniss has shown dissent against Coin before. At this point Katniss has decided the bombs were released by the rebels and not Snow. She equates her dissent with the death of her sister. Coin is no better than Snow: she’s the other side of the same coin

Voting yes demonstrates to Coin that she’s not a threat

The decision she’s made to vote yes is for Prim because she’s using her vote to gain Coin’s trust to get revenge on Coin. It is not her voting yes to take revenge on the innocent Capitol children in the hypocritical games.

Haymitch and Katniss have always had an unspoken communication. I think Haymitch, the strategist, understood Katniss’s need to appear non-threatening to Coin’s reign.

[max1461]

Ok I'm rather busy and had planned to write a longer post elaborating on this topic but I can't do it now, I'll probably still write one later but I wanted to make a short post as the topic has become relevant: the thing that you have to know about my writing style is that (speaking particularly about my serious posts here and not my shitposts) it is very literal modulo certain stylistic quirks. I don't really have time to elaborate all of these (ironically this post was written in a rush, and thus might not itself be the best example of my usual style), but one important fact is that when I say "almost", "in generally", "more-or-less", "in some sense" and so on, I really mean these. Like, these aren't filler words, I think a lot of people just gloss over them but tbh I often agonize over where exactly to put these when writing a post. I sometimes leave posts in my drafts for ages just because I haven't decided whether to propose some phrase with "generally" or not. I'm very, like, careful about trying to make it unambiguous that I don't mean whatever I don't mean, right? So these words are not meant to be glossed over; they're written carefully and they're meant to be read carefully.

It's also important to note that I omit them for stylistic reasons quite often, in particular because if I included words like this everywhere that I think they should logically be, my writing would become like, unreadable. So I try to structure things whereby I set the reader up with reasonable assumptions about what generalizations are absolute, which ones are statistical but high confidence, which ones are very loose and so on. So for instance I'll often set up the appropriate way of understanding a generalization in the first paragraph in which it is introduced, and then make it clear from context that the reader should carry this through when I talk about it going forward. Maybe I don't always do a good job.

But like, consider this recent post. I first say that "I’m comfortable taking it almost as an axiom that no one should ever get kicked out of where they are living". And when I say almost, you know, I mean almost! Idk if other people's writing has this quality. Almost is not there for metrical shape, it's there for content! Anyway, later say something like "an ideal housing policy should respect this axiom", and this is meant to mean... well, I'm not sure really how to say it other than how I said it, it's meant to mean "an ideal housing policy should respect this axiom". A very important part of the semantics of this sentence is that I am invoking a sort of fundamental property of ideals, which is that you usually can't achieve them in actual practice but you should try to get close, modulo whatever constraints you are under. Maybe it's not clear that these constraints are the same constraints imposing exceptions to the axiom; that seems like a genuine ambiguity. Well that's on me.

Anyway, this post sounds kinda snarky like I'm getting on people's case for not reading my post correctly, but no that's not what I mean at all! No like, I'm not irritated at other for not reading a post how I intended it. But I've been wanting to write about my own writing style for a while, in particular because as I said I write in a very particular way whose meaning may not always be like... obvious to readers. And this was a good opportunity to like, point out one of the biggest ways in which my writing style is particular, and which sometimes leads to misunderstanding. Well anyway. Sorry this was written in a rush cause I have actual things I have to do today, there's probably typos and so on so please forgive that.

[btkvp]

Are you searching a Best Computer Centre franchise or Low-cost Computer Centre affiliation or Government registered computer Franchise or computer institute affiliation proposal or you want to register/start/open a new Computer Centre in any location of India-

[dilf-whore]

baby’s coming

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

genre: fluff

summary: steve stays by your side as you give birth to your first baby 

A/N: i got inspired to write this because of that one scene in vol 2 where steve talks about wanting to have 6 kids 😭 he’s so cute istg. i hope y’all enjoy reading this just as much i enjoyed writing it❣️

requested: no

requests are OPEN

masterlist

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You hold the dishes and put them on the sink. Starting the water, you rinse them off one by one. As you were grabbing the sponge at the side, you felt liquid pouring down your legs, you look down and see that your water just broke. You quickly turn off the water and put back the sponge.

“Steve! my water broke, the baby’s coming!” you scream.

“Oh my god the baby’s coming, don’t panic Y/N. I’ve got you” Steve who’s cleaning the dining table, drops the rug and immediately rushes to grab the hospital bag and keys - opening the door, the adrenaline rushing through his body, making him leave you behind.

You quickly go after him, “you fucking moron! you forgot about me”

“Oh shit sorry!” Steve goes back to you and guides you to the car. He opens the back door and carefully sits you down. He runs to the front and hop on to the driver’s seat, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he buckles up and starts the engine.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You and Steve got married after the events with vecna. You both realized how much you mean to each other and how time is delicate, so Steve decided to propose to you.

It was hard though at first, some people judged you for getting married at such a young age - you both understood why but you had your reasons and you were both sure that you want to be with each other for the rest of your lives. You both went back to usual, go to college and have fun like what college students do - just the whole married thing is what made it different.

You got pregnant, two years after you graduated college. It was a surprise and scary really, but you were so happy and you were both working jobs that paid pretty well - making your worries disappear.

You immediately told the gang about the news, and they were much more excited than you and Steve - giving all of their support as much as possible.

The kids made time to visit you every chance they get, they had hectic schedules because of college but you were grateful nonetheless. Meanwhile, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin visited you often and gave your gifts for you and the baby.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

On the way to the hospital, you were doing the breathing technique you were thought from the classes you and Steve took. Steve glances at the rear mirror and looks at you with concern “just breathe Y/N, we’re almost there”.

A few minutes later, you finally arrive at the hospital. Steve wraps his hand around your waist and you both rush inside. “she’s giving birth!” Steve shouts as you enter, nurses come towards the both of you and bring you to the delivery room. “Please let him come” you tell the nurse.

Steve follows you and hold your hand as you prepare to deliver your baby. The doctor finally instructs you to push, making you hold a death grip on your husband’s hand - he groans and bends his knees in pain. Soon he gets his composure back and focus on you.

“Get the fuck out! Agh!” you scream, sweat dripping down you face.

Steve kisses the back of your hand, “You’re doing great honey, just a little more. Push!”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You wake up and spot Steve cradling your baby, you smile at the sight in front of you. “Hey” you speak.

Steve sniffs and go to you, giving you the baby, “That’s your gorgeous momma, Jack.” he sniffs again.

“He’s so precious Y/N, thank you for bringing this blessing to this world. God I’m still crying” He says, tears falling down his cheek once again. You look down to your baby who’s sleeping peacefully, tears forming on your eyes “hello there little one”. You gently run your fingers through his hair, “you got your daddy’s hair for sure” you say.

Steve giggles at your comment, approaching you and placing a soft kiss on your forehead “Definitely a good mixture of Y/N and Steve” he giggles. “That’s one down, five more to go” he jokes - earning a light slap on his shoulder.

Not long after, someone barges at the door. “Where is he?” Nancy rushes to you, followed by the rest of your friends. They all gather around you, shoving flowers and gifts to Steve - completely ignoring his presence.

“What’s his name?” El asks.

“Jack” you reply softly.

“Awwww” the kids say in unison. Jonathan takes his camera and motions the rest to move aside and stay away from the frame, “alright 1, 2, 3” and the camera flashes. “Hey what about me?” Steve complains.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Get in the frame” Jonathan instructs and takes a picture. “Now everybody get in” He says as he puts his camera on the table and sets the timer, he runs beside Nancy, “smile!”

click

You look at the people around you, your eyes land on each one of them. “I love you guys” you say. And finally look at Steve and Jack, “I love you”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[ikleesfiction]

Tacones Rojos

Fandom : Chicago PD TV Word count : 4,242 words Pairing : Jay Halstead x reader Author's note : This is the sixth one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary. Warning : There is an implied/referenced suicide here. I won't be offended if you back away from the fic because of this. The reference is tiny, non explicit. But it's better to be overcautious than underestimating a possible trigger. I love you, please take care of yourself!

Disclaimer

◢◤

Jay opens the door and lets himself into the house. It has been a good day at work. For once, Chicago's finest criminals are not making too much fuss. The Intelligence Team could get off of work before sundown. They decide to go out for dinner to celebrate Voight’s birthday, which should have been last month, but they were just too busy before.

"Babe?" Jay calls you out.

"Bathroom!" You holler back to let him know where you are. "Thank god you are here early. I thought I had to pick you up at the precinct."

"You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?" Jay walks further into the house. "The team is..." He pauses at the bathroom door, whistling at the vision in the mirror.

There you are in a black dress, sporting a low neckline. The dress has tiered skirts that fall above your knees. It looks lavish yet still modest. Jay fails to figure out how you do it. All he knows is that you look stunning.

Standing behind you, Jay wraps his arms around your waist. "Hi, gorgeous," He kisses your neck. "God, you smell wonderful." Jay moves to kiss the other side. "Not that I mind this lovely welcome, but what's the occasion?"

"You don't remember?" You look to your side without moving away from his embrace.

Jay frowns, "What? I didn't forget your birthday, did I?" He jokes.

You turn around, resting your hip on the bathroom counter. One of your eyebrows raises, full of judgment.

"I'm pretty sure it is not our anniversary?" Jay asks meekly.

Now both of your eyebrows turn into an arch.

"Well, I'm sorry I don't remember," In an attempt at his apology, Jay brings your hands to his lips. "Please..."

"I have this invite from The Tribune, a dinner party for their contributors," You let go of his hands. Turning back to face the mirror, you put on the last touch of your makeup. "I told you about this, right? They invited me since I am writing for their music column now."

"Ah, yes," Jay grimaces. "That is tonight?"

"Yeah. I thought you were here early because you remembered."

"Sorry," Jay shrugs his shoulders. "I was going to take you to the Chop House. The team is celebrating Voight’s birthday tonight."

"Wasn’t it like a few weeks ago? I remembered sending him a bottle of malt for a gift." You glance at Jay's reflection in the mirror as you put on a pair of earrings.

"It was, but we haven’t had the chance to celebrate it until tonight."

"Well, I guess we have to skip his party then." You usher Jay and walk with him to step out of the bathroom.

"Let’s go to Chop House first, just to say hi. Then we will go to your party." Jay proposes his plan.

You scoff at his idea. "It is not my party. It is the Chicago Tribune Contributors Dinner." You sit carefully on the couch before putting on a pair of red strappy heels. "It is a formal dinner, Jay. Suit and tie and invites and all." You gesture to your whole look from top to toe. "You cannot be as late as you want."

You stand up and continue your ranting. "Seriously, I don’t know why I expect any difference this time. It is such a classic thing Jay Halstead would do. You always think about your team first. Everything else comes second."

"Hey, that’s not true!" Jay snaps back. "Look, I’m sorry I forgot about your dinner invites, but it doesn’t mean I care more about my job than about you." Jay is perplexed to find out how dinner invitations could turn into spats. Is it so unforgivable to forget something?

"I tried, Jay. I tried as much as I could to understand that your job comes first. I accepted that your team is your family. I get it, Jay! I wish you could give me even a tiny part of that same devotion you have for them."

"Well, it seems you understand nothing, huh, Y/N?" Jay gets provoked by the high tension. "Because all I heard here is that you complained about all the time spent at my job. Do you want to talk about my work? Then I should have brought about your job in the first place." Jay points his finger in your direction. "I never say anything when you have gone abroad for weeks to make some music and million dollars. So maybe, it is you who is not devoted to this relationship."

You feel enraged by his accusation. You wanted to fight back, but fighting with words is not your best forte. You would only end up choking and crying, which you have no time for now.

"You know what? I cannot do this with you right now." You check your purse. "I’m almost late. Please send my apologies to your team." You grab a coat on your way out. "Don't forget to lock up when you go."

With that, you leave the house and your angry boyfriend in it.

◢◤

“What are you doing here? I thought you had an important dinner date with your Dancing Queen?” Hailey asks Jay when he comes to the steak house by himself.

"Stop calling her that." Jay scolds his partner.

"Well, she danced, and she acted like a diva. I'm just calling what I'm seeing." Hailey shrugs.

"You never saw her dance, you liar!" Jay laughs. "For a DJ, she is an awful dancer."

"But you agree that she is a diva wannabe," Hailey points out what Jay left out.

"No, she is not. Just because she is the only famous musician you met doesn't mean she is a diva." Jay rolls his eyes. "You should give her a chance, Hailey. You keep offending her like this without getting to know her personally. It is not fair, you know?" Jay defends his girlfriend.

"Well, if she were here now, I would." Hailey takes a sip of her beer.

“No, you would not,” Jay calls out her bullshit.

“No, I probably wouldn’t,” Hailey admits with a cunning grin. “So you bailed on the dinner date, huh?”

“It was more like I forgot. But apparently, that is a punishable crime.” Jay frowns in disgust.

“Ah, lovers’ quarrel. I will not touch that with a ten-foot pole." Hailey raises her hands. “You guys are fun to watch, like a teenage drama. Sickeningly sweet in one episode, then broke up in the next one.”

Jay rolls his eyes, “We are not breaking up. We are just having a spat.”

“The fact that you pointed it out makes you sound like a teenage boy,” Hailey teases him. “Relax. The thing about a diva is that they are fickle. By tomorrow, you will be madly in love again."

“Ergh, I don’t know why I bother to talk to you about this.” Jay waves his hand, terminating their conversation. "You are not helping,"

◢◤

Two hours into the event, you are getting bored already. The party is fun, and the food is alright, but your heart's not in it. Mostly, it was because you left home with a bitter taste of fighting with your boyfriend. Deep down, you understand that you are not being fair to Jay. His job is hard on your relationship, but your frequent trips abroad for your job are also not easy to handle. Neither of you nor Jay is entitled to feel singled out. This evening spat was just you losing grip of your insecurity, and you lashed it out at Jay.

However, you are too upset to admit that you are in the wrong as much as Jay. Right now, your fight response still runs high. It is almost 9.30 PM. It would be too late to visit your usual jiu-jitsu dojo. The one near Grant Park might still be open, though, you remind yourself. Sparring for an hour and a half would be good before you face Jay. That way, you hope to get rid of any negative energy. Then, you can talk to Jay more openly.

You leave the party around 10 PM. Instead of calling a cab, you walk to the bus stop. There is a gas station and a minimarket across the street. You decide to drop by for a bar of chocolate. It is far from the artisan dark chocolate you have at home, but you always have this craving for chocolate at an upsetting moment. Chocolates, and physical fights, are now becoming your antidepressant.

You smile at the middle-aged guy at the cash register who hands you your purchase. The bell above the door clinks as three guys step into the store. They go straight to the alcohol section.

The guy at the register sighs loudly. He looks about the same age as Jay’s brother, Will, but the suffering on his face might add a few years more. “Delinquents,”

You nod your understanding and offer him another smile in farewell. “Have a good night,”

The street is pretty deserted as you walk to the bus stop. Not a lot of people walk around. There are only a couple of cars passing by. You open and take a bite of the chocolate bar, waiting for your bus to come. You notice the guys are leaving the store with beer bottles in their hands. They cross the street and hang around the bus stop.

Before long, the catcalls begin.

“Where are you going, long legs?” One of them asks you. “Those heels, woohoo. I could climb those legs forever,”

Ignoring them should be the right way to go, you think. As the wind picks up, you tighten your coat to warm yourself.

“I wonder, what's under the coat? What do you think, dude?” The punks talk to each other.

“Tight dress,”

“Lace,”

“Nothing, maybe?”

"Eeeey!" They trade high fives and cackles, supporting the others' wild imaginations. All while they are stepping closer to where you stand.

From across the street, you hear the cash register guy shout, “Hey, leave her alone, you scoundrel!”

You understand how this looks. Some crooks are harassing a woman. People with high morals will try to help, of course. It is normal to assume a young woman will be helpless. But this time, they have the wrong assumption. Because as far as you can see, there are no vulnerable women around here.

Honestly, you feel giddy. You might not have to go to the dojo for a fight after all.

“What are you gonna do, old man?” One of the punks challenges him. He dares to grab your ass, taunting the cash register guy.

Yes, you got your fight! You are fist-pumping internally.

In a blink of an eye, the guy who touches you drops down on the pavement, holding his hand in pain. His friends look shocked for a moment. But being beaten down by a girl would be embarrassing.

“You, bitch!”

Naturally, they quickly strike back.

The fight is pretty one-sided. Three street thugs are no match for one jiu-jitsu purple belt. A throw down this way. Another sweep that way. One chokehold here. Lock that arm there. If they resist, then broken bones are unavoidable. It is not your fault that they decide to disturb a woman who just happened to be a jiu-jitsu student.

Until the punk that first went down gets back up to point a gun at you.

You let out a groan, “Seriously?” You hate guns. It is not because you are afraid of them or have any doubt about your bare hand fighting skill. You know it would only take you five seconds to unarm that guy. But firearms are loud and they tend to get messy. The ringing in your ears, the smell of powder residues, not to mention the blood stains. Ughh.

You make a side step forward as the man pulls the trigger. A slight miscalculation on your side allows the bullet to graze your arm. But in 20 seconds, the gun finds its way to your hand. The previous holder of the gun is down on the pavement with his palm under your pointy heels. The guy yells in pain, calling all deities and dirty words in the same sentence.

“Drop the gun!” You look up to find a cop car on the side of the road, and two police officers point their guns at you. “Drop the gun and show your hands!” The officer repeats.

You release the magazine from the gun before tossing it to the ground. That skill you learn not from the dojo but instead from your boyfriend. One of the officers then moves to secure your hands behind your back with cuffs.

“Oww,” You moan once you feel the wound on your arm.

◢◤

Trudy Platt is doing a crossword puzzle at her station when she sees a couple of her patrol officers bring a familiar face into the station. She stops the officers on their way, “Hey, Reyez, what happened here?”

“Dispatch called for a possible assault at South Western Avenue. Found this lady beating down three guys. All of them were at The Med now. One was unconscious. Another one ended up with a broken arm. The other’s leg was…” The officer shivers as he remembers the abnormal angle the guy’s leg was.

“Have you asked her to explain what happened?”

“She refused to talk outside this specific precinct, Sarge,” Officer Harris answers the sergeant.

Platt throws a disbelieving look at her officers and you.

“Hi, Sergeant Platt,” You grin at Trudy. “I’d wave, but…�� You wiggle as much as you can, being restrained by Officer Harris.

“Why, you little diva,” Platt sighs out loud. She returns to her desk to make a phone call.

“Should I continue to process her, Sarge?” Officer Reyez asks.

Sgt. Platt waves her hand dismissively, “Just put her in the holding cell for now,”

◢◤

The ringing of Voight's cell phone interrupts the laughter at their table. Their meals have been polished by now. They are still around for glasses of wine, fingers of bourbon, and lots and lots of beer. They might've as well moved to a bar, but they're too full to get up from their chairs.

"Voight," The leader answers his phone. The team watches him, hoping they don't get called for a case.

Voight listens in silence for a few moments until he lets out an "Excuse me?" in an indignant tone. "What was that again?"

It seems the person on the phone repeats the same message because Voight shakes his head as if to disagree. "Okay, just stay put. We'll be right there,"

"Please don't tell me we got a case, Sarge. My ribeye has not fully digested yet," whines Adam as he pats his stomach.

"No, no. We're still on stand down. It's just Platt needed me back at the station," Voight pushes himself out of the chair. He opens his wallet and hands his credit card to Kim. "One more round, then wrap this up. Can't let you alcoholics break my wallet," The team laughs at him. Voight nods his head in Jay's direction. "Halstead, you need to come with me,"

"Sarge?" Jay stands up from his chair, confused.

"Good night, guys. See you tomorrow," Voight waves goodbye and leaves the table. He doesn't wait to see if Jay follows him. Voight expects him to.

Jay looks around questioningly at the table. However, the rest of the team is as perplexed as him.

"Go." Hailey ushers him to follow their leader. "Give us a call if you need help,"

"Hopefully you won't, but yeah, man, let us know if you need anything," Adam echoes the sentiment.

Jay quickly catches Voight on his way out of the restaurant.

"You good to drive, Halstead?" Voight asks him.

"Legally? Probably, no. But, I'm good, Sarge," Jay admits to his leader. He might be a little tipsy, but he drove in a worse state before, and it was fine.*)

"Okay then, meet me back at the station," Voight orders him. "Safely, Jay," He emphasizes his point.

"Yes, sir. Can I ask what this is about, Sarge?" Jay cannot hold his curiosity.

"I'll tell you when we get to the precinct," Voight leaves Jay with that.

◢◤

"Ah, good, you're here," Trudy greets them from her desk as soon as she sees Voight and Halstead. She hands a piece of paper for them to read.

Jay widens his eyes as he reads the report, "What the fuck is this?"

"You sort it out. It's not like I have no other papers to file anyway," Platt waves them to the holding cell direction.

"Sarge, this cannot be true, right?" Jay questions his boss.

"Let's ask Y/N," Voight leads them to the temporary cell.

They walk inside the precinct and stop in front of the iron bars. There is only one person there, and it's you.

"Y/N!" Jay calls your name. "You okay?"

"Hi, Jay! Fancy seeing you here. I'm great! Bullet wound and all," You grin from the bench inside the holding cell. "Oh, good evening, Sergeant Voight," You wave to the elder man.

"If you don't want to come to my birthday dinner, you should've said so, Y/N. No need to make some fuss with this arrest." Voight quips.

You snort a laugh, "Sorry, sir."

"Can we not joke about this? I thought you were at the Tribune party, Y/N. Why are you on the street getting shot and beating people up?" Jay sounds agitated.

"Well, they were bothering me with the catcalls. It was creepy as hell. Then one of them got physical. So I got physical too, you know what I mean?" You shrug your shoulders.

"Yeah, I know. I read the report," Jay huffs in exasperation.

"In an actual, official report? Oh, wow. I didn't expect that." You sound impressed with yourself.

"Of course, there is a report. You almost killed three men!! Do you understand that??" Jay is getting more hysterical.

"Almost is the operative word," You calmly point out.

Jay pinches his nasal bones in distress. "Can I get her out of here, Sarge?" He finally asks Voight.

Voight watches their banter with his hands in his pockets. He takes a moment to ponder.

"Hey, Y/N. What brought up this urge to kill?" Voight questions you.

"Sir?" You don't catch what he meant.

"I know you hold a purple belt. You practice jiu-jitsu a lot. Usually, you are more patient and tolerant than this," Voight elaborates. "So, I asked again, what happened tonight?"

You know what happened tonight. Pent up frustration at Jay and at yourself that has been left unsolved. If you didn't leave the house angry at your partner, you probably would not have to spend the night in a police station.

You keep your mouth shut, not interested in letting Voight know the truth. You look down at your feet, breaking eye contact with the sergeant. Your feet are bare since the officers asked you to take your heels off. Assault weapons, they said. You stepped your weight on someone's palm and broke their fingers along the way. Killer heels indeed.

Jay also decides to look away from you and Voight. The sergeant notices this. So both of them understand the reason, which clued him in on why this happened.

"I see how it is," Voight exhales. "Alright, I give you an out this one time, Y/N. Next time you beat thugs on the street, try harder not to kill them, okay? Refrain yourself to bump and bruises only,"

Jay gapes at his leader, "Sarge!" He cannot believe Voight is validating your violent action.

You throw a half smile at Voight, "Thank you, sir,"

"And make sure you come to the next team hangout, whenever that happens." Voight continues his order.

"I'll try, Sarge,"

"No, no. Don't just try. You have to be there," Voight corrects you. "First third rounds shall be on you. That's the least you can do after crashing my party," Voight then leaves the couple to sort that damn paper Platt has on her desk.

Jay goes with him to find the officer who holds the cell key. When he gets the door open, he notices your feet are bare. "Where're your shoes?"

"Don't know," You shake your head. "Evidence, maybe?"

"What the fuck are your shoes doing in Evidence?" Jay mutters as he steers you to Sgt. Platt's desk.

"You need to sign this," Trudy pushes some papers towards you. "And these are the rest of your belongings,"

First, Trudy puts a plastic bag that holds your purse and its content. You only bring your phone, your ID and a few notes. They are all there.

Then she follows with your shoes. You groan in regret at the sight of your poor shoes. One of the heels broke. The intricate strappings are all snapped and tangled. You have no idea if they are salvageable.

"They are my favorite stilettos," You pout.

"Should have thought twice before aiming that blade into someone's hand," Trudy tells you straight, sans empathy.

She finally puts the last item on her desk, which is your coat.

The coat has a new decoration now. There is one bullet hole in the left upper arm. You remember being grazed by a bullet earlier this night. A paramedic tended your wound at the crime scene. You can still feel the twinge at the bandaged arm even now.

Your eyes begin to tear up upon seeing the state of the outerwear. It was a gift from your dear friend who took his own life a few years ago. It saddened you to find his last gift was ripped by common thugs on the street. It felt like you tainted his memories for something mundane and avoidable. If only you agreed with Jay this evening, none of these would happen. You quickly wipe the corner of your eyes before the tears fall.

Jay doesn't miss that. Without saying anything, he brings you into a hug. Jay never met that friend, but he knows how important he was to you. His sudden departure shook you hard. It made you stop working for months. Until Jay forced you to speak, telling him how you feel, what your thoughts about it. They discussed how to move forward. How wilting away in sorrow was disrespectful to that friend’s life and legacy. Only then you were willing to enter your studio to make music again.

"Shh, it's okay, Love. You're okay," Jay whispers sweet nothings in your ears. He peppers your head with comforting kisses. "We can fix it," Jay promises. You know that he is not just talking about the torn coat.

Not knowing the story behind the coat, Trudy asks rudely, “What? Was it a $30k coat? Yeah, I would cry over that too,"

Above your head, Jay glares at Trudy’s insensitivity. Instead of being sad, her comment makes you laugh. You let go of Jay’s embrace and put on the holey coat. “Nah. If the coat were that expensive, those guys would be dead already,” You retort.

“New house rule! No more violence from you except at the dojo!” Jay points a finger in your direction, enforcing his words. “No assaults, no slaughters, especially over a piece of clothes!”

“We’ll see about that, babe. We’ll see…” You pat him on the shoulders, unconvinced by his rule.

“I don’t need to know your household issue. Get out of here, you rascals!” Trudy shoos them out of the precinct.

◢◤

At home, you and Jay are back in the bathroom. Still wearing your party dress, you sit on the closed toilet. Jay crouches next to you as he repatches your bullet wound.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jay whispers when he sees you wincing.

“I think that is my line,” You tell him.

“Huh?” Jay asks, distracted as he tightens the bandage. “All done,” His face is still hovering around your shoulder, checking his handiwork.

You look to your left. Without prompts, you catch Jay's lips in a kiss.

“I’m sorry,” You murmur. “for tonight. I should not be angry at you for such trivial things,”

Jay shakes his head, “No, I’m sorry I forgot. I should have paid better attention to you and our relationship,”

“I didn’t mean it when I said those things. I was just upset. Not a great excuse, but I’m still sorry. I know you are in this 100%.” You tell him, still in a quiet tone. As if increasing your voice would break the mood. “And so am I. Please, believe me,” You grab his hands to convince him.

Jay shushes you, “I know. I should not accuse you like that. I know it was wrong, I’m sorry. You should know that I have never doubted you, your love, or your commitment,” He presses his lips to yours in assurance. “Ever.”

You twitch your lips, smiling, “I guess both of us have apologized and forgiven, then?”

Jay nods, “Uh huh. You know what to follow, right?” He replies with an indecent grin.

“I’m not sure,” You play along. “You better show me what it is,” You wrap your hands above Jay’s shoulders, placing your palms behind his neck.

Jay pulls you up to your feet. His hands wander from your back to your hips. “I will. As soon as I find the damned zipper on this dress.”

+x Taglist +x

@lorenakaspersen @life-treatments @itsdesiree86

PSA: Please don't drive under influence no matter what the circumstance is!!!

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Could you write a Wally West (Young Justice) headcanon, when his Future child with comes to the Present?

Wally West when his Future child comes to the Present

Dick Grayson Ver. | Jason Todd Ver. | Tim Drake Ver. | Damian Wayne Ver.  | Bruce Wayne Ver.

Conner Kent Ver.| Artemis Crock Ver.| Roy Harper Ver.

It was no secret that Wally was madly in love with you

Well, no secret to everyone else

To you?

You probably wouldn't have known if Wally proposed to you

Why?

Well because Wally practically proposed to everyone

Before he decided to get serious about you of course

But you didn't know that

And you didn't even know how serious it was

Besides, you weren't on the team so Young Justice could turn into Love Island

You were here to train and help people

Hence comes the age of Wally's hopeless pining

Let's be honest here

Wally is such a simp that it's not even funny anymore

He's willing to do practically everything for you

And he's so easy to please

Like you smile at him and he'll be on cloud 9

No joke

No one on planet earth thought Wally would ever be so head over heels

But they stand corrected

Ever since you came into his life

It's only been you

Wally can't explain it

To be honest he can't even understand it

But he knows that his heart does 360's whenever he looks at you

And all he wants is your happiness

The team try and convince you at times that Wally isn't the same person that he used to be

Sometimes they want to tell you how madly in love with you he is

But Wally always stops them before they do

He doesn't want you to know

Part of the reason is because he's scared of rejection

The other reason is because he doesn't want things to be awkward

He doesn't want you to feel guilty for rejecting him

He doesn't want you to feel pressured to accept his feelings

He'd much rather be crushed by his crush than make you feel even a fraction of what he did

For the moment, he was fine admiring you from afar

Of course, that all changed when the incident happened

Now this isn't your first rodeo so if you read my previous parts on this yall already know what happens

One day when the team was having a beach day

Wally was taking a breather and eating a hot dog on the shore

Calmly watching you play in the ocean

You were so happy and excited

He was smiling brightly just watching you

Your happiness was his happiness

"Dude, you've got it bad."

His head snapped up to see a boy who looked eerily similar to him

Red hair, green eyes

Another Allen? Again?

His mind was already whirring a with super speed

"What?"

"That girl? Your eyes were practically going to fall out of your head."

Wally blushed

"I wasn't staring that hard."

"Are you kidding? If you were in a cartoon (haha I make jokes) your pupils would be hearts and the phrase 'Awooga' would've come out of your mouth."

The kid continued to smirk at Wally before offering his hand

"I'm Leo."

"Wally."

He laughed, "Yeah I know."

"What?"

"Never mind. So, you're madly in love with this girl?"

And so, Wally pours out his heart and soul to some stranger on the beach

Not to mention the setting sun is super romantic

Leo is super attentive, listening carefully to everything Wally says and doesn't make any interruptions

Not even when Wally starts gushing about how beautiful you look in the rays of the sun

Even when Wally starts lamenting about how he's going to be alone for the rest of his life

By the end of the talk Leo gives him some advice

"Ever think of a huge gesture? Something to show her that she means something else to you than the others?"

"Hm? Like what?"

"You have superspeed genius. Take her somewhere she wouldn't be able to go otherwise. My opinion, take her someplace that brings a lot of nostalgia to her."

"I don't know...what if she doesn't like me that way?"

"Just trust me, you guys are meant for each other."

Now Wally doesn't know why exactly he's putting blind trust into some stranger

It's so unlike him

He's also so methodical and smart about things

More of a trust your mind than your gut kind of person

But even then, he found himself believing this random person he found on the beach

Wally took his advice seriously, promising that the next time they see each other, he would have at least tried

And he came through on his promise

One day Wally asked you if you were free and you said yes

Not knowing that Wally was just going to grab you bridal style and superspeed somewhere

He took you to a fair by your hometown

One of your favourite places on earth

And the two of you spent the whole day together

Going on rides, eating at each and every food stall you could find

Only in that order because you didn't want to throw up

Playing carnival games, going to the haunted house and house of mirrors

And of course, the grand finale, watching the fireworks from the Ferris wheel

"So, why the sudden outing?"

Wally shrugged, "Just wanted to do something special with you."

"Something special as friends? Or something else?"

He blushed, "Well, I mean, if you want it to be but there's not press—"

You couldn't even let him finish before throwing your hands around his neck and kissing him hard

Nothing beats hearing actual fireworks in the background and actually being off the ground in the Ferris wheel while kissing Wally for the very first time

Wally thanks Leo for the start of your relationship

He didn't think he would see him again after that

Honestly began thinking that Leo was some sort of guardian angel or something

Or cupid

Until one day he shows up again in at the cave

Everyone was immediately on attack mode

Until Wally saw who he was

"Woah! Guys stop for a second! He's my friend."

They all stop attacking because Wally vouched for him

But that still doesn't explain how he got in there

Or why

"So, what exactly are you doing here."

"I kinda need the plans to Uncle Bart's time machine."

"Why would you need that? And what do you mean Uncle Bart?"

"So, I can get back to my time? My parents are probably freaking out."

He tells you about how he's from the future and he got zapped to the past through some warp hole or something

And he needed the plans to Bart's time machine to go back to his own time

"So, how'd things go with that girl?"

Wally outright beamed and you just looked mildly confused

"Girl? What girl?"

Cue Wally wrapping his arm around you with a giant proud smile

"Things went very well."

It was then you realized you were the girl he was talking about and blushed

Leo on the other hand smirked

"Great. I hope you'll keep this in mind when you want to ground me."

"What? Why would I ground you?"

Leo doesn't answer your question, just smirks and holds out his hand to you

"I'm Leo West. Nice to meet you, (Y/N) West."

PLOT TWIST lol not really cuz we all knew it

You're in utter disbelief

How is he so blatant

Now you can see the resemblance to Wally

And Wally is damn near a heart attack

Cuz like? You marry him? Have a kid with him? He can't compute

"So, you mean to tell me that you're my future son?"

"In the flesh."

"Huh. Damn I guess I have better genetics than I thought."

And Wally is just simultaneously flustered and agitated that you're not more triggered than he is and in utter adoration of you and how cool you are

And everyone is just like she didn't react because she's emotionally stunted and traumatized

And Wally is like shh she's amazing let me love her

Even though Leo was totally blatant about his name and the fact that you and Wally get married and stuff

He seems a little reluctant to tell you about the future

Which you understand

Besides, it's not like you wouldn't find out eventually

You help him build the time machine so he can return home

And you learn much more about him

He's the spitting image of Wally but is more brash and unfiltered than he is

And that says something

Leo's mouth works faster than his brain

And that's abundantly clear within the first 5 minutes of meeting him

He says some mean and straightforward things sometimes

But you know that his intention is never to hurt you

He just has problems framing his sentences in a non-offensive way

Eventually you do send him back

And you'd take about 20 years before you'd find out what happened on the other side of the time machine

But I'll tell you anyway

"Mom! Dad!"

"Leo! Oh, thank goodness! I thought I was going to have a heart attack!"

You grabbed him in your arms, checking him over for injuries and kissing every inch of skin on his face

"Mom, I'm fine, stop slobbering over me."

"Well, I'm glad you are fine. Because you're grounded for a month."

"What?! I get you both laid and I get grounded for a month?!"

"You're right. You're grounded for two."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph!

You have any recommendations for s4 fix-its but with a pining John. Majorly all the fix-its i have found so far we see Sherlock pining over John and i feel i have seen enough of that in the show itself. So some reverse fic rec please?

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhh, good question... let me dig though my S4 Recs:

PINING JOHN in S4

New Year, New Beginning by DaisyFairy (T, 810 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, New Year’s Eve, John POV, Friends to Lovers) – New Year at a crime scene and John makes a decision.

Posh Boy by panickedbee (M, 3,622 w., 2 Ch. || Kinks, RST, Pining, Sexual Frustration) – In his head he greets him with hey, handsome in the morning, calls him genius when he is being too clever again, calls him pretty man and silly git and sweetheart and, of course, posh boy. Part 5 of Sherlock Holmes Is A Very Lucky Man

Things That You Can't Say Tomorrow Day by PsychGirl (T, 4,022 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, POV John, Cuddling / Snuggling, Hypothermia, Snowed In, Angst, Romance, First Kiss/Time) – Things go horribly wrong while John and Sherlock are on a mission for Mycroft. Now they're out in the woods in the middle of winter with no coats and no shelter. However will they stay warm?

WHISPER TO ME by chrysanthemumsies (T, 20,598 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff, Parentlock, Mutual Pining, Music, Sherlock Plays Guitar, Love Confessions, Light Angst, Romance, First Kiss) - Following the events of S4, Sherlock and John try and fit back into their old life as carefully as they can, all while their feelings threaten to bubble to the surface. Or: Sherlock picks up playing the guitar. John falls more and more in love with every passing day. (TO READ)

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Post S4, Fake Relationship, First Kiss, Snuggles and Cuddles, Mary's Past, Morally-Grey Mary, Idiots in Love, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w., 31 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevant to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower (E, 51,639 w., 12 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Closeted Bi John, Angst, Miscommunications, Slow Burn, First Time, John’s Blog / Epistolary, Selective Mutism) – John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing...and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes... and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they're both so very, very rubbish at talking.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence / Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, John’s Sexuality, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, Gay John) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson. (TO READ)

[hpdrizzle]

Thank you once again from the DRIZZLE MODS for your participation in the fest! Reveals will be made sometime between October 1 - 2 depending on timezones and life! (If there are any errors, please let us know via email as it’s the fastest way to reach the person who makes the posts!)

[PODFIC] Podfics for drizzle 2022 are not anonymous Title: Lightning Crashes READ BY: bluedreaming | Author of Fic: victoria_p (musesfool) Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin Summary: "We have to get out of these wet clothes." Title: Lovely Weather for a Sleigh Ride (Together With You) READ BY: roseszain | Author of Fic: Drarrelie Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: The snow is glittering in the sun and the Eighth Years can't resist heading out to savour it, revisions and essays be damned. Only question is, can Harry coax his roommate to join them? Title: Of Full Moons and Rain READ BY: Static_Whisper  |  Author of Fic: Evening12 Pairing/Character: Remus Lupin [GEN] Summary: Remus’ life has taken on a routine that revolves around the full moon. [ART]

Title: The last time I Stay Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: Harry and Draco fight a lot. Finally, Harry has had enough and he decides to leave. Draco runs after him apologising. Harry wants to stay but they don't know how much they can endure. This is the last time he'll stay. Title: Mustelid Marauding Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Summary: Hermione helps Draco speed up the animagus process, to join her in mustelid marauding. Title: out of the blue clear sky Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: The decision to propose to Harry is the easiest Draco’s made in his life. There was little doubt about how to do it, too - a message, four words written in neat cursive on a piece of expensive parchment, carefully folded into a paper crane (for old time’s sake, and because he knows it will make Harry laugh). It has been sitting hidden in his trouser pocket for days. Now there’s only the matter of finding the perfect moment. Title: Swimming in the Rain Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: Have you ever been swimming in the rain? Title: You Waited For Me? Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: Harry's concert gets cancelled in the rain but he waits because Draco had said he'd come. [ART+ FIC]

Title: Under the weather Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: Harry Potter arrives on a Friday afternoon. Spring is beautiful this year, Draco thinks, and yet, there’s a dark grey cloud, rumbling ominously and leaving a big puddle right in the middle of the staffroom. The cloud appears to be right above Harry Potter’s head. [FIC] GEN Title: After All, What Are Friends For? Character(s): Hermione Granger Summary: It's raining men at Hermione's house. Wizards are just showing up on her doorstep one rainy weekend, all making proposals of marriage. What IS going on? Title: Backsliding Character(s): Sirius Black. Harry Potter. Summary: Whenever the weather gets too gloomy, Sirius’ mood follows, since it reminds him so much of Azkaban. Harry tries to help. Title: Don't believe that god is dead Character(s): Barty Crouch Jr Summary: After his trial for torturing the Longbottoms, Barty Crouch Jr is shipped off to Azkaban. He can only count the passage of time by counting the storms. Title: Full Moon, Falling Snow Character(s): Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter Summary: The Marauders enjoy their first snowy full moon together. Title: The Great King Rat Character(s): Barty Crouch Jr Summary: Barty Crouch Jr is determined to solve the origins of the mysterious fog. Title: Talk to the wind, talk to the sky Character(s): Remus Lupin Summary: Remus had no idea if the storms or barometric pressure or whatever was really causing his migraine today, but he didn't care. FEMSLASH Title: Bless The Rains Pairing: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson Summary: While working together for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Hermione and Pansy are sent abroad to a conference in Africa. Title: Glory-of-the-snow Pairing: Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley Summary: The first snow is always the hardest. Ginny remembers Luna. Title: Nirmal Pairing: Cho Chang/Padma Patil Summary: निर्मल [Nirmal] (Hindi) — pure: (1) clean; e.g. The pure water of tropical, torrential rains. (2) complete, total; e.g. The pure joy of running and splashing in the downpour with a loved one. Title: one more time again Pairing: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson Summary: While grieving her mother, Hermione finds herself coming face to face with someone she never thought she'd see again. Title: Raindrops and You Pairing: Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley Summary: Luna and Ginny let the rain wash away their past and lead them into a future unknown. SLASH Title: Bloom Pairing: Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini Summary: In the middle of Britain's worst drought on record, Blaise receives a request to install an irrigation system for the gardens and greenhouses at Hogwarts: a place that he hasn't set foot in over a decade, and which is now home to someone he never really expected to forgive him. Title: Can't You See That It's Just Rainin' Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin Summary: Rainy days are perfect for post-full moon recovery, especially when your fiancé is a healer. Title: Falling on My Head Like a Memory Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: Harry never minded the rain and storms, he used them as an escape from the Dursleys. It was the only time he has felt anything and he continued it when things got overwhelming at Hogwarts too. He had managed to keep it a secret until now, but he didn't mind that it was Draco that found him. Title: Floating (with the melancholy storm) Pairing: Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy Summary: Albus Potter is set to film the third season of the show he was starring in for a few years. Unexpectedly, Scorpius Malfoy cannonballs into his life to play his love Interest—and Albus floats with the melancholy storm, unable to discern the show from reality. (Kinda slow burn, kinda an open ending, kinda a lot of tension but it’s okay. It’s fine.) Title: The July Tree Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love. OR: It’s Eighth Year, and Harry Potter has detention. What else is new? Well, since you asked: Greenhouse Four and the Tree of Life, for a start, and then there’s the new shared Eighth Year common room, and Harry’s sexuality, and these pesky dreams he keeps having about a blond man pushing him into things… Title: The Love You Find Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: They never talked about it, but Harry took to crawling into Draco’s bed during the night, until they just pushed their two beds together. Harry wondered if they should discuss it, but he didn’t know how he’d handle it if Draco wanted to stop. Or, the one where Harry gets injured, Draco drags him to Australia, and ten years of feelings come bubbling to the surface. Title: Mission Gone Slightly Awry Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter Summary: Secondly, the weather had turned bitterly cold and wet. It was early Fall but there was the possibility of sleet in the weather forecast. Title: November Snow Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: It was late November, and the sky was grey and full with the promise of the first snowfall of winter. Title: Out of the fog Pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape Summary: As Severus desperately rushes to get Harry to St Mungos through the fog he considers their relationship. Title: Rain or Shine, You’ll Still Be Mine Pairing: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Potter Summary: Scorpius hates the idea of being second place in the heart of his best friend. He hates even more that his emotions are so evident through the weather. Title: Summer Changes Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: Harry stumbles upon Draco Malfoy babysitting his godson, Teddy. He should probably stop dropping by every time Malfoy is there, but something about his former enemy still draws him close and makes his stomach flip. Now in an entirely different way. Title: Think Of Me Fondly Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: He spends his nights wrapped around Ginny. But the mornings, the mornings are for Draco. Title: Throwing Rocks at Your Window Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Summary: 'Maybe it's worth the risk' was possibly the worst, most Gryffindor thought that Draco could have acted on. At least London's rainy weather fits his mood. Title: where my demons hide Pairing: Regulus Black/James Potter Summary: When Sirius Black flees home he inadvertently condemns his brother. Together Sirius and James claw their way to the top of society and the front lines of the war to try and protect the younger Black. Sirius defies the world as a hit-wizard racking up kills for fun while James plays the role of young Pureblood Lord, dining with Lord Voldemort to gain information while providing a safe haven for spies. Three men whose entire identities have been moulded around a conflict that is now over. Where do they go from here? Title: The Winds of Change Pairing: Justin Finch-Fletchley/Ernie Macmillan Summary: All the big changes in Ernie's life seemingly had been prompted by a change in the wind. HET Title: A Longed For Feeling Pairing: Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini Summary: Missed chances lead Hermione to take the lead herself. Well, sort of. Title: Add a Dash of Confidence Pairing: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson Summary: Neville and Pansy are both dismayed when Professor McGonagall asks Pansy to help Neville get caught up in Potions. Title: Cozy Days Like These Pairing: James Potter/Lily Evans Summary: A snowstorm hits Godric's Hollow, but the Potters don't mind one bit. Title: Record Heat Wave, but the Greenhouse is Hotter Pairing: Neville Longbottom/Rose Weasley Summary: Rose Weasley didn't expect a record heatwave when she signed up to work in the Greenhouse at Hogwarts over the summer. She also didn't expect to shag Professor Longbottom. Title: spring rain in england Pairing: James Potter/Lily Evans Summary: There’s a small flood which makes James spiral a little. Fortunately, his wife is there to be the voice of reason. POLY Title: The Apokalypsis of (Flobber-) Wurm Pairing: Luna Lovegood/Theodore Nott/Harry Potter Summary: It’s raining flobberworms across Britain. Title: Lazy Summer Day Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Severus Snape Summary: Harry, Draco, and Severus have sex on the beach.

[hansolmates]

distance learning (m)

banner done by the beautiful @eerieedits​

summary; after their first hookup, jungkook isn’t so sure whether you’re serious about being exclusive. after all, people say things during sex. jungkook takes it in his own hands to figure out where you stand, and he realizes soon enough that eavesdropping is a bad habit pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, crack, insecure!jk, unresolved sexual tension, stressed!mc, this is really just unnecessary drama bc drama is fun™, sexting, dom kook’s still a meanie in control, posession kink, cock slapping, a blowjob, cockwarming, unprotected, creampie, squirting, (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) and of course the excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 6.1k a/n; haaaaaa three months later im finally posting pt 2! i figured that no matter how many times i edit/reread at this point i think it’s time to finally let this beast go!!! enjoyyy click here for part 1: remote learning drabbles; 01

if you enjoy this, please considering giving our pasta couple a like n’share💚

It’s been a week since the thing.

The remote-controlled vibrator thing. 

The whole sappy-love-confesion-during-sex thing. 

Jungkook is antsy, tail tucked in, perpetually wondering whether he went too far. You seemed to like it, and Jungkook definitely loved it. It was spicy and dirty and hot, and at the same time Jungkook thought he really made progress in expressing his feelings for you. Not only that, you said you liked him back!

At least, he thought you did. 

“I really said I’d feed her lasagna and cum in the same sentence,” Jungkook bemoans into his pillow, which still lingers faintly of your Redken shampoo. “I’m disgusting. She thinks I’m disgusting.” 

People say things during sex, Jungkook knows that. In the throes of passion and pleasure, people will say anything that comes to their mind, anything that fits the mood. Of course, you’d be tied in and say you like him back. But did you like him back as a friend? As a fuckbuddy? As something more? 

“Fucking text her,” Taehyung is tired of Jungkook’s wallowing, everytime he checks in on the app developer he’s brooding in one of three places. Today’s his bedroom. Taehyung dips under the blankets, and steals Jungkook’s pillow right under his nose.

Jungkook suppresses a whimper, face melding into the blankets. Now that pillow is going to smell like Taehyung.

“Text her what,” Jungkook replies despondently. 

“I don’t know, something along the lines of ‘I wanna follow through with my proposition of feeding you my cum and lasagna—not simultaneously. Wanna go on a date this weekend?’ It’s that simple,” Taehyung gets up in Jungkook’s face, dark eyes forcing him to bore right in. “Want me to do it for you?” 

“Noo, I’m an adult I can—”

“I did it for you.” 

Jungkook nearly knocks into Taehyung’s hard head, sitting up straight when he notices his phone behind his roommate’s back. This is what he gets for sharing passwords. Thankfully, the message is cleaner than Taehyung’s words, and you’ve already replied. 

[1:23] Jungkook: would you like to go out for dinner this weekend? pasta and wine?

[1:25] You: it’s a busy week this week 🥺 raincheck? 

“Was the sex that bad?” Taehyung frowns, reading the message twice. 

“N-no,” Jungkook is sweating. He isn’t sure anymore. 

Taehyung hands Jungkook back his phone, slowly, as if you’ll reply back with a change of your mind. Jungkook is a deflated balloon on his bed, feeling like a bum in his ratty sweater and a dateless weekend. 

“It’s just that,” Taehyung puts a hand on his lip, mulling, “busy people don’t reply that fast. Like even if she wasn’t busy, there’s a fifteen-minute leeway before replying.” 

This silly rule overrides Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the week. 

The gyms have been reopened for months, and Jungkook’s trainer misses him dearly. Jungkook meets with Saeroyi in the morning, eager to get a few jabs in with some fresh equipment. He tries to move on, distract himself with a couple of pumps and a match with Saeroyi. It feels great to sweat it off, but it doesn’t help sway Jungkook’s incessant thoughts. 

The ball is in your court now, Jungkook has nothing to do but wait. Some people are just bad texters, maybe you just happened to have your phone near you when Taehyung sent the message. Maybe you just wanted to cut Jungkook off as quickly as possible so you decided to reply fast and rip the band-aid. 

No, you’re definitely not that cold-hearted. 

Re-entering his apartment complex, his eyes linger towards where your room lies on the first floor. It’s all the way at the end of the hallway, and he’s tempted to just confront you and make sure that what you and him really had is indeed, over. Conversely, you could just really be having a bad week and you genuinely do want a raincheck. 

Jungkook’s eyes trail to his form. Still in his gym clothes, and a little sweaty from the travel time. If he gets caught, he can just tell you he’s doing a cooldown by running across the hallways. Not the first time it’s happened, afterall it led him to you at one point. 

He breaks into a soft jog, making a beeline to your front door. His feet squish against your old welcome mat. You haven’t changed it since Halloween, and he smiles fondly at the black scripted “Boo Y’all” written in script next to a chibi-ghost. 

His heart beats faster as his hand lingers by the door, ready to knock. Deep breaths. Who knows, he could just be overthinking (like usual.) 

“Fuck, Hobi!” 

Jungkook freezes, his knuckles a centimeter away from your door. He backs up as if he’s been burned. His heart has fallen all the way down to his ass, and intends to stay there because now he feels like a damn fool. 

The bed is creaking relentlessly, a rhythmic pattern that has Jungkook’s face crumbling at every spring. Jungkook’s face hovers over the door, his ear brushing against the wood. 

“C’mon, bunny,” the male voice is teasing, “you know you love having me over. It would satisfy both of us if you’d just let it go.” 

Bunny. A cute pet name, for sure. The way it rolls off the stranger’s tongue is natural, as if he’s been saying it for years. But what about being his doll, is that not good enough? 

You’re huffy, taking deep breaths. He doesn’t want to hear anymore. Jungkook has put himself through enough self-wallowing for the week. What if he was just a stepping stone to meeting new people that will satisfy you better? What if you just needed one good orgasm to get your flow back, and Jungkook’s job is done? Sure, there were no strings attached when he proposed to have sex with you, but he thought… 

No more thinking. Jungkook jogs away from the door, even going so far is to jog all the way up to the penthouse. 

He hates this. 

You hate this. 

It’s been five days since Hoseok’s arrival, and you are going bonkers. Why couldn’t he get a hotel or an AirBnB? Because he’s cheap as fuck, that’s why. Your dinky cousin has been clinging to you like a lonely koala, and while you found it cute in the 5th grade, it doesn’t translate well nearly two decades later. 

Every morning is the same. You make a subpar toast and Nutella breakfast, letting Hoseok’s slices go cold as you log in for work. You’ve been clocking in earlier in the hopes to finish the majority of your tasks before Hoseok wakes up, because by then you can barely function. Once he wakes up, he’s relentless, bouncing on the bed and talking your head off while you try to concentrate on whatever your boss is telling you. Whenever he jumps too hard, your cheap mattress causes your laptop to fly, and the only thing you can do is curse him out. Sometimes he plays Disney movies and sings in tandem, choreography and all. 

You know that Hoseok is stressed and this is his outlet, and you don’t have it in you to stop his incessant habits. He’s visiting your area because of a lucrative job offer nearby and the interviews are sporadic, making Hoseok linger in your apartment for hours at a time until he’s summoned for whatever test they want to throw at him. 

Most of the interviews are in the evening, and it’s when you can clock back in and finish your leftover assignments while Hoseok is also working. By the time he returns, you’re dog tired and so is he. 

Every night, you try to move away from Hoseok’s clingy self, as he grapples onto your waist and slings a thigh over your belly. You wish it were someone else sharing the bed with you. 

If you bring Jungkook into the picture however, you’d be burnt for the week. Complete crumbs. It would be too much stimulation for you, having to balance work, Hoseok’s incessant attitude, and putting on a face for Jungkook. Your relationship with the penthouse neighbor is barely budding, hardly watered considering Hoseok’s sudden visit. You cling to the fact that in a couple days you would be giving your undivided attention to Jungkook, most of your priorities out of the way, and most importantly, you’ll have your own room back. 

Maybe you could surprise him by giving him a pasta dinner, just like he proposed. 

Unable to get the thought out of your head, you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. It’s late, very late for a workday. The blue screen burns your eyes a bit, but you're determined to at least check up on Jungkook. You can’t take too long, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep and get him out of your head. Dear, unassuming cousin Hoseok is fast asleep next to you, due to the fact it’s nearly midnight. Making sure not to disrupt him, you carefully cup your phone in your hands, putting it on the lowest light setting. 

[11:54] You: hey, hope work hasnt been as draining for u as it’s been for me  ☠️  what’s your opinion on pasta sauces, red or white? 

Jungkook is normally a fast texter, at least from your experience. It’s you that’s the sporadic texter, sometimes taking hours to reply, other times in seconds. It never really mattered until now, however. But it takes five, ten, and finally fifteen minutes before you get a response. 

[12:09] Jungkook: ??? 

You frown, wondering what you said wrong. 

[12:10] You: do you not wanna do pasta anymore? Are you craving something else now?

[12:10] Jungkook: i don’t think it’d work out 

[12:10] You: why? 

[12:11] Jungkook: im sure you know why, bunny. 

Strange. He’s never called you bunny before, and in your opinion you think he’d be the bunny in the relationship—soft and cuddly on the outside, and an absolute horn ball in bed. Is this some sort of weird power play? Is he being passive aggressive on purpose? Whatever this game is, you’re not into it. Grumbling under your breath, you snake out of bed, looking blindly for your slippers in the dark. You’ll be in and out of Jungkook’s apartment in ten minutes. 

Just as your hand brushes the doorknob, your new roommate calls for you. 

“Bunny?” Hoseok calls blearily, and you’re staring straight at his cookie-printed eye mask, “what time is it, where are you going?” 

“Um, out,” you reply shortly, “I forgot I left my laundry in the dryer.” 

“Oh, m’kay. Come back soon, y’know I can’t sleep alone.” 

It’s then you realize. Bunny. Jungkook thinks that Hoseok and you are a thing. He really needs to stop eavesdropping on you. 

You feel your pussy frown. Your cousin is such a cockblock and he doesn’t even know it. Without an answer, you slip through your door and into the first free elevator. As you zing up the floors with the magical 1234 code, you work and rework your hair in and out of its style, wondering if you’ll look more presentable with your hair messy or thrown back. 

As soon as you reach the penthouse, you burst into action. “Jungkook!” you cry, pounding the front door, “it’s a misunderstanding, open up!” 

The door immediately swings open after the first three knocks, and you punch Taehyung in the chest. 

“You look awful,” Kim Taehyung drawls. Taehyung is wearing nothing but a cranberry red silk kimono, and you have to avert your eyes and focus on his face, which is even worse because he’s looking at you like an all-knowing psychic. 

“Gee, thanks,” you try to move past him, but he’s blocking the door. 

“Jungkook’s in a meeting with some foriegn developers,” Taehyung talks with his hands, pretending like he has any idea of the nature of his roommate’s job, “when it’s this late he doesn’t leave his office until morning. Door’s locked.” 

“Well then, can you relay a message?” 

“Depends, is this message going to hurt him further?” 

Oh my goodness, when Taehyung wants to be he is such an enabler. “Tell Jungkook he’s done wallowing. Instead of jumping to conclusions, maybe he should’ve just asked me why we couldn’t go on a date this week.” 

“You could’ve also just told him you have a man on the side.” 

“Ohmygod you two are two iotas of a combined braincell!” you shove your hands in your pocket, hotly scrolling through your phone so you can shove a picture in his face. “This is Jung Hoseok, my cousin who derailed my plans this week by crashing in my too-tiny apartment and forced me to raincheck with Jungkook. He’s a blabbermouth and would tell everyone—my parents, my grandparents, my great-aunts—about Jungkook if he found out I was dating, and I’m not ready for that,” you zoom in on the picture, despite the fact that the screen is practically touching Taehyung’s nose, “and the reason Hoseok calls me bunny is not sexual—you two are fucking gross—I had front tooth problems in elementary school and I had a brace on my two big teeth, it was not pretty.” 

“Ah, bunny.” Taehyung echoes with wide eyes, looking at you as if you’re now the one with sage wisdom, “it all makes sense now.” He gulps, taking in the old photo of a mini-Hoseok and you, yourself frowning to cover your huge braces and Hoseok trying to pull your gums apart with his greasy little fingers. 

Satisfied by Taehyung’s evident squirming, you decide you’re too tired to further this interaction. “Tell the other half of your cell for me, will ya?” You’re already turning away, pressing repeatedly at the elevator button, “I would love to go on a date with him as soon as he gets his head out of his ass.” 

Jungkook is tired, but not tired enough to murder Taehyung and make it look like an accident. 

When he has late meetings, Taehyung is usually quieter around the apartment, and even gets Jungkook a hot meal once he wakes up in the afternoons. Today, Jungkook slept through and through. Normally he’d wake up midway to Taehyung’s television dramas, or the clanging of last night’s dishes but nope, not a peep. 

And today’s hot meal is takeout from Jungkook’s favorite ramen restaurant. That only means one thing—something has gone to shit and Taehyung feels guilty. 

Jungkook sips his tonkotsu impossibly slow, hearing Taehyung’s words—your words from last night—clear as day. Taehyung even describes in detail where the nickname bunny comes from, down to how miserable you looked in the photo with your monstrously metal-bent teeth. Oh, how he wishes he can swaddle you between the blankets, hold you and comfort you while you deal with your family. 

[2:45] Jungkook: doll, im so sorry

[2:45] Jungkook: please, i booked us a weekend at that new spa that just opened downtown. The tickets are flex, so if your cousin doesn’t leave by then week we can always reschedule 

[2:51] Jungkook: baby doll… 

This is far worse than believing you didn’t like him. Now Jungkook is antsy, knowing you deserve all the space in the world because of how silly he was being. You owe him nothing. If he just waited it out until you were ready, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s potato-esque throughout the day, thankfully Taehyung gives him space as he watches hours of mindless television. 

You don’t reply until very late into the night. 

[10:10] You: IM ALIVE--barely!! And mr. jeon, you’re not only a triple texter, but an ellipsis texter???? You’re asking for trouble

Jungkook has no shame, immediately texting you back. He can’t help it, he’s smitten. 

[10:12] Jungkook: taehyung explained everything. It’s all his fault. Don’t ask why, it’s his fault. Im so sorry. 

[10:12] You: mm, it’s okay. Just a misunderstanding. I was pretty upset last night, but i’ve been pretty tired this week so my fuse is short. 

[10:14] Jungkook: you should go to sleep now, doll. We’ll have time together after your cousin leaves

[10:14] You: just a couple more minutes. Miss u and your cute face 

[10:16] Jungkook: 

[10:16] Jungkook: will this hold u off until saturday?

Jungkook is a pile of goo. Pink, warm, happy heart-glittered goo. It takes a minute for you to reply, and for that whole minute Jungkook is kicking his legs under the sheets of his bed like an eager five-year old who just gave his crush his Valentine. Maybe it’s taking you so long to reply because you’re trying to send a selfie of your own, running off to the bathroom to take a cute selfie if your cousin is asleep in bed. 

[10:19] You: fuck, i kno that’s supposed to be a cute selfie, but i want you so bad. I want to sit on your face, let your lips glisten with my pussy as i cum all over that pretty face

[10:19] You: i wanna touch myself so badly but fuckin’ hoseok is out here snoring like he’s gon hack a lung. Panties are so wet 🥺🥺 your doll is needy for you, wanna be played with

[10:20] Jungkook: lfjsdl;fkjs;fjsoisfoisljsdfsdklfjsdklf 

He throws his phone across the bed, feeling himself twitch in his red flannel pyjama bottoms. The thought of you so hot and needy when you’re ten floors down has Jungkook absolutely livid. He doesn’t know how he’s going to talk to you, comfort you without missing you like crazy. 

Jungkook thinks back to what he has in his fridge. His contractor sent him a cheese assortment, maybe he can bring it down pretending to be a friendly neighbor. Maybe Hoseok can go to the convenience store to conveniently grab a bottle of wine. He can make both of you cum in five minutes, flat. 

Akin to a dumb, horny teenager, he sighs. He rubs his palm longingly over his member. He’s horny, but he’s also eager to see your face. Talk to you, get reacquainted with your routine and sneak his way into it. He wants to be a part of your life, and he’s hoping you will too. 

[5:02] You: Jungkook, you left me hanging last night

[5:05] Jungkook: baby doll… i wouldnt have been able to handle myself if we continued

[5:06] You: so you decided to dip :( 

[5:06] You: could u play with your doll a lil bit, kook? Hobi left for another interview

[5:08] You: PNG.0901

Jungkook was a fool to believe that you would drop him like that. No, Jungkook can see now that you two are a match made in heaven. You have a bite, never afraid to speak your mind when needed. This translates to a hunger you shamelessly share with Jungkook, both sexual and romantically intimate. He almost wishes he could’ve seen you act like a bitch to Taehyung last night, he can only imagine how sexy you looked telling him off. 

He has the technology to blow up your picture, the one that’s currently having him close his laptop and shove it to the side. He spreads his legs further across his glass desk, trying to find comfort between his tight pants as he absorbs every bit of your skin. 

It’s nothing too risque, but it’s nothing short of sensual. The room is dark, but it’s very clearly a picture of your hand between your thighs. Again, you’re between your wall and bed, squished between your office chair with your legs spread as far as they can go. Your skin is so soft looking, plush as you press two fingers between your damp panties. Adorable. 

[5:12] Jungkook: you know why i never replied last night? Because i was too busy jacking off to your dirty words doll. U really need your mouth washed

[5:12] You: wanna wash it with something else🍆

[5:12] You: please kook, i need something. Hoseok will come home soon and i might rip his head off. Help prevent a murder

Jungkook chuckles, clutching his phone closer to his body. He loves how much you’re opening up to him. Last week feels like so long ago, how you were all flushed and wide-eyed at the proposition of sex. He thinks you two can have a lot of fun getting to know each other, both emotionally and physically. 

[5:15] Jungkook: i was gonna wait until i sent this, but i think my doll needs it. Here’s what i was doing last night

[5:17] Jungkook: MP4.13

He… has a meeting in five minutes. A very important, very serious meeting. Jungkook jacked off enough last night, now it’s your turn. He hopes you like it. It’s not a very long video, barely a twenty-second clip of him fisting his cock. Taehyung was still home at the time, so he had to keep quiet. However, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head that night, rubbing your thighs together in a cramped mattress as you try to erase the dirty thoughts of him. A murmur of your name, and the image of his precum dripping down his knuckles. You hope it’s enough. 

[5:34] You: u make everything so much easier💜✨

[5:35] You: MP4.234

Two minutes. The video you send is even shorter than his, barely fifteen seconds. You’re in a much more comfortable position, horizontal on the bed. Your shirt is ridden up to the underside of your breasts, one hand clutching your bare breast so hard he can see your cotton plush skin bulging between your fingers. The other hand has your panties shifted to the side, three fingers in your sopping cunt. 

“Mmh—fuck, f-uck Jungkook—” the words are mere breaths, puffs of air as you reach your orgasm. 

His call connects. He nearly drops his phone on the glass.  

“Jungkook!” Andreas from Germany wishes him brightly, “you look great, glowing even!” 

Jungkook blushes, and mutters something about having to go to the bathroom before they start. 

Taehyung makes himself scarce on Saturday. He packs a duffel bag for himself and takes the PlayStation, knowing it’ll be a long weekend at Jimin’s. 

Jungkook is on livewire for the morning. He even express-delivers a pasta roller to his house, and he spends all morning testing out the perfect pasta dough. His black apron is covered in flour, and he can barely comprehend the tutorial that’s teaching him on his flatscreen. 

He’s on autopilot. He hasn’t contacted you since he sent that selfie, and he doesn’t intend to. Jungkook understands why you made yourself scarce in the beginning of the week, preferring to raincheck and pin your relationship for a better time. Jungkook’s brain is overridden with you, swollen with thoughts of you. You would never be able to focus if you kept in contact like you did last night, especially if you can’t get away from Hoseok. 

Absence surely makes the heart grow fonder. 

Slapping his hands against his trousers, he surveys his handiwork. His pasta is appropriately floured and wrung, each handful of fresh dough wrapped in little nests. Off the stove is a bechamel sauce, a base ready to be cooked in whatever kind of pasta dish you want. He thinks the two of you would have fun making your own non-traditional pasta dishes. 

The soft knocks on his front door interrupts his train of thought, and he knows it’s you. 

You stand in front of the door, impossibly small in a large shirt and a plain pair of leggings. At the sight of Jungkook, a smile as warm and sweet as hot chocolate worms its way to your face, and you collapse into his arms. 

He sighs gratefully, sinking into your small body. When he pulls away, he can’t help but frown at your apparent exhaustion. You must’ve come back from something tedious, because sweat dots your brow and your eyes are still puffy and dark. Your chest arches bonelessly into his, hoping to melt in his embrace. 

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey,” he replies. 

“It’s Saturday.” 

“It is Saturday.” 

You rub your nose between the fabric of his button down, “I should’ve been more specific when I wanted to raincheck on you,” you murmur into the white cotton. 

“No, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” Jungkook whispers, even though you’re the only two people on the floor, “I’ll make it better, yeah? I’m going to love you so good tonight, won’t have to lift a finger—” 

You shake your head, looking at him calmly. “Jungkook, it’s been a long week. Hobi got the job, I spent all this morning moving his two-ton speaker set into his new apartment. I don’t want anything gentle. I want you to rail me into next week,” Jungkook chokes on his saliva when you reach to cup his dick through his pants, already sporting a chub, “fuck me breathless. I want—no, I need this.”

Anything for you, but Jungkook isn’t going to let your mouth runneth over that easily. He wants that too, obviously. But again, you’ve made him wait. 

Bending slightly, Jungkook whispers darkly into your ear, “Who said you can decide the rules here, doll?”  he’s been waiting all week to slip back into this persona, one that has you shivering delightfully under his touch. A small, secret smile tucks itself under your lips as you tilt your head down, but Jungkook catches it. It shows you’ve missed it too. He lets your sneaky smile  slide for now, only because he’s missed you so much and you’ve had a long day. 

“If I wanna fuck you rough, I’ll fuck you rough. If I want to edge you until you're sobbing on the corner of the kitchen table, I’ll do it,” Jungkook spits every declaration into your skin, biting at your shoulder so hard you cry deliciously. 

He drags you over to the living room, and he could sing at how easily you follow directions. Both of you have been tied up this week, and some hard sex would definitely ease that frustration, “Knees,” Jungkook commands, and you waste no time sinking to the floor, hands atop your knees. 

You look up through your lashes, eyes big and glassy. His poor girl is tired, and he finds it all the more attractive that you’re willing to push that aside to make eachother feel good. 

“Pretty, pretty,” he chants, pulling down his pants and letting his dick spring free, “suck.” 

You waste no time, and he watches as your eyes dilate over the expanse of his cock, half-hard and ready for your mouth. Your nails dig into your knees as you start with featherlight kisses, finally turning into sloppy smacks as you lick all over his dick. 

Jungkook groans, weaving a hand into your hair to force his dick down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion, but it doesn’t stop you from taking it like a champ. Hard, deep thrusts that he’s sure you can feel all the way in your stomach. You gag at each thrust, but don’t let up as your hot tongue wraps him up and licks at the pre-cum. 

“Fuuuuck, doll,” he rips you away, his now hard dick springing away. He’s a little shaky on his knees, but he plants his feet down as he grips his cock, slapping the tip of it across your cheek. It smears your face, glossing your flushed cheeks in a mixture of your saliva and pre-cum. “Are you trying to make me cum first? So sweet, you don’t even care if you cum tonight, hmm? You owe me, making you believe you had another man.” 

This isn’t true, of course. The both of you know it was just miscommunication, but it doesn’t hurt to play it up for pleasure. 

“N-no Kook, I’m yours,” you grapple at his pants, pulling them down so he can get them off completely. 

“Right. You’re. Mine.” With every punctuated word is a light slap to your cheek, and you take it. His cock bounces right off of you, until you finally move your head to suckle at the engorged tip, “I’m keeping you forever, doll. Don’t you know that?” 

Throughout this whole process, you don’t move, other than the minute clawing at your knees. You’re so good to him. Jungkook pulls away and ignores the ache in his member for now, taking off your clothes for himself. It’s like unwrapping a gift, revealing every bit of skin reserved for his viewing. “So sexy,” he remarks once he’s got you bare, pulling you onto the couch. He’s still in his button down shirt, his date night shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. However, he lets your hands inch under the stiff fabric, feeling for his taut muscle. 

He guides your aching cunt to his cock, sinking you down. It’s a tight fit, and you both moan at the brush of contact. Despite not being prepped, you’re still slick, and it makes up for it. He doesn’t thrust up or anything, just guides his lips to yours with a threadbare brush of his finger. 

“Kook, d-do you want me to move?” you mumble against his cherry-flavored lip balm. 

“Good dolls don’t move until they’re told,” your eyes widen innocently at the statement, and you crumple against his mouth, at his next words, “cum like this.” 

“Awh shit, please no,” you tear up, burying your head between the crook of his neck, “I can’t wait.” 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you into next week. You can’t do this one little favor for me?” he’s being so mean, and you hate him for it. Haven’t you earned it? “C’mon baby, I thought you wanted me?” 

It’s silent, save for the soft Italian restaurant music playing from whatever tutorial he’s hooked up to his television. It’s terribly cliche, like you’re in the porno version of a European romance movie. He thinks nothing of it, not when your juices are dripping on his thighs, your skin soft and pliant in his grip. Jungkook drums his fingers against your spine, seemingly uncaring that you’re stuffed deep into your womb. 

On the other hand, it’s the only thing you’re acutely aware of. His thick, warm cock is nestled between your folds, right where it should be. You clench once, twice, thankful that this isn’t some crazed wet dream. States of sleep and consciousness have blurred this week, you’re lucky that you made it all the way up to Jungkook’s apartment. 

You can’t cum like this. You need to bait him. You moan, the sound slow and rumbly against your throat as you weave your fingers through his dark tresses. Moving the strands aside to kiss his cold metal earrings you murmur, “I love this, Kookoo. I’ve wanted you all week, I was going crazy. I kept playing last week in my head over and over. I even put in my little vibrator, hoping you’d pull up the app.” 

Jungkook’s teeth clench, and his grip is borderline painful as it digs into your hips. 

“I haven’t been able to cum all week, and I want to do it all over you,” you husk, playing with the roots of his hair. 

You can feel yourself dripping, wetness lubricating you even further and probably staining his thighs and couch with your arousal. Every second that passes is killer, and the fluttering towards your pussy tighten further as Jungkook’s cock twitches in response. Your pussy continues its ministrations, butterfly-like flaps against his hot member that have you vibrating.

“Mm, oh, I’ll cum for you,” and surprisingly, you might be able to. All this dirty talking has gotten you riled up. Just a little bit more and—

Jungkook shoves you off his cock, forcing you to land on the couch. 

“No!” you cry, wiping your face. Your cheeks are ruddied, and you’re annoyed. The coolness of the autumn air has you feeling chilly, and you want to scream at Jungkook for disrupting your orgasm. You feel empty. 

You’re not annoyed for long however, as Jungkook flips you on your back and gives you what you’ve been craving. 

“You glide right in, don’t ya doll,” the friction is deliciously blazing, his hands pushing you further into the large couch as he takes you from behind. Hot, fast smacks against your ass come from the way his balls bounce back and forth as he pistons his cock in and out. “F-fuck, you’re so good to me. So good, I love having you like this. All pretty and dripping, you really know how to make a guy wait, huh?” 

“Mmph! N-no—hng, but I’m y-yours, Kook,” you garble out, and you’re practically eating the throw pillow you’re propped up on as he slams you further into the cushions, so hard you may fall off, “all yours, honey. N-no more waiting. I want you, want you so badly—ah fuck!” 

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it,” he says over and over, his thrusts becoming sporadic and losing their rhythm once he feels you clenching uncontrollably. He presses his two fingers to your sloppy bud, swirling around the juices eagerly. “C-cum, baby doll. You deserve it, yeah? Cum on this cock, let go.” 

You’re starting to see spots, black and white alike. Finally shying away from his cock you rest on your back, but Jungkook doesn’t stop his fingers from flying across your clit. One look at his face and you’re gone. Pretty brown eyes, overflowing with affection. The feeling is different, and it’s the acute pressure between your stomach and pussy that makes you notice what’s going on with your body. The pressure finally releases, your eyes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek on the cushions. You dissolve, a mess on the couch as white hot liquid ejects from your body, spraying Jungkook’s thighs and cushions. 

“Y-you just,” your lover’s mouth is parted open like a baby kitten, uncaring as to how the dark liquid stains his couch fabric. 

“Squirted?” you answer breathlessly, a melty smile on your lips, “y-yeah.” 

 It sets him off, a button left dormant until now. The thatches of hair that surround his cock are dripping with your mess, a cold reminder that he got you to this high. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his cock back into you, and you gasp at the overstimulation. You try not to focus on how your body is a bundle of lit nerves, only to help Jungkook reach his completion. 

“S-so perfect,” he warbles, pressing kisses to your jaw, chin, lips. Each thrust is deep, thick and heady with emotion. “Mm, I wanna cream this pussy sooo badly—mm, all mine, all wet and warm and so so sweet—” 

He cries out your name, biting into your shoulder as your walls fill further with his hot cream. Your thighs are shaking from sensory overload, and Jungkook has to hold you down and soothe you into a state of reality to cling on. 

Satiated, he nuzzles into your chest, feeling absolutely featherlight. 

“T-thank you,” you say gratefully, when at least three out of your five senses return to your body. Your hands dip down to clutch his cheek, pinching lightly at the warm skin.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jungkook exhales into your breasts, “d-didn’t even feed you my cum yet.” 

You scoff, pinching his cheek again. You’re aware of his softening cock between your folds, ready to seep the efforts of today’s coupling, but your stomach says otherwise. You crane your neck to make note of the kitchen island, staring curiously at the metal pasta roller and the little nests of carby goodness that decorate the cutting board. 

“Feed me pasta first, please. You have all night to feed me dessert.” 

Jungkook giggles into your stomach, he doesn’t mind feeding you in that order. 

bonus.

“So.” 

“So?” you have cream sauce on your lips, happily slurping on an angel hair. 

“You haven’t told me you liked me back yet,” Jungkook rests his palm in the swell of his cheek, content with watching you eat from where he’s standing on the counter. He leans his upper body across the marble table, muscles rippling against his white shirt. 

“Oh, I did!” you’re affronted, swinging your legs on the high chair, “I totally did last week!” 

“Yeah, well. Can you say it while I’m not inside you?” 

“Okay,” you blink, quirking him with a simple smile, “I like you.” 

“That was anticlimactic,” Jungkook jokes at the brevity of your confession, yet his heart betrays the charm he finds in the three words. 

You scoff, jabbing your fork in the little next of springy noodles. “What do you want to hear? I’ve wanted you since I’ve moved in? I think you’re really handsome when you pace the hallway doing work on your phone? I like the way you cook?” 

“Keep going,” Jungkook sing songs, walking over to hug you from behind.

The stool swings back and forth as he rocks the two of you, softly and slowly so you don’t throw up your dinner. He noses into your neck, inhaling your scent and committing it to your memory. 

“Mm, dessert first,” you insist, twirling around the stool so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “And then I can tell you exactly how much I like you,” your fingers play with the buttons of his shirt, walking the pads of your fingers across his chest. 

Jungkook grins, hands reaching to cup your bottom and bring you to his bedroom. Of course, he’s always willing to satisfy your insatiable appetite. 

[writingwithcolor]

Tragedy Exploitation and Characters of Colour

hi! i've browsed your blog for a while now and it's been really helpful to me, so first off, thank you. i was wondering about something tho, i recently saw your response to a person explaining their story idea that revolved around two lovers, where one was cursed to kill the other and the other was always resurrected only for it to repeat, and i believe the characters were POC. in your response you seemed quite upset that such a plot was happening to POC characters specifically and it confused me because it sort of read as if you were mad that a bad thing was happening to a POC character in a story, which i genuinely didn't understand (i really don't want to sound rude, i'm being sincere), because it came off as advocating for only good and happy and nice things to be reserved for POC characters and if an author dared write something bad or traumatic happening to a POC character it's immediately 'poor narrative', and i personally don't agree with that take, because i feel like that reduces a POC character to just being POC instead of a person, which I feel like hurts POC rep in fiction, because being upset someone wrote something bad happening to a POC character makes it all about just that character being POC instead of just a regular person something bad has happened to in the story that just happens to be a person of color at the same time. my god this has gotten long, i got very interested in hearing more about this because i personally didn't quite understand and it sounded wrong to me, your original response. if you do reply to this, thank you, i hope i didn't sound rude, i do genuinely want to learn, because even tho i typed all this out i still feel like i'm wrong about this & missed the point somewhere

Disclaimer: please do not pile onto the ask about a Black woman murdered by her lover, as the asker has realized the issues with the ask. We are presently addressing the attitude of “why can’t bad things happen to PoC?” in this comment, with the name retracted, because it’s an attitude that crops up every once and awhile.

-

You have missed our extensive backlog of posts about double standards re: PoC and white characters, wherein we describe, at length, how we are uncomfortable that PoC characters get extra bad stuff that’s treated as “organic” because our history is full of suffering, when white characters often don’t get that same thing.

like White Authors and Topics to Avoid/Tread Carefully

and Writing About PoC Trials and Tribulations

We ask that people question why they decide to automatically make someone suffering a violent constant-death-loop be a person of colour, especially multiply marginalized (Black, woman, LGBTQ+). Because there are already too many stories of characters of colour (especially multiply marginalized) suffering needlessly and oftentimes worse than the white characters for the sake of a plot.

You completely misread the heart of the reply, which was “why are you forcing Black women to suffer the worst fate imaginable (murder) in one of the most emotionally heartbreaking way imaginable (at the hands of your lover) multiple times in order to “earn her happy ending”? this is tragedy exploitation and is making a mockery of trauma”

PoC already have enough stories about us traumatized by circumstance. And while we can suffer, narratively, part of systemic racism is only telling stories of PoC when we are suffering as the sole marker of the plot. Especially when characters of colour are suffering disproportionately to lighter skinned characters.

You also missed the part where Marika said that even if it were white characters, they would be uncomfortable because constantly pulling out murder as a curse is lazy writing.

All we ask is: why did the asker decide that a woman of colour must suffer to the point of repeated murder before she can be happy? Why does she have to forgive the person who did it to her? Because that is a logic born of passive racism that tells people: women of colour, especially darker skinned/Black women, can “handle anything”. And that is a lie.

~Mod Lesya

Echoing Lesya, I’m puzzled as to how you came to the conclusion that “If an author dared to write something bad or traumatic happening to a POC character, it’s immediately a poor narrative” when I explicitly said I thought this was cheap theatrics and tragedy exploitation even if both characters were white, particularly as the ask had given me no conception of the author’s motivation in using the curse as a dramatic device. In Japanese, we jokingly use the word 中二病 (Chuunibyo) or “8th grade disease” to describe edgelord phases for teens. This is a 中二病 plot device. It’s perfectly fine for niche angst addicts on ao3, but not something I would be able to take seriously in a more substantive work aimed at a larger audience. I think it is also telling that even the original asker has commented that they independent of our answer concluded this was a poor plot choice.

Finally, with respect to your question of the usage of negative tropes like the ones mentioned in this ask (Misogynoir and Bury Your Gays), I am concerned that you do not understand the motive for this blog. Our purpose is to provide instruction to those who wish to use diversity in their writing in an inclusive manner in ways that resonate with marginalized populations. We are not proposing a ban on tropes. They are tools, but like all tools, they have appropriate forms of use. Do you honestly think that many BIPOC individuals would be happy to read a story with this kind of tragedy exploitation? And how would you, as an author, factor in their impressions when writing your own works?

No one can stop a writer from pursuing the narratives they wish to pursue, but the opinions a writer is primarily concerned with says a lot about who a writer believes their work is for. Let us say I were to write a story with a gratuitous depiction of sexual assault purely for the shock value, despite never having experienced sexual assault myself? How might survivors of sexual assault regard both me and my work? Now imagine BIPOC individuals whose main experience with representation in media is seeing characters look like them die from the kinds of violence that are common for them to experience, and it should become clear that an author who adopts these approaches, at a bare minimum, is being exceptionally tactless. A writer who finds no issue with tragedy exploitation involving BIPOC characters is likely not a writer who cares about what the BIPOC members of their audience think, or, even worse, does not even factor BIPOC perspectives into their writing.

- Marika

[luvyanfei]

anon said. how about fluffy hcs with xiao, zhongli and xingqui taking their s/o out on a first date?

XIAO.

he already finds it difficult just to ask you to hold him without losing his cool, so how can he possibly bring up the idea of inviting you on a date? actually, he probably never knew the word ‘date’ even existed until he heard a passing couple staying over at wangshu inn dreamily talking about how they wish they could go to see the lantern rite festival in liyue harbor together for their first date. a first date, huh? now that he thinks about it, xiao never did properly try to court you, did he? it was always you who approached him first, who held your hand out to him, who confessed that you love him. you’re already giving so much dedication in this relationship. it’s the least he can do to return your affections, not just because he’s feeling a bit indebted, but because he’s your lover. unfortunately, being the awkward yaksha that he is, xiao overthinks the situation and complicates it more than he should.

every chance he gets is blown up by his anxiousness. whenever you come and visit him at the inn, you almost think that he’s angry with you from the way he throws you vicious glares. unbeknownst to you, xiao is actually making that tense face because he’s trying very hard, too hard in fact, to think of the best way to ask you out on a date and seeing you just makes him all the more nervous. he regrets it every time you step into the elevator while giving him a goodbye wave and saying you’ll come visit again. sure, he gets another chance to try and ask you out again, but he also has another chance to fail as well.

when you visit him for lunch, xiao quickly rehearses the words he wants to say to you in the back of his head before coming to greet you. ‘i overheard from a guest in the inn talking about a lantern rite festival. if you mortal, no, [name], desires to go, i can possibly set aside time to accompany you.’ keep it cool, yet short. taking a deep breath to compose himself, xiao walks over to greet you, er, well actually, you’re the one doing the greeting instead, and you settle down to eat. the sweet taste of the almond tofu that you generously bought for him blossoms in his mouth and he loses track of time till your departure. before you leave once more to allow the poor yaksha to wallow in his self-regret again, you stop yourself and turn around to face xiao. tucking your hair behind your ear and giving your best, most radiant smile you can offer to him, you shyly ask if he’d like to tag along with you to the lantern rite festival. “we’ve never been on a date before and i’d love to go to the festival with you and release xiao lanterns together.”

... what? how? his mouth almost opens up in disbelief, as he struggles to keep a stoic expression. ex-excuse him?! that’s supposed to be his line! he’s in shock at how easily you were able to say something that he’s been having trouble sputtering out. you mortals never fail to surprise him. he shakes his head and bitterly scowls, that you almost step back in fright. almost, until he starts speaking, that is. “why is it you? i should have been the one to ask you on a date first, not you!” he’s almost on the brink of tears from the frustration he currently holds on himself. 

a relationship is always about give and take, no? it’s like when zhongli has so kindly decided to save him from the clutches of the cruel abuse he endured endlessly, of course he was forever in debt to rex lapis. surely, it’s the same with you, isn’t it? when xiao tells you this, you immediately start laughing. you calmly explain to him that your relationship isn’t like a form of contract where he’s expected to always repay you back for every gift you give to him. as long as he’s there for you, that’s more than enough of a reward, you say, before plopping a chaste kiss to his cheek.  

“finally, you’re here. what took you so long?” xiao speaks to you with indifference concealing the relief that you actually came. he trails his sharp eyes to inspect your dressed up form and blushes slightly. “you look nice.”

immediately, your eyes widen at his underhanded compliment. did- did you hear that right? biting his lower lip gently, xiao clasps your hand in his, ignoring your astounded reaction, as he squeezes it reassuringly while watching the colourful fireworks light up the murky night.

without thinking, he turns to you when you’re focused on the display of bursting lights reflecting in your eyes, and murmurs to himself softly, “i hope you’ll spend the rest of your time with me, for however long it’ll last.”

XINGQIU.

of course, a date with xingqiu has to be extravagant and sophisticated to the last touch, right? guess again. he may come from a wealthy family, but that doesn’t mean he shares the same interest a selfish, pampered noble may have. he prefers something more simple, yet sentimental. confined in his household with nothing to do but bury his head in a book, he’s picked up some ideas for your date from the romance stories he’s read. surprisingly, they’re all rather cliché.  

the first thing he makes you guys do is go out in the blazing summer day to get yourselves a cool beverage. he explicitly asks the cashier to give him one straw [do they even exist in the game?] and smiles slyly as he thanks them and brings the drinks to you. when you ask about it, thinking that maybe he forgot, all he does is smirk before saying, “there’s no need, my liege. we can share, unless you’d rather melt in the sweltering sun, that is.” he winks teasingly. you... don’t really have much of a choice in the matter. as you stroll around the harbor together, you take turns drinking from the only straw and a wave of consciousness washes over you gradually. wait, isn’t this like an indirect kiss? you place a hand to your gaping mouth after sucking on the straw that xingqiu pressed his lips on merely seconds ago. you should know by now, how bold he is underneath his polite façade. 

after you finish sipping your drink - tediously at that, you both agree on going to the library to read books together since the heat is pretty unbearable to do anything enjoyable. xingqiu recommends you to try reading some of his personal favorites and you do the same as well. he’s thrilled to have a reading buddy now since it’s boring being here by himself. 

while you’re immersed in the novel that you randomly picked from the bookshelf, every now and then, xingqiu will look up from the pages of his book and faintly smile to himself, glad that you’re enjoying yourself.

the sun was setting and the stars started to appear in the pastel pink and orange of the evening sky. you place back the last book and stretch your arms, before turning to xingqiu. sighing, you give him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek and softly say your farewell.

as you’re about to make your leave for the day, xingqiu halts you with his words, “wait. there’s something i need to do before we can end this date.” nonchalantly, he plucks a book from its shelf, opens its pages, and uses it to block the sunlight drifting through the transparent window glass, effectively shielding his vision from the public eye as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

his free hand finds its way combing through the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he’s satisfied enough, the boy detaches his lips from yours and lightly rubs the flesh of your cheek with a finger, while placing the book down on a nearby table. you keep your eyes fixated on him as he licks the edges of his lips.

“that felt nice,” xingqiu murmurs, “you’re so sweet, i’d hate for anyone else to savor in this pleasant moment with you other than i. shall we continue this again on our next date too?”

ZHONGLI.

the first thing he does is make sure to bring mora, this time. it would be highly inconsiderate of mr. zhongli to have you pay for the expenses of this fine date. he’s one to take things nice and slow. sure, time is unfortunately measured and limited, but he wants to make the most of it with you, a mortal who, just like any other being, has a beginning and end to your life. zhongli wants to shower you in all the beauty and joy this world has to offer while you’re still here with him.

he may be a gentle-spoken and polite individual, but please don’t mistaken him as being shy in any way. he shows up to your residence one afternoon and presents you a bouquet of your preferred flowers while he asks if you would consider accompanying him on a date. you take the bundled up flowers, carefully stroking a petal as if it’s made of fragile glass and accepts his proposal with open arms. 

he takes you out to an expensive restaurant in the night of liyue and helps you select the best dishes. after you’re finished with your lavish and sophisticated meals, zhongli ushers you outside where you’re greeted with fresh air, a contrast to the suffocation you felt back at the restaurant. sure, the place is grand and your hunger is well-satiated, yet despite wearing your best clothing, you felt out of place there, like a commoner surrounded by nobles. 

when you express your earlier discomfort to zhongli, his eyes are filled with shame and he’s already apologizing like the gentleman he is. guiltily, you tell him it’s fine and you ask if you can show him something before you have to head on home. he ponders in thought before agreeing, walking hand in hand with you to your unknown destination. 

the chilling night breeze bites at your bare skin as you instantly shiver. this doesn’t go unnoticed in zhongli’s sharp eyes and he’s already unbuttoning his jacket. he drapes the coat over your shoulder blades and rubs his gloved hands on your cold fingertips to preserve warmth. “are you feeling cold perhaps? maybe we should head back?” you stop him before he can guide you back to the harbor. 

“i’m okay now. thank you for your concern.” you say to ease his poor mind. he nods and you both continue on. the walk uphill takes a while, but it’s worth it when you finally reach the top. your eyes widen in amazement as you witness the glimmering stars splayed across the pitch darkness of the sky. “zhongli, look. do you like it?” he simply nods, but all of his attention is focused on you.

zhongli grins down at your childishly excited face, pausing for a hesitant minute before he carefully places his hands on top of your shoulders. you look up at him in confusion and is about to question him, but any sound that comes out is cut off by his lips ensnaring yours in a kiss. you’re astounded by his intimate move, but you revel in his touch in a matter of seconds. 

he hopes, as he tightens his hold, that you’ll stay with him always, till your last breath. 

tagging. @scarymoosh

[shingia]

Could I request Kuroo, Bokuto, Tsukishima, Sakusa, Miya twins, and Tendou with a reader who used to self harm but was sober for a while, only to relapse after they left bc of a huge argument then please and thanks? Sorry if that’s really intense tho. And thank u for being so nice🙂💞

[𝐓𝐖] 𝐒/𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌

ok i reaaally hope this is what you expected. i didn’t know what kind of ending you wanted but i decided that you, my friend, needed comfort, so i gave you comfort because you deserve it ❤️️

i hope reading this will make you feel better! kisses on your nose ❤️️

type : (strong) angst | word count : 4.4K

warnings : mentions of self-harm, depiction of depressive behavior (plz do not read if any of these might trigger something, i want you all to be safe <3)

⇀ 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨

« fuck you, kuroo. fuck. you. ». those were the last words you had told him. they had hurt, but they were nothing compared to the last words he had told you, the words that kept playing over and over in your head as you slowly felt yourself drift to your old habits again : « i’m done with you ».

was it your fault ? did you push him over the edge ? you had many questions to ask kuroo, but he wasn’t there to answer anymore. so these thoughts were left spiraling in your head as you started to lose balance between love and pain. because his love used to be the cure to your pain. so now what ? what were you supposed to do other than going back to your old habits ? you couldn’t think of any answer.

on monday morning, you woke up thirty minutes earlier because, first of all, you needed some time for the swelling of your eyes to go down, and second of all, you needed to mentally prepare yourself to see kuroo again. it had been two days since your fight, and he had not manifested himself once. it seemed to be well and truly over ; and that thought had been the main cause of the collapsing of your mental strength over the last two days.

during your first period, although you were avoiding his gaze, kuroo couldn’t help but cast glances in your direction. because he knew you better than anyone, and he could only imagine how hurt you were.

but he really started to get suspicious when he noticed you were not raising your hand to correct today’s homework. he had helped you with that last week, and you had told him that you felt confident enough to propose your correction to the class ; which rarely happened. so why weren’t you raising your hand ?

he had a bad feeling about the answer… he didn’t care about giving you quick glances anymore, he just stared at your arms until one of your movements would make your sleeve reveal just a few inches of your skin.

and he was horrified to have his fears confirmed. the cuts that he had so often kissed while holding you in his arms were back. and he knew it was all because of him. and although his first thought was that it was not his job to heal them anymore, he couldn’t bring himself to act unbothered.

he had loved you for long enough to know that you needed him right now. or maybe he still loved you ? it was not clear, but it didn’t matter right now. what mattered was that he needed you to listen to what he wanted to say, even if that was the last thing you accepted to hear from him.

« y/n, we need to talk » he told you once you got out of the classroom. you looked up at him ; his face was unusually austere. he carefully grabbed your shoulder and took you away from everyone else. 

« i can’t… i couldn’t walk out of there pretending like i didn’t see what your arms looked like » he started. « now listen, i know i fucked up, but i still care. and you still matter. whatever our relationship is doesn’t define you and most importantly, these don’t define you » he pointed at your wrists, his brows furrowed with concern. « so please, i’m begging you, keep in mind that i’m always here if you need to talk. always. and if you don’t want to talk to me that’s fine, but in that case, please find someone else. for the sake of everything we've been through together, don't let everything you’ve accomplished go to waste » and he wrapped his arms around you in the strongest hug he had ever given.

⇀ 𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨

it had already been a week. and bokuto had absolutely no idea what to do. call you ? text you ? probably not. what would he even say ? « hi, sorry for slamming the door in your face after screaming at you for fifteen minutes. am i still your boyfriend ? » awful idea.

and while bokuto was pondering every option he had left to get in touch with you, you were left in the darkest place of your mind. and you hadn’t felt like that in a few months. because bokuto used to always be there, his number on speed dial whenever you feared you would relapse. and thanks to his unwavering support, you hadn’t. but was there anything in this world that was truly unwavering ? you really started to doubt it. and now that bokuto had left you, what could carry the pain away ? whatever the answer was, you were in no condition to think rationally about it.

you remembered how he used to celebrate every improvement in your mental health, how strong of a cornerstone he had been for you. and just the fact of not knowing where you guys were at after your fight was enough to make you feel like you were drowning again.

you were overflowing with emotions that you thought you couldn’t control, and apart from holding on tight to bokuto’s chest, you only knew one way to feel better.

you loved him, you really did. but after a week without hearing from him, you started to think that maybe his feelings were not as real as he pretended they were. and how could you not blame him for that ? for letting you down so fast ?

curled up in your bed, tears were streaming down your face ; because you felt weaker than you had promised yourself to be. you were exhausted, in every sense of the word, yet there was still a tiny bit of strength left in your body that made you grab your phone and open your conversation with bokuto. the last message was a bitter pill to swallow : « no problem babe, i’m always here for you ». it was just a week ago but it felt like an eternity had passed. your fingers started slowly typing on the screen and immediately hit sent, knowing that you would second guess your message if you re-read it. « can we talk? », just three words, it was the maximum you could get off of your chest right now.

but bokuto did not answer. for the simple reason that he was too busy catching his breath in front of your door. he frantically knocked, not stopping until you opened it.

« oh my god, are you okay ?! » he exclaimed, patting your entire body like he wanted to make sure you were well and truly there. and once he had made sure of that, he pulled you against his chest like he wasn’t planning on letting you go ever again. « did- did you… » he ventured to ask, not wanting to finish his sentence precisely because he was afraid of your answer. but when he heard you let out a muffled sob against his chest, his fears instantly got replaced by guilt. more than he had ever felt. « you’re alright, i got you. i got you now… » he murmured, his hands stroking your back tenderly. « we’ll get through this together, ok ? we’ll show the world how strong you are. because i know you are. »

⇀ 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚

yes, sakusa had run away. and he was glad he had. because he knew how hurtful he could be with his words, and he had enough respect not to inflict that to you. but as he made his way back home, doubt started installing in his head. what if he shouldn’t have left you after your fight ? he immediately shook the thought away. no, you were good now. you were better. nothing like who you were when he met you.

and sakusa could be very convincing when he needed to, including with himself. that’s why he didn’t get in touch with you for the next three days, because he thought you just needed some time for yourself.

but when he received a worried text from komori when he got out of the gym after practice, he changed his mind within seconds. « i just saw y/n, something felt off. maybe you should check on them ? ».

sakusa felt a wave of guilt descend upon of him. of course he should. it was his fucking job to offer you his help, even when he thought you didn’t need it. and especially when he knew what you had already been through. he cursed himself all the way to your house, where he could only imagine how lonely you felt. not wanting to waste any more time, he pulled out his phone to call you. and heaved a relieved sigh at the sound of your voice : « hey, are you ok ? like, right now are you doing ok ? » he asked hastily. 

you sat on your bed and rubbed your strained eyes, fiddling with the cloth of your t-shirt. « i- yeah, i’m good… » you lied. « i’m at your door, open up please, i gotta see you » he said before hanging up.

you knew sakusa was not going to take no for an answer. so, after wiping your tears and putting on a long-sleeved hoodie and sweatpants, you went to open the door. 

« hi… » you uttered quietly. sakusa didn’t dare to move. he had been so determined to get to your house, but now that you were standing in front of him, he wasn’t so sure of what he was supposed to do.

you decided to be the first to break the silence,  « i’m okay. and i’m sorr… » « sorry. about everything. » he pre-empted you. seeing you like this made him fear the worst. so he gently grabbed your wrists like he wanted to hold your hands, when in reality he just wanted to confirm his thoughts. and when he saw you stiffen at his touch, he knew he had guessed right. « come here » he whispered before going in for a hug. but you pulled away at the last second. « can we… go to my room ? i- i feel better there » you asked timidly.

he didn’t even answer and simply wrapped his arm around your shoulder before taking you to your bedroom where you immediately curled up on your bed. you didn’t want sakusa to see you like this, but you were in no position to fight back anymore. quietly, he laid beside you and pulled you in a warm embrace, just tight enough to let you know that he got you now. 

when he noticed you were trying to find something to say, to explain yourself, he shushed you with a kiss on your shoulder. « you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. but i want you to listen to me very carefully : don’t ever think that you’re back to square one now. you’ve dealt with this before, you’ve grown and you can do it again as long as you promise yourself to get back up. and i won’t leave your side. you deserve so much more than what you give yourself, and i’m here to remind you »

⇀ 𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

tsukishima’s pride was important to him, everyone knew it. the only thing he valued as much as his pride was probably you. but during your arguments, the scale always tipped in his pride’s favor, you simply could not compete.

but surprisingly enough, it was you who had told him to go away after getting in the most heated argument you had ever had. and he didn’t have to be told twice : you had shattered his beloved pride, and he was not going to stay here begging for your mercy.

he still loved you, but he also had no problem ignoring you at school. yet for some reason, this argument didn’t sit well with him. well, no arguments ever sat well with him, but today felt different. 

ignoring you was one of the most hurtful things tsukishima could ever do to you. he had helped you through so much, and suddenly becoming a stranger to him was slowly bringing you back down.

« it’s just one time, i won’t relapse » you thought the first time you tried to cope with the pain the way you used to. but you feared it wouldn’t be just one time. you were diving into what you had said goodbye to ; but now that tsukishima was ignoring you, there was no one to stop you from falling, right ? 

well, that would have been true if he hadn’t kept a discreet but attentive eye on you. which is why he knew very well that you had gone back to your old habits. and he needed to do something about it.

but he wasn’t good with words, and he feared that actions would not be enough this time. he needed something more permanent, something that you could keep with you all the time. so he decided to do something he had never done before, and gave it to you as soon as it was done…

receiving a letter from tsukishima was definitely not something you expected. but what was written in it was even less expected.

« i’m not the best at this kind of stuff, but… i really need you to stop being so hard on yourself. i know it’s not something i usually say, but i fell in love with you because i learned to love your imperfections. and you have to start doing the same about yourself. please. and if you need to be held, to be listened to, i’ll be there. but i wanted to write something because i want you to be able to read this as much as you need, as much as you want. i want you to get better, but even more than that, i want you to want to get better. you can do it, i believe in you more than you can think. please come to me if you need it. i love you ».

the tears that streamed down your face had a salty taste, but for the first time in a long time, they tasted like hope as well. and the next time you came face to face with yourself and your thoughts, your eyes found find their way back to the letter, and you knew that there were people that still believed in you, counted on you, loved you. tsukki was just the first one of a long list. (<3)

⇀ 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

he had been there through everything. more than you would have imagined. which is probably why you felt desperately empty ever since he got so angry at you that he left without looking back. but at the time, it simply had not crossed his mind that you would suffer so deeply from his words.

but you did. a lot. and that was the reason you found yourself crying on your bedroom floor, not even able to be mad at anyone but yourself.

still oblivious to the true damage, atsumu thought he could get back to you by pretending like nothing had happened. he often did that because, to him, what was in the past belonged in the past. except that today, and in your situation, it could not work.

« wanna grab something to eat ? » was the first text he sent you. and you didn’t feel like answering, so you didn’t. « are you still mad ? i’m not <3 » was the second one. but you still didn’t feel like answering. maybe it was your fault ? maybe you were overreacting while you were just supposed to play it cool like he did ? but you would have played it cool if you knew how to.

when atsumu decided to go to your house, it was initially to apologize in person. he had not planned on seeing you looking the way you did, which was a heart-wrenching reminder of the dark period of time you had gotten through together. but here he was, standing in front of you, feeling more helpless than ever. he knew too well the look into your eyes, one that he hadn’t seen in a long time. 

he dropped the pack of snacks he was holding in his hands before cupping your cheeks. « oh no, no, no. i fucked up, didn’t i ? i am… so so so sorry. c-can you forgive me ? » he stammered, absolute panic in his eyes as he took you in his arms. why would i have to forgive you ? you thought. i’m the only one to blame. 

but atsumu seemed to also hear the things you didn’t say, and he refused to let you feel guilty for anything. ever so gently, he took your hands in his before placing the softest kisses on your wrists that were still covered by the sleeves of your hoodie. « i probably won’t ever forgive myself for leaving you alone. but promise me you’ll always come to me if you need help, or any kind of support, hugs, kisses… you name it. i’ll be your coping mechanism, and i’ll be the best you’ve ever had »

and he kept holding you for a long time, at least until he felt your breath become steady again. and if you thought atsumu was doting before, prepare yourself to be even more amazed now.

⇀ 𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮

fighting with osamu was not frequent, fortunately. but when fights occured, it was bad. really bad. he tended to think that you could endure as much as atsumu when it came to harsh words ; but you couldn’t.

kind of like his brother, samu had a tendency to leave the past behind and pretend like nothing happened when he got in touch with you after a fight. and that’s what he did a week ago, after one of the biggest arguments that you had ever had.

too happy that he seemed to still want to be your boyfriend, you didn’t have the courage to tell him how you had gone back to your old habits during the time you were on bad terms. but as they said, old habits died hard, and your destructive thoughts were still very present even when things seemed to have gotten back to normal.

yet samu was not blind, and he noticed that you were acting a bit more distant since last week, since your fight. but he still thought that your problems could be solved by just keeping on pretending like everything was ok. and eventually, things would turn out ok by themselves, right ?

you were laying on his bed, turned on your side as you scrolled on your phone. usually you would have had an arm swung around him, but you didn’t want to take any risk, so you kept your distances. 

« hey, come closer baby. we’ve barely cuddled today » he told you before lazily wrapping his arm around your waist.

feeling nervous, you swallowed the lump in your throat before putting your phone on the nightstand. « i’m going to sleep, samu », you said, stretching your arm to turn off the light.

but he was quicker than you and gently grabbed your arm, careful not to apply any pressure on it. his eyes widened, he had barely seen your wrist but it had been enough to notice that the scars were recent. he put two and two together and looked at you dead in the eyes ; you looked ashamed, and it broke his heart. « when did y- was it because of me ? » he asked, his voice faintly shaking. you pulled away from his hand and held your arm against you, sinking in the pillow. « no, of course not. it’s nothing » you breathed out, looking away to avoid his gaze. but he was quick to make you face him again, with a slight pressure of his fingertips on your red cheeks. « there’s only one thing that i hate more than seeing you in pain. it’s knowing that i caused this pain. let me help you, y/n. please. you deserve to feel better. i’m sorry i didn’t give you as much love as you gave me. and i’m sorry for behaving like an asshole when you needed me. just… fuck, i just love you ».

tears started prickling the corner of your eyes, but he saw you trying to hold them back. with the most gentle look in his eyes, he proposed to turn off the light if it made you feel better. and you nodded ; you knew that you’d eventually had to have a face-to-face conversation with him. it was the only way to get better. but right now you just wanted to be held without thinking about what he’d see. or wouldn’t see.

so he turned off the light and let yourself get comfortable in bed before wrapping you in his embrace once again. his soft breath against your neck was obviously not enough to make all your pain magically go away, but it let you know that he had your back. and it was all that mattered.

⇀ 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮

« i don’t want to do this anymore, y/n ! » tendou had yelled, making this sentence the peak of your argument. six words, and they were on replay in your minds since four days. you couldn’t believe that almost two years of relationship had ended so abruptly. but you had to face the truth : tendou had enough of you. and obviously you linked that to the turbulent start of your relationship. you knew it hadn’t been easy for him to deal with your self harm when you had just started dating. yet he had managed to make you feel so much better that you had been sober for about a year, all thanks to him. but maybe you hadn’t been grateful enough ? maybe that was why he had decided to end things now ?

the only thing you knew for sure was that he was gone, and you felt like you had lost your anchor.

you had spent the weekend in your dorm, and it had been a painful weekend. so painful that you did not get out of bed on monday morning ; it was just too much to handle. deep down you knew that you were not handling your problems the right way… and escaping reality was not viable.

but little did you know that tendou wanted nothing more than to see you again in the hallways and finally have a heart-to-heart conversation with you. and when he didn’t see you in class, he started to freak out. he knew how it was to feel alone and rejected ; and he started to fear that he had caused you to feel exactly that. so he did not follow his friends to the cafeteria at lunch and headed to your dorm instead, hoping that you’d open the door.

and you did. thank god you did. but panic started bubbling in his chest when his eyes laid on your face.

« alright, come here » he told you with a forced smile before pulling you in his embrace. truthfully, he didn’t feel like smiling, but he knew that the last thing you needed was to think you made him feel bad. when he was with you, his main goal was to cheer you up, he’d deal with himself later. « angel… did you do it again ? » he asked, his tone being the furthest thing from judgmental. you muttered a quiet apology, your face buried in his white uniform jacket. but something lingered on your mind. angel ? it sounded right, but you knew it wasn’t. not anymore. « don’t apologize ! the only person you owe an apology to is yourself » he whispered against your ear. slowly, he put his hands on your waist before bringing you to your bed where he sat right next to you, still refusing to take his hands off of your body.

 « tendou, you don’t have to do this… » you muttered, knowing that you weren’t supposed to be this close anymore. « i’m your ex, you don’t owe me anything ».

he immediately looked down to meet your eyes, an eyebrow raised in confusion. « your ex ? wh- you think i broke up with you ? y/n, when i said that i didn’t want to do this anymore, i was talking about fighting with you ! i’m sorry, i should have texted you these last few days, but i thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me »

a tear rolled down your cheek. tendou’s words sounded like heaven right now. maybe you weren’t alone after all ?

« now, do you need me to get you something ? band-aids ? anything ? » he asked, caressing your hair with his right hand. you nodded your head no and kept your head buried in his neck, like you were waiting for his scent to go to your head. « i know you’ve been through a lot, and i’m proud of you no matter what. but, you know… even though i have enough love for the both of us, i’d really want you to have enough love for yourself » he said and placed a kiss on top of your head, waiting for you to say something. but he sensed that you were not ready yet. and he was ok with that, the last thing he wanted to do was to pressure you. it was going to be a long path, but you had already done it, and you were going to do it again. and he’d be there the whole time.

ok so if you’ve read until there it probably means that you needed comfort (i hope i have given you enough) : so if you are in this situation yourself, PLEASE don’t be afraid to ask for help, you can and you will get better. i’m rooting for you like saeko roots for karasuno ❤️️

@toworuu (didn’t forget about you ^^)

[xxxrubytuesdayxxx]

“What are you doing in my bed?”

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Fluffy angst and a bit of smut towards the end

Word Count: 7,294

Concept: Kim Hongjoong doesn’t want to be a virgin anymore and he’s determined to get his way, even if it involves sneaking into your bedroom between tasks. 

Credits to a few prompt-lists I found trawling the internet, but I lost the links, I’m sorry :( If you recognise any, please let me know and I will do proper credits x

Masterlist

“This was a terrible, terrible idea,” you think to yourself, as you survey the ‘damage’ in the dorm. Oh there’s nothing wrong with the state of the rooms - it’s the state of the boys themselves. Because of course what the company set up as a cooking and eating game for a V Live descended into a drinking game the minute the main staff left. Yet it’s actually surprisingly easy to chase the younger ones off to bed. Which just leaves the eldest two: long-legged, sweet but slightly tipsy Seonghwa and their petite, treacherously-pretty but definitely-plastered leader Hong-Joong. Sizing up the levels of intoxication and seniority, You decide to tackle the slightly younger leader first. 

“Bed, Hong-Joong!” you attempt, mustering up what you hope is a convincing ‘eomma’ vibe. Apparently you’re not very convincing though because he just squeals and bats you away.

“Ani! I’m leader! No bed!” he objects. “Anyway, I’m want to annoy Seonghwa first,” he announces, in endearingly grammatically-incorrect English, complete with a mischievous smile, before darting out of your reach and perching himself on the arm of the couch to watch his hyung record a ‘cute’ wake-up message for ATINY.

“I will show you the cute version,” Seonghwa tells his leader dutifully, cue card in hand, before turning towards the one waiting camera.

“Ani, I don’t want to see!!” wails Hong-Joong dramatically, collapsing off the arm of the couch onto the seat itself in apparent agony, with his eyes squeezed shut. “Argh! Jebal!” he yells, clearly determined to be a massive brat about poor Seonghwa’s task. He then proceeds to make ridiculous high-pitched noises while Seonghwa reads his message out, until Seonghwa cuts him off with a soft reprimand, knowing only he can use banmal with his leader: “Ah, keep quiet.” Hong-Joong obediently stops making noises, but then smirks unrepentantly when the older boy laughs at himself and stops the reading before screaming in frustration, himself, at the difficulty of his recording, making the now-quiet Hong-Joong snicker. 

“Argh! I can’t do this!” Seonghwa laments. Noting that Hong-Joong has calmed down, he decides to ask him for some feedback on the instructions:

“What’s the difference between sexy and sensuous?” This gets Hong-Joong’s attention. 

“Sexy? Ah, you don’t know?” he replies, springing up off the couch with drunken bravado, ready to show his hyung how it’s done. He staggers over to a very confused Seonghwa, who looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or worry.

“Sexy is...just...you see it…” he babbles meaninglessly. “This is sexy, this is sexy. If it’s sensuous...when you see it…” then gives him a somewhat-mystifying rendition of ‘sexy’ and mumbles "that's what I mean" before drifting out of the room and towards the stairs to their bedrooms, singing to himself. Seonghwa just stares after him, at a loss, then returns to his recording in peace. You give the older boy an encouraging smile, figuring he’s probably still sober enough to get himself up to bed, and then venture up to check on Hong-Joong. Only he’s not in his bedroom. 

Sighing to yourself, you check the other boys’ rooms but then have to conclude that he’s in the bathroom, and there’s not much you can do there, except knock and call out to him if he’s still not out in ten minutes. So you head to your room, intending to get changed and prepare for bed. Only when you swing the door open, Hong-Joong is sprawled on his back, still fully dressed, in your bed - under the covers. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Excuse me, Hong-Joong? What are you doing in my bed?” you ask him, exasperatedly.

“I will try to seduce you, noona,” he tells you, in his adorably-accented, slightly off-kilter English, lovely long eyelashes fluttering coyly, as he sits up.

“Wha-I mean what…?” you stammer, assuming he’s just got his words tangled again. “Seduce?” You’re desperately trying to think of a plausible alternative, but your mind is drawing a blank from panic. Admittedly nothing innocent fits this scenario.

“Eung - yuhokhaeyo,” he affirms, nodding cutely. 

“Um...you’re drunk, sweetheart,” you tell him, sitting tentatively by his side and patting his shoulder soothingly. You want to have misinterpreted him nearly as much as you want to take him up on his offer, but, despite his avowed attempt to ‘tempt’ you, in Korean parlance, you resist. He pouts a little and flings himself back onto his back, eyes fluttering shut again.

“Chwihaji anassoyo~~” [I’m not drunk] he whines, before switching back to English, frustrated at being misunderstood, as he sees it. “I just want...have sex with someone," he tries. 

“Probably not the best time to have sex, really,” you point out, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing, as you don’t want to embarrass him or indeed give yourself away. He sits up suddenly, opens his eyes and fixes you with an intense stare. You falter, blush and lower your own eyes, but he puts a finger under your chin and gently lifts your face to look in your eyes.

“Will you...reconsider...if I am...sober?” he asks you, carefully, still in English.

“I don’t...I mean it’s probably not a great idea, tiger,” you caution him. “Wait though...are you...what are you saying...exactly?” you correct yourself, suddenly noticing that his cheeks are flushed almost the same shade as his strawberry-bangs and his eyes are avidly studying your duvet. He hums nervously, smoothing the duvet with his hand, but doesn’t answer or even look up at you. The realization hits you as all the pieces come together. “Chyeonyo-ye-yo?” [Are you a virgin?] you ask him softly, not wanting to embarrass him either way. He nods shyly, keeping his head and eyes down and pulling at a loose thread on the duvet as his cheeks flush even hotter.

“Wow...I mean...wow,” you falter. “I’m sorry honey, I really didn’t know,” you reassure him, slipping your hand under his, on the cover, with your palm facing up. After a moment, his fingers curl tentatively around your hand and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. “Well...um...maybe we can wait until you’ve sobered up and then we can try and find you...I mean find a way to help you get...um...erm...laid,” you finish awkwardly, feeling like his innocence is being violated by the very thought of it. But then you remember he was the one who asked, so perhaps he’s not that innocent - at least of lustful thoughts.

“Laid?” he asks you now, reigniting your reluctance to contact one of the professionals the company usually engages for this kind of service.

“Er...laid is a slang term for...for um…” you stall.

“Sex?” Hong-Joong chirps brightly, looking pleased with himself and finally catching your eye, now that he feels he has something to be pleased with himself about - his English ability.

“Yeah, sex,” you admit reluctantly. “Look, Joong, are you sure about this?” you ask him.

“Ne,” he whispers, leaning towards you expectantly and closing his eyes again.

“Wow! No, no, no!” you deter him, hurriedly, gently moving him back against the headboard of your bed. “No, I meant are you sure you want me to find someone to have sex with you?” He pouts and opens his eyes - this time holding your gaze.

“I want,” he hesitates, checking your eyes, “to...to?” You nod, assuming he’s just checking his grammar. “I want to have sex with you, noona. Right now,” he tells you firmly, nodding for emphasis. You’re already shaking your head, but you stand up and pull him up with you to add some weight to your refusal of this proposal.

“No. You’re not losing your virginity when you’ve been drinking and might regret it tomorrow - or possibly not even remember it, from the looks of you,” you tease him gently. “C’mon - come back to your room and get some sleep.” He shakes his head vehemently, tossing his hair petulantly and stamps his foot.

“Kiseu-haejwo~~” [Kiss me] he whines, stubbornly refusing to move when you tug at his arm.

“It’s not happening, honey,” you sigh.

“But you call me honey,” he persists, tossing his hair away from his eyes to wink at you provocatively, and sticking his tongue out for good measure.

“Yeah. I did,” you admit, sighing again at his persistence. “But it’s just a general term of endearment, like...sweetheart.”

“Call me jagiya,” he flirts, deliberately fluttering his amazing eyelashes at you.

“Kim Hong-Joong!” you warn him in a furious whisper. He ignores you, quickly grabs your chin in both of his hands and presses his lips to yours before you can stop him. Startled, you just let him kiss you, until he teases your lips open and slips his tongue into your mouth.

“No-no-no-no-no! Bad, bad, boy!” you tell him firmly, pushing him away with both hands. He just giggles and tries again, but this time you’re ready for him and put your hand against his chest to keep him back. “Right. Bed! Right now...go!” you stammer, fumbling your words as you try to stop yourself from shaking...or wanting to feel his lips on yours again. He smirks, grabs you around the waist this time and slams you up against the wall to kiss you again. This time with no prelude, just straight up making out. You hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then push him away again.

He stops but only to lick his own lip experimentally. “Mm...you taste like fucking candy,” he teases you, with another wink, moving back in for the kill.

“What are you doing?!” you demand, stopping him again. “Behave! You’ll get me fired!”

“I won’t!” he pouts.

“You most certainly will,” you correct him. “If there was a camera in my room, I’d be packing my bags already.”

“Really?” he asks, looking genuinely worried this time. You nod fervently. “Staff have to sign contracts as well, you know,” you explain. “I’m sorry, honey. Look, let’s get you back to your room before the others start looking for you to finish that mission, okay?  He gives you a resentful, sulky look, but obediently exits your room, where you hear his dainty footsteps padding across to his bedroom and his door open and close, just before Seonghwa comes up the stairs looking for him. Trying not to panic at how close that was, you peel your clothes off and start to prepare for bed. 

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

So you really shouldn’t be surprised when he endeavours to make your job incredibly difficult the next day. Seems, contrary to the saying, hell hath no fury like a kpop idol scorned. Worse, you already have to explain the day’s schedule to eight boys in various stages of hangover hell. Fortunately, in most cases it’s more a matter of keeping them awake and attentive, but Hong-Joong’s idea of revenge is yelling things and making distracting noises throughout the entire meeting. By the time you’re on the last round of explanations and he starts to object, you throw caution to the wind and slap your hand straight over his pretty mouth.

“If you interrupt me one more time, Hong-Joong, so help me God...” you warn him, through clenched teeth. He watches you fake-innocently over your hand, while the others come around long enough to snicker conspiratorially at the sight of their leader being chastised. You remove your hand, but continue giving him a warning look, then finish explaining the schedule and shoo them all into hair and makeup, overriding their pleading cries of ‘feeling sick’ and ‘wanting to go back to bed’ with the reminder that they got themselves into this mess, and that tomorrow is a free day, so they only need to keep it together for the rest of today before they’ll win a break. 

They’re filing dutifully out of the cars, having had the luxury of a camera-less ride to the studio, Hong-Joong looking very pleased with his freshly-dyed bright blue bangs, when San and Wooyoung decide to accost you.

“What is it, Wooyoung?” you ask, eyeing a grinning San off suspiciously.

“Hong-Joong-hyung is want to have sex with you, noona” the younger boy informs you smugly, in halting English. San nods sagely, confirming this apparently hot tip. You close your eyes and sigh exasperatedly, trying not to show them that either a) you know this or b) you’re equally problematically attracted to their leader.

“Okay even if he did...which I doubt,” you begin, keeping your voice calm with difficulty. “Why on earth would he tell you two that?” you ask.

“He tell all members,” San updates you gleefully, before reverting to Korean to elaborate: “We were sharing TMI facts for games.”

“Great. That’s great,” you tell them sarcastically. “And on what planet does he think that information would be an appropriate TMI to share?”

“Oh he doesn’t...he was just really intoxicated by then,” Wooyoung giggles.

“This just gets better and better,” you marvel.

“Are you going to yell at him again, noona?” Wooyoung asks you, trying to contain his obvious glee. San watches seemingly impassively, but you can see the anticipation in his eyes. You narrow your own.

“So how do I know you two aren’t just making this up for a prank? Or to get your leader in more trouble?” you ask, pretending to be suspicious.

“Ask the others,” San shrugs. “Or ask him.” This throws you and they can sense it, which understandably deepens their curiosity and makes you panic.

"Fine. Tell him to come see me once you're done with the radio slot," you tell them, attempting to call their bluff. 

It doesn't quite go according to plan though. You’re just thinking you've maybe impressed the gravity of the situation on Ateez's leader when he interrupts you with characteristic sass, but careful to stick to jondaemal: “Noona, jebal geuman malhago kiseuhae julraeyo?” [Noona, would you please stop talking and kiss me?]. Thank God you were prescient enough to talk to him alone. You stare at him open-mouthed.

“You...what...did you hear anything I just said!?” you demand. He nods, cutely, swinging his shoulders with his hands clasped together in front of him to complete the innocent look, and shoots you a come-hither look, through his eyelashes.

“So um...if you heard me, did you understand me?” you check, wishing your Korean was more fluent for situations like this.

“Yes, I understand,” he murmurs in English, his voice husky. 

“So why…” you try, with another sigh. “Why did you still ask for a kiss?” He shrugs, pouts, pushes the toe of his boot into the leg of the couch he’s standing beside then flops heavily into it with a deeply wounded sigh. You follow suit, seating yourself on the other couch. Hong-Joong keeps his head lowered and stays silent, occasionally adjusting his eyelashes with his pointer finger until you have to ask, against your better judgment, but you feel bad for rejecting him:

“Gwaenchanaeyo, Joong?” 

He sniffs disconsolately, plays with his eyelashes again, and shakes his head with a little hiccoughing sob. Well now you feel really bad, but this is a no-win situation.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, sweetheart,” you try, softening your voice. He nods, quickly, acknowledging your words, but swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. You hold back a sigh of exasperation, and move to sit by him on his couch, tentatively placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Joong - don’t be like that,” you plead. “These aren’t my rules. But even if there weren’t rules...you’re so young. Don’t you want your first time to be with someone else your age. Who maybe can share the...the experience with you?” You try not to picture how it will more likely go if you arrange something for him, but push the thought away, pretending to yourself that the company can somehow make it romantic for him.

“Ani,” he sulks, head still lowered and blueberry bubblegum bangs spilling over his face. “I want you to kiss me.” He finally lifts his head and fixes you with his big, dark eyes. “Jebal,” he begs, voice breaking a little. “Only once, then I stop asking,” he bargains, in English, picking up on the subtle change in your expression. You sigh, close your eyes, and put your head in your hands, steeling yourself. You can feel Hong-Joong’s eyes on you. You can almost feel his heart thumping in his chest as he waits nervously for an answer.

“Okay,” you agree reluctantly, knowing in your heart of hearts that, despite his words, it won’t stop here. “On one condition. You are not to tell anybody ever.” He nods obediently, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Okay then...Where am I kissing you?” 

He is already facing you in anticipation, his hands neatly on his thighs and his eyes shut so you can see those glorious eyelashes resting on his cheeks. The tiniest tracks of his tears stain his pretty face, and his lips are parted, ready for his requested kiss. But he opens his eyes at the question, confused.

“Right here,” he tells you, cocking his head to the side. You laugh softly.

“No. Where on yourself do you want to be kissed?” you amend.

“Oh…” he is a little flustered by the question. “On…” he touches his lips. “On my mouth,” he requests. You smile at his innocence. 

“Okay. Close your eyes again,” you tell him. He does so obediently and you lean across to kiss him softly, but sensuously, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, and tangle it with yours. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you twine yours around his neck, turning your head on the side to allow him to sate his appetite on you. You only stop him, gently, when his hands sneak around towards your chest.

“There you go,” you murmur, extricating yourself reluctantly from his embrace. “Happy?” 

“Yes,” he breathes, but he looks distinctly the opposite. “Noona? I...I have to go,” he tells you. You’re a bit taken aback, but you nod to him and let him up and he darts out of the room without a backwards glance. ‘Oh boy - this is gonna be fun’ you think to yourself, before leaving the little studio lounge to go round the other boys up.

You leave Hong-Joong until last, to give him some privacy to sort out his presumably mixed emotions, but it gets to the point that you really need them all in the cars, so you have to resort to checking the private recording booths, though you can’t imagine why he would be in one of them without booking it, and of course the bathrooms - which you plan to leave until absolute last. You ask the others if they’ve seen him, but they all shrug at you innocently. Finally Yeosang remembers that he saw their leader go upstairs to the sleeping pods. Thanking him exasperatedly, you jog up the stairs and then enter the space quietly, knowing that idols use it to recuperate between scheduled events. Most of the pods seem to be empty though, and it’s only when your ears adjust that you hear Hong-Joong’s voice and feel your cheeks flush. 

At least he’s not sleeping, you reason, so you won’t have to wake him, but the sharp little intakes of breath and the quiet moans you hear make you think waking him would be infinitely less trouble. Still...if he’s with someone, at least now you won’t have to find him a date. You slide the door across, preparing yourself to chastise him at least a little, for form’s sake, but he’s alone. And boy, does he look guilty when he catches your eye. After a brief deer-caught-in-headlights moment, he freaks out completely, squeals loudly and throws himself commando-style off the further side of the little camp-bed, re-emerging adorably with the top of his face peeping over the mattress at you. 

“Hong-Joong?! Are you alright?" you laugh.  He nods and gives you cute v-fingers over his eyes and a mischievous smile. "Erm, good...what were you...wait were you just getting yourself off?” you ask him, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop yourself and wishing he didn’t look quite so delectable - kneeling up on his shins, chest heaving, with his hair dishevelled, lips just parted and eyes at half-mast and his arms awkwardly crossed across his crotch.

“U-uh...no...I was just…” he stammers, deeply unconvincingly, despite the tinkling sound of the buckle of his jeans belt dangling against the side of his leg.

“Okay, so the second car is leaving and you need to get yourself down there quick smart before it leaves without you,” you tell him, choosing to leave the subject.

“Or…?” he asks you, a little panicked. You hesitate, not wanting to give him any ideas. But it’s going to be just as awkward if you make him come downstairs with you right now. 

"Or we'll have to arrange another way to get you home," you concede. "Look, just...fix yourself up. I'll work something out and come back for you. "

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

So this is the series of racy events that leads to you finding yourself in the back of a taxicab on the way back to the dorm from Hongdae, slightly the worse for the soju, with an endearingly tipsy Hong-Joong’s pretty head in your lap, using all your self-control to ignore the tantalizing effect of the incredibly illicit kisses that he is bestowing on your stockinged thighs whilst he’s meant to be ‘resting’.

“Joong, stop it! I’m warning you,” you chastise him for probably the twelfth time since you’ve clambered into this cab together. “I cannot believe you talked the staff into having me chaperone you for a night out on the town.” You don’t add that neither you nor they would have gone along with this if they’d had any idea whatsoever of his intentions. But lucky for him, you obviously weren’t going to tell on him and you gather the other boys had his back as well. Now however, you’re not entirely sure the scope for gossip won’t kill them.

Thank God, the taxi makes it back to the dorm before he can test you any further, and you jump out of the backseat to pay the driver, before helping Hong-Joong out and guiding him inside and up to his bedroom, where he spins around in a sort of pirouette before flinging himself onto his bed with a cute giggle.

“I look pretty today, don’t I, noona?” he checks with you, preening a little. 

“Very pretty,” you assure him, careful to keep the tone of your voice neutral. 

“No, you’re teasing me, noona~~” he whines. “Say it properly that I look pretty.” He shakes his head, making his long, silver earrings dance and jump.

“You look pretty, Hong-Joong-oppa~,” you tell him, with an aegyo flourish, before rolling your eyes teasingly at him and he laughs, loudly, with his hand in front of his mouth, then hits you playfully, in that adorable fashion he has. You give up on any pretence that he’s not dangerously close to getting his way, what with your guard being down and the soju still buzzing through you.

“Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?” you ask him, wryly. His eyes go wide, unsure if he’s just understood you correctly.

“Mwo?” he chirrups.

“You heard me,” you purr, leaning forward to kiss him lingeringly. He responds immediately, arms coming around you to pull you against him and lips moving against yours eagerly, before you feel his tongue searching for yours. You kiss for a while, but when he lays down and pulls you over on top of him, you stop him.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh. “I think we need to stop now, before someone gets hurt.” You stand up reluctantly, and give him what you plan to be one last kiss, tugging at his bottom lip gently with your teeth, before you pull away. He clings to you, kissing your jawline and then your neck, but you extricate yourself and stand up, making his face fall and his pretty smile merge into a pout.

“Wae, noona~?” he sulks, cute.

“Did you honestly think your devious little plot would work?” you tease him. “Whatever happened to ‘I won’t ask anymore once I get one kiss,’ hmm? You’ve had way more than one kiss, Joong...it’s time to move on back to reality now,” you tell him, sadly, turning to go. He sighs his defeat, letting his shoulders sink and making you wish fervently that you could just hold him and make him feel all better. You honestly can’t think of a reason that one of the professionals the company can hire for him will make him feel any more of a man than you could right now. And just as you’re mulling it over, reluctant to take your final leave, he lets his gaze rake you from head to foot, winks provocatively, and then bites his lip with a little ‘c'mere’ tilt of his chin.

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip?” you ask him, rhetorically.  “‘Cause, you know what? If you did, then, fuck the rules. We’re having sex. Right now.” This time he manages not to give himself away completely, but his eyebrows go up and he swallows hard. He rearranges himself nervously on the bed as you check his door, making sure it’s locked. When you turn your attention back to Hong-Joong, you almost have second thoughts. He has arranged himself carefully, so that his shirt is open half-way to his waist, exposing most of his chest but artfully concealing his nipples, and he's leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him to give you the best possible view. His head is tilted, eyes lowered, and his slender neck looks impossibly delicate, wrapped in a black silk choker. He smiles bewitchingly and dares a look up through his lashes when you walk over to him and sit on the edge of his bed. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, Hong-ssi?” you ask him softly.

“Yes!” he tells you firmly.

“Really?” you confirm. “Because you seem...maybe a little shy?” you try gently, putting your hand on his to try and help him relax.

“I have a little...little nervous,” he explains, bravely, in English, showing you with his fingers pinched together how ‘little’ the little bit of nervousness is.

“Oh - ginjanghaessoyo?” you check, in Korean. He nods quickly, blushing. You put your hand on his cheek and give him a light kiss. “Well, you don’t need to be. I promise I’ll look after you. And I’m sure you’ll do great for your first time. Still good?” Another nod. “Now, remember just tell me anytime if you want to stop, okay?” you instruct him. “I won’t be annoyed.”

“Okay,” he says with a bright smile.

“And you don’t need to be shy about making noise either, okay? If it feels good, you let me know and I will do the same. It makes it more fun,” you add, with a wink. He giggles, bites his lip and then nods again. “Now c’mere, you sexy little thing,” you tell him, hooking your arm around his waist to pull him closer, and kissing him lingeringly. He moans softly into your mouth and you reward him by deepening the kiss and letting your other hand stray inside his open shirt to play with one of his nipples. He gasps and then moans again, his lips still attached to yours and his tongue exploring your mouth with swiftly-growing passion. You keep kissing him, but press him back onto the bed properly, so that you can straddle his thighs. 

“Where do you want me to kiss you next?” you ask him, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way, and pulling it open, so that you can stroke his naked chest.

“Odiena,” [everywhere] he begs, writhing impatiently under your touch and tossing his head on the pillows in an agony of anticipation. You laugh softly.

“I can’t kiss you everywhere at once,” you object. “Give me a clue...” You let one hand stray back to his nipples, making him arc his back, then you let your other hand deliberately brush the front of his pants, making him buck his hips up to press himself against your fingers.

“Seems like you’re having trouble deciding,” you tease him, letting your lower hand run the length of his still-clothed erection but bending your head towards his chest. You don’t let him get away with it that easily though, swerving at the last second to whisper into his ear:

“Why don’t you show me what you were doing in that booth upstairs this afternoon?”

“I...I wasn’t…” he stammers, blushing and nervously playing with his eyelashes.

“You were though, weren’t you?” you say. “That’s why you ran off when I kissed you. Do you have any idea how much catching you like that turned me on?”

“Oh jinjja?” he asks, surprised, but clearly flattered.

“Mmhm,” you assure him. “C’mon...let me see your jaji...I mean it feels pretty sexy,” you tell him, curling your fingers around the outline of it through his jeans. “Besides, do you honestly think I’ve been able to concentrate on anything all day while you’ve been teasing me while looking like a whole snack with this new hair?” you ask him, undoing his belt and jeans as you speak. He giggles, then self-consciously pushes his bangs back from his face and gives you another of his very pretty smiles but then hisses through his teeth and moans softly as you release his erection from his boxer-briefs and start to stroke him.

“But it’s you who tease me now, noona,” he complains, kissing you until you’re frantic for him. “You make fun by saying me all this things,” he elaborates, his breath getting more and more shallow as you speed up your strokes and his hips follow along by instinct, a thin trickle of precum leaking from his tip and making him groan helplessly.

“I’m not teasing you, babe,” you reassure him. “Every time you’ve caught my eye today, every time you’ve shown off these lovely assets of yours,” you stop caressing his cock to run your fingers longingly over his lips, then along his clavicle and then down over his hip, making him arc into your touch again… “I’ve wanted you more and more. But I’ve known that despite every inch of me aching for you, I’m not allowed to have you. You got teased by the others for saying you look pretty today? Well I think that you look not just pretty but also hot and very sexy. But I’m not supposed to tell you that. I’m not even supposed to think that,” you murmur, running your tongue over his bottom lip and eliciting a needy whine from deep in his throat. “But I don’t care anymore, Hong-Joong-ah...I want you so badly.” You kiss him again and he responds eagerly, but chastely, making you melt at his angelic sweetness. 

After a moment, you reach for his cock again and start to pump your hand up and down it, but he flinches, so you pull back straight away, noting that his cheeks are aflame with blushes.

“Would you like to stop?” you check with him, keeping your voice soft and gentle.

“Ani, ani,” he stammers, waving his hand to show he just needs to catch his breath. “I just worry that I...will make a mess everywhere...too soon,” he attempts to explain.

“Oh! You’re worried you’re going to cum soon?” you check. He nods, embarrassed. “That’s okay, jagi…” you tell him. “We can slow down for a little while if you like?” He nods again, quickly this time, smiling at you sweetly when you deliberately use the term he had asked you for earlier. You let him fix himself up and then curl into your arms against the pillows with his head on your chest. You lay together quietly for a little while, kissing occasionally, as you play idly with his blueberry-bangs. 

You’re just starting to count your blessings, thinking he’s actually drifting off to sleep after all and you can escape, leaving both his pride and his virginity intact, as his limbs start to feel heavier and his breathing slows towards sleeping pace. But then, just as you begin to gently disentangle yourself, he hooks your leg with his to stop you escaping, rolls over to press his hips against yours and then kisses you rather too passionately. You give in straight away this time, kissing him back with a ferocity to rival his own, and wrapping your legs up around his waist.

He pulls away a little, clearly unsure how to proceed, and kneels up between your legs to watch you, biting his lip again, but this time with a truly unconscious innocence of how sexy he looks. He tilts his head on the side, and then cautiously runs his hands up your sides, apparently not daring to do more. You smile at him and nod discreetly, but he just blushes again and clears his throat nervously.

“It’s okay, Hong-ssi,” you reassure him. “I won’t bite, and I’m not going to stop you anymore tonight. Just follow your instincts. You look like you maybe want to undress me?” you suggest. “Go on then, go ahead.” You smile again, trying to put him at ease, then raise your hand to his cheek and sit up to kiss him messily. You feel him smile and then his hands come up to peel the straps of your top off your shoulders and down your arms.

“Mmm…” you murmur against his lips, shifting to allow him to undo the front of your top, then wriggling a little to help him remove the whole thing, so that you’re kissing him in only your bra and skirt. “Mmff...keep going, jagiya,” you encourage him, lifting his hand back up to your bra straps. You let him struggle with your bra while you get to work on removing his shirt properly and undoing his jeans again. You know you could help him, but you kind of sense it’s better to let him make any mistakes that he’s going to make now, while he’s in a safe environment where he won’t be judged if he’s not perfect at everything. He makes a cute little frustrated noise as he tries to figure out the clasp, but then another pleased noise when he manages to get your bra off, but you pretend not to notice and just let him have his moment, sliding the garment off, then pulling you into his arms again, against his naked chest. 

You kiss the tip of his nose, then tease his jeans carefully off his hips and down his thighs, letting him kick and yank them the rest of the way off until he’s kneeling on his bed in front of you, blushing but eager, in only his boxer briefs. You lean across and start to tease kisses from his knee, working your way up his thigh towards his thinly-veiled erection.

“Oh, jebal~,” he begs you, trying to move his leg so that you will come higher. 

“Jebal? Mwo, jebal?” you murmur, wanting him to say it. “What do you want me to do?”

“Kiss...kiss,” he breathes, still in a pleading voice.

“Kiss? I’m already kissing…” you tease him, tickling his skin with your tongue now, and allowing your lips to dance ever nearer to the bottom leg-line of his panties. He moans, much louder now, and you let your other hand dip into his waistband to just barely skim the silky head of his cock. His moans intensify and he slams his head inadvertently back against the headboard of his bed, startling you a little, but not as much as he startles himself. He winces then rubs the back of his head with his hand and gives you a slightly hurt look.

“Yah, noona~” he whines. “You know what I’m mean. I want you to please...put my...my [he gives up and opts for the Korean when he can’t think of the English] je jaji...into your mouth,” he explains in a pouting almost-aegyo tone. You kinda want to tease him a little longer, but frankly you can never resist him when he talks in pout, even when the stakes are this high. And, judging by his sparkling eyes, he knows it too.

Trying not to hurt him, you pull his boxer-briefs carefully away from his erection and lick his shaft from balls to tip like an icecream. He shudders and another long, low moan escapes his body as his hands clutch his bedsheets. You raise your head to take him in your mouth, gently moving one of his hands to place it on the back of your head and indicating he should let you know how fast he needs you to go. Arcing into you, he presses his hand against the back of your head, needing you to speed up, which you do, using your free hand to hold him steady and being careful to keep your teeth behind your lips. After an interval of his pretty moans and your jaw starting to feel it, his hips dance, and he swears under his breath, in Korean.

“Wait-stop-stop!” he yelps, trying to pull away, but it’s too late and his voice trembles into another prolonged groan as you taste his warm jizz flooding your tongue. “Oh, shibal, mianhamnida,” [fuck, sorry] he stammers, mortified. You ignore his sweet objections and lick him clean, then pull him down by your side and let him cuddle shyly into you with his face turned into the crook of your neck.

“Noona?” he asks, squeezing your waist with his arm.

“What is it, Joong?” you murmur sleepily, the soju finally settling in your veins.

“Please stay here with me?” he requests. You sigh, afraid to tell him.

“No, no - that’s too much, doll,” you try to cushion the blow with a finger under his chin and a soft kiss on his lips. “I have to go back to my room, now that the damage is done.”

“But you say...well...we are going to have sex,” he pouts.

“And we did, you little minx,” you tell him, but he is already shaking his head, cheeky.

“Ani. I still am...virgin,” he corrects you defiantly, pleased with himself for remembering the English word. 

“You’re still? Wow...you’re really going to go for the literal definition, are you?,” you laugh quietly at his sass. “Well, you may find you need to recharge a little first,” you sigh, giving in. He veritably purrs at this update and you see a devilish grin slip across his lips, though he keeps his eyes tightly squeezed shut, making you marvel anew at his beautiful eyelashes, by this stage of the evening innocent of eyelash-curlers or mascara, yet still works of art in themselves. 

You cuddle up together for another small interval, but this time you realize that you must have drifted off to sleep yourself, when you open your eyes to find the sun peeking over the horizon outside. You smile to yourself when you notice Hong-Joong slumbering sweetly, completely naked in your arms, but you’re not sure how to disentangle yourself without waking him again. You manage to edge yourself out of his embrace, get your top back on and locate your bra but when you turn to give him one last longing look, he is propped up on one arm, eyes blearily open and watching you resentfully. He opens his mouth to say something and you swiftly close the distance between the two of you, to put a finger to his lips.

“You trick me,” he whispers fiercely. You try not to laugh at his indignant tone.

“I didn't, sweetheart! I fell asleep, same as you,” you defend yourself.

“So we have sex now?” he asks you, yawning and covering his mouth politely. You shake your head at him with amused incredulity.

“We can’t now,” you tell him. “There’s no way people won’t find out. It’s morning.” He just shrugs and tries to pull your skirt off.

“I don’t care,” he informs you cheekily, switching to an attempt to remove your top when you intervene with his attempt to remove your skirt. “If we are...balli-balli...[quickly - if you go fast] then we not wake members,” he bargains.

“Okay, okay! My gosh, you’re persistent,” you marvel, drawing him into your arms and kissing him. He deepens the kiss, tugging at your lip with his teeth in the sweetest punishment as his hands work quickly to remove the rest of your clothes.

“Hey - where’s that shy boy from last night?” you tease him, but he just sticks his tongue out at you and taps your legs, making you spread them so that he can climb between them. He’s all masterful confidence until you feel his erection tickling the inside of your thighs and he pauses, on his hands and knees, looking at you nervously. You run your hands along his body and down onto his hips and pull him forward.

“Ah - there’s our shy boy! It’s okay, jagi,” you reassure him, wrapping your legs up around him and lifting your hips to meet him. He kisses you under the jawline, and lets his hands stray towards your chest, so you drop your hand down to guide his cock to rest against your already-wet folds, then give your hips a little thrust so that he slips in. He gasps and thrusts his own hips instinctively, then you grab them and pull him the rest of the way forward, simultaneously eliciting a jagged moan from his lips and sighing with relief yourself, as he slides right up inside you, making you call out his name. He moans your name back to you, then finally starts to rock his hips back and forward, his breath coming hotter and faster against your neck as his moans get louder and more urgent.

“Aigoh! Ai-ai-yuh...uh! Aiohhohh!” he vocalizes shamelessly as he gets more and more caught up in your lovemaking, until he appears to have forgotten his surroundings. You surrender to him completely, kissing and caressing every part of him that you can reach.

“Oh-uh...pokbalhaga naol got gatayo~” [I feel like I’m going to explode] he confesses as his hips start to reach jackhammer speed.

“Oh, jinjja?” you gasp. He moans in the affirmative into your neck. “Do it, jagi. Cum inside me!” you gasp. His hands force you to speed up to his pace and his lovely voice climbs high enough to definitely have caught the attention of the other members. 

“Oh shib!” he groans, his lips parted and his eyes at half-mast in a perfect mask of sexual gratification. “Oh...oh ne...oh fuck...Do you think…” he pants out “they can...hear us?”

“Yes we can!” hollers WooYoung from behind the wall, his voice indicating that he’s been wanting to object since the beginning of this latest tryst. “Please stop already! We’re happy for you hyung but honestly, we’re trying to sleep too, you know?!” he elaborates. Shaking your head at WooYoung’s lack of tact, you grab Hong-Joong’s sexy, taut ass in your hands, kiss him fiercely on the lips and lift your hips to a higher angle, letting him penetrate you even further. His hips do a final dance and you feel him cum up inside you, before collapsing next to you on his back, chest heaving and one arm flung across his face, while the other pulls you close.

“Better?” you ask him, cuddling against his side.

“Mmm....ne...much better,” he affirms, sighing contentedly. 

[pingutats]

my dearest darling

in which you and harry spend a sunday morning having coffee & cake, and spontaneously decide to go engagement ring shopping together.

warnings: a little suggestive at the end. mostly just pure fluff!

word count: 3.4k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

The little alleyway off the main street filled with café tables is a perfect place for you and Harry to sit unseen. In fact, in this little alcove, it’s easy to watch the world pass by the two of you. It’s a nice reprieve from the usual of the world watching Harry. 

He’s wearing sunglasses anyway, just in case—despite the overcast weather. 

You frown at him, resting your elbows on the table and lacing your fingers together to rest your chin on. “I really think that makes you more conspicuous.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Nah. Or at least, if people notice, they’re going to notice an odd bloke in sunnies, not me.”

“They’ll notice it’s you.”

He glances at the busy footpath. “‘S working so far, love.”

A young waitress rounds the corner from the cafe’s front entrance and sets your coffees down on the table. You move your elbows off the table politely to give her space.

“Thanks,” Harry says, reaching for his black coffee. 

You smile at the waitress as you wrap your hands around the latte you ordered, warming up your freezing fingers. You notice the way she hesitates before she leaves, how she looks at Harry like she wants to say something before before quickly spinning on her heels and walking away. When she’s out of earshot, you look at Harry. “She knows.”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

The waitress reappears a minute later with the little cakes you ordered. This time, she’s braver. “I’m so sorry—are you Harry Styles?” she asks, saying his name in a voice that’s akin to a reverent whisper.

His eyes dart to you for a split second and he raises his eyebrow enough that only you’ll notice, conceding to you, then smiles at her. “Yeah, I am. Sorry, what’s your name?”

You watch him navigate the encounter easily, like you’ve watched so many times. The girl asks for a photo and he politely declines, explaining that he doesn’t want to draw attention, but offers to sign a napkin for her instead. He a short message (nice to meet you, all my love) to her and draws a couple hearts after he signs his name, then passes it to her with a sweetly genuine thanks her for her support. 

“Oh my gosh, no, thank you,” she says earnestly. “It was so, so nice to meet you.” She glances at you, then, and her cheeks go even pinker. “Thanks,” she says again, and then she’s gone.

You let a giggle free at the awkward way his fans treat you, like they don’t know if it’s appropriate to talk to you as well, and how they struggle to find something to say to you anyway. Once it might have bothered you. It’s just amusing to you now. You raise your brows at Harry. “All your love?” you tease, quoting the message he wrote on the napkin. “Where’s my share?”

He pouts from behind his sunglasses. “Don’t be like that.”

You kick his shin gently underneath the table. “I’m kidding around. She was sweet. I like watching you do that, you’re so good at it.”

His foot swings around to trap your ankle between his. “Trying to play footsie at eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning? You little minx.”

You roll your eyes and wrench your foot free, rattling the table as you do so. He laughs—a sharp barking ha! that makes you smile through your embarrassment at causing a small commotion. 

“Who’s conspicuous, sorry?” he asks.

 You shake your head at him and stab your fork into your apple and cinnamon muffin. He keeps giggling as he slides his own plate with the carrot cake to his side of the table and picks up a fork himself.

“Mm, that’s good,” he says after he swallows his first bite. “Better than the one I make.”

“Well, baking isn’t known to be one of your talents.”

He claps a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.” He leans over the table and skewers a piece of your muffin on his fork, dodging your attempts to swat his hand away with great agility. He pops it in his mouth triumphantly, cocking his head like he’s challenging you. 

In return, you steal a piece of his cake. 

“That was a much larger piece than what I took,” he accuses. 

You shrug.

His phone, face down on the table, dings. He glances up at you. 

“Check it,” you tell him. You know he only has alerts on for his closest friends—otherwise his phone would be ringing all day long. “I don’t mind.”

He bites his lip apologetically and flips the phone over, reading it. “Oh, it’s Tom. Hang on a sec.” He starts typing back.

You crane your neck around to read the message—something about Tom being free at the end of July, and Harry is giving a thumbs-up to that.

“Where are you off to?” you ask. 

“France, maybe,” he replies. You’re aware that discovering this kind of information so suddenly would be jarring for most couples, enough to even incite a fight—but you and Harry aren’t exactly a normal couple, and international trips are just part and parcel of your relationship. Hell, he goes on world tours for months at a time. You’re lucky, you suppose, that you function just as well long-distance as you do when you’re living together. 

“Lads’ trip?”

He sends the message and clicks his phone off, leaning back in his chair. “Nah. Taking you to Paris and getting down on m’knee in front of the Eiffel Tower,” he says, nodding sagely. 

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, Tom’s there to get the photos.” He shovels a forkful of the cake into his mouth and then points his fork in the general direction of a street busker playing a violin across the road. He swallows. “And I’m getting that guy to play a little tune, for the atmosphere,” he adds. 

You raise your brows. “Oh, you’ve got budget for this, then.”

He smiles. “Nothing but the best for my dearest darling.”

You snort.

He carefully cuts a piece of cake with the edge of his fork. “Nah, we’re thinking of doing a trip down to his friend’s studio in—somewhere in France, I can’t remember really. Friends and family welcome too, if you want to come. Apparently it’s a real nice place.” He eats his mouthful and then lifts his sunnies to look at you with clear eyes. “We are getting married, though. I mean that.”

Your cheeks threaten to burst from how badly you want to smile, but you force yourself to assume a serious face, just to humour him. “Of course we are.”

Despite the butterflies it inspires, this conversation isn’t new. You’ve been with Harry a couple of years now and you both know you’re on the same page when it comes to your shared future. There are no hard plans, but the direction is set. You’re getting there someday. 

He puffs his cheeks out. “I feel like you aren’t taking this as seriously as I am.”

You sigh melodramatically. “Well, sweetheart, I haven’t seen a ring yet.”

“A ring? You should have asked,” he drawls, then suddenly sits up straight and points a finger at you. “Don’t take that as a challenge. I want to be the one to ask.”

You shrug. “Can’t make any promises.”

His arm shoots forward to grab at your hand and you almost laugh out loud at the puppy-eyes he’s making at you. “No, please, baby, I swear you can do everything else, but let me do the proposing bit.”

In your heart, you’re happy he’s so insistent, because this is exactly how you want it to be too. In your mind, though, you really enjoy tormenting him. 

“I’ll think about it,” you concede, and he groans.

“I’m buying a ring soon as I can, just to lock it in,” he tells you as he destroys what’s left of his carrot cake.

Once you’ve finished and Harry’s gone up to pay for the coffee and cake (he also took a moment to lean over the counter to snap a group selfie with the waitress who served you earlier and a couple others too) you walk back up the street in the general direction of your car that’s parked a few blocks down. The weather is pleasant today and the sun is even peeking out from behind the clouds now, justifying his sunglasses. 

Your mind starts to drift (his arm wrapped loosely around your waist anchors you to the real world) as you think about how nice it is to be with Harry, how you’ve learned to appreciate each physical moment you have with him because they are so precious. After the tours, the promotional trips, the film sets, and all the little things in between, you understand how to be with Harry. You know not everyone can handle a life like this, and you’re sure that if it wasn’t Harry whose return you awaited, you wouldn’t be able to either. But he always returns. 

Harry comes to a sudden halt in front of a shop window, gazing in. You’re nearly yanked off your feet as you keep trying to walk with your arm around him—he’s so steady that he doesn’t budge. You stand next to him and look into what you realise is a jewellery store. 

“What do you think?” he asks. 

“Huh?”

He looks down, his arm squeezing around your shoulder. “Said I’d get you a ring, didn’t I?”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “What, today?”

“‘M not asking. Just preparing.”

You raise your eyebrows up at him. “That is… that is really a technicality.”

“Humour me,” he says. “C’mon.” He shepherds you into the store, steering you by your shoulders. 

It’s small and pretty in here, the air from the fans cool against your sun-warmed skin. There are hardly any other customers at the moment, so you have some kind of valuable privacy. There are a couple of glass counters that run along either side of the store with meticulously placed themed displays inside them. You gravitate immediately to the closest thing, a cluster of rough amethysts hanging from necklaces. 

“Aren’t these so cute?” you comment to Harry.

His arms wrap around you from behind and you reach up to grasp onto his crossed forearms resting against your chest. “Oh, yeah, they are.”

You stay there looking at the necklaces for a little too long—it’s not like you’re really that fascinated by the jewels, but more that you’re just enjoying Harry’s head leaning over your shoulder and his chest pressed to your back as you stand there. When your gaze meanders along the counter and you see something new, though, you shake free of his grip and follow your whims.

This store isn’t labelled out front with a massive brand. You’re pretty sure it’s an independent jeweller, judging by the neat description cards that accompany each small collection, explaining the theme in a lively and personal manner. This is what makes you really fall in love with the place and feel sure that this is where you’ll find the perfect ring. You know Harry could afford any ring from any famous brand, the heaviest jewels imaginable, easily worthy of a feature article in Vogue magazine. He could probably organise to have a diamond dug up fresh specifically to go on your finger. 

It’s the fact that Harry could give you anything in the world that makes you not want it at all. Special, to the two of you, isn’t something that you’ll find in wealth or the crowds that adore him.

It’s found in a day like this.

“Oh, my god, H, look at this one,” you gasp, grabbing his wrist and pulling him over.

He bends over the counter, his gaze following the line of your pointing finger. “Oh, that is pretty,” he says. 

It’s a simple gold band with a small, neatly carved diamond fixed to it. It isn’t flashy at all, which is what drew you to it. You knew he’d like it too. Despite the decadence of his performances, he can be a different man behind closed doors and you love that part of him. The secret part, the one that only you know so well. 

“I’m in love with it,” you tell him.

Harry nods. “Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

You never doubted that he would agree, but his assent sends a bolt of excitement up your spine. It’s all so real, suddenly, and you can’t wait to see him on his knee for you, to see that ring on your finger. You know your ring size off by heart (how could you not, being in a relationship with the jewellery connoisseur that Harry is), so there’ll be no need for you to try it on today. You’re left with only the raw anticipation of the day he’ll slide it onto your finger. 

His hands come down to rest on your hips as you both stare at the ring. You imagine you can hear his heart, knowing that it’ll be beating erratically because his excitement must match yours—you know how he feels about the idea of marriage. 

He spins you around to face him, leaving his hands on your hips. He looks at you very seriously. His sunglasses are resting on top of his head now, pushing back his curls and revealing his green eyes and furrowed brow to you.

“You know, if we’re seen buying an engagement ring…” he begins, trailing off. He shrugs. “Just want to think about that.”

You screw up your nose. “According to some magazines we got married last week, and also six months ago. Just being in here is probably going to spark something.” You glance behind you, as if you’ll see journalists scribbling away on their theories, then flatten your palms against his chest, smoothing out his shirt. “I’m happy to ignore it. I want to just do our thing, H.”

He nods, pursing his lips, and gradually the crease in his forehead disappears. “Okay. Good.” Twin smiles spread over your faces and you have the feeling of being two giddy kids, high-schoolers about to have their first kiss. Something new, unknown, exciting, that the two of you are going into together. His eyes are practically sparkling at you. If this was a cartoon, you think his pupils would be shaped like hearts right now. Something is starting to bud and you can feel it growing up inside you and between you, preparing to bloom. 

“Alright,” you say, breaking the insulating silence to draw you both back to the real world. 

He blinks a couple of times as if he’s just waking up. “Alright,” he echoes. “Let’s get it.”

He waves over a man drifting through the store in a neat suit and points at the ring. “Excuse me, can we please have a look at this one?”

The two of you watch the man unlock the cabinet and slide the plate of rings out, placing it on the counter. He picks up the one Harry pointed out. “It’s a lovely one, sir.”

“It is,” Harry says. His hand finds yours and squeezes your fingers. “What size is it?”

The man checks the price and tells you, and your mouth drops open. Surely there is something supernaturally perfect going on, because it’s exactly your size. You and Harry look at each other incredulously. 

The man seems to notice your unspoken conversation, because he helpfully adds, “We can resize it if you need.”

Harry chuckles. “No, it’s perfect. I think…” he trails off, looking at you. “What do you think?”

You nod at him, grinning. You rub your thumb over the back of his palm as he tells the man, “Thank you. We’d like this one, please.”

You stand slightly behind him as he pays for it, flexing your hands and wringing them in front of you. You know it’s all in your head, but your left ring finger is tingling as if it senses that it’s missing a piece. You really just want to wear the ring at this minute, but when the man selling it to you offers, Harry shakes his head quickly. 

“I’ll hold onto it for now,” he says. He accepts the little box from the man and slips it into his pocket. “Thank you so much.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, sir. Enjoy it, and congratulations to the two of you.”

Harry snakes his arm around your waist as you walk back out to the street. His hips knock against you as he squeezes you into his side, and you can feel the little box in his pocket. You can’t help the grin that takes over your whole face. You worry you look like an idiot, smiling so widely at nothing, but when you glance up at Harry, he looks exactly the same.

Your car is parked down a quieter road and you get to relax a little once you’re away from the crowds of the main shopping strip. You can walk a little more slowly and Harry loosens up a bit. His hyper-vigilance starts to strip away. You can see the tension in his shoulders dissolving and here’s your Harry, emerging from his defensive layers. Most people wouldn’t notice this change, but you do. You feel how he adjusts the grip of his hand on your hip, how he leans into you a little more as you walk. In your closeness, you can smell his cologne and you think of how you watched him spray it on this morning—and how you’re going to be watching him do that for the rest of your lives.

He glances over his shoulder and you copy him. The narrow street behind you is empty, but you don’t get a moment to really register this before you feel his arms tighten around your waist and you’re swept off your feet for a second as he crashes his lips into yours.

You close your eyes, letting the kiss envelop all your senses. The sweetness of the cake’s icing lingering on his lips; his arms locked around your waist, holding you up; the rapid beating of your heart. He pulls away slowly and your eyes flutter open. His face is just inches from yours and he’s looking at you with such intensity you feel naked. Not for the first time, you’re in awe of how impossibly green his eyes are; you could make a palette from every forest in the world, and it wouldn’t hold a candle to what you see in front of you right now.

“Y/N,” he says. He cracks a grin. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Your reply is simply to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss. Your hand tangles in his hair and you feel his tongue running along your bottom lip before he pulls away again quickly.

“Fuck,” he says, sounding lost for breath. “Need to stop before I make a fool of m’self in public.” He even physically takes a step back from you, his eyes comically wide.

You giggle. Your gaze travels down his body and you notice the indent of the box in his pocket. “Is that a ring in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

He shakes his head at you. “You’ve gone all giddy. ‘M getting you home right now and then we’re celebrating properly.” He turns around and starts walking towards the car, his long legs carrying him faster than you can keep up.

Your stomach flutters imagining what his idea of celebrating might be. Suddenly, the only thing on your mind is getting back to your house as soon as humanly possible. You run after Harry, skipping around in front of him and jogging backwards as you waggle your fingers in his face. “So, when are you going to pop the question?” you ask.

“Oh, honey,” he says, patting his pocket with the ring. He grins. “It’s going to be when you least expect it, I’ll promise you that.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed—if you did, a reblog or a message is really encouraging and lovely for me to see!! the title is taken from the song by etta james.

this fic is the first part of a series called “here we are in heaven,” and i’m really really excited about it. you can read my earlier fic, at last!, if you want to see where this will end up, but there will be more parts to fill the in-between. plus blurbs and stuff! let’s chat about it! 

my masterlist can be found here. have a beautiful day!