#and my god the speed of his jumping up and packing away his meal. and the sheepish look. :>

[vigorouslycoy]

i love saying young man and young lady and ma'am when i'm scolding people. it's like bruh but way cuntier

[hunted-moth]

Forest Of Dreams Pt 2 // New Life, New dreams

Word Count// 3,732

Summary// Y/n awoke to a new dream after being in cryo sleep, this one was different for some reason. As she and Jake landed on pandora they met Norm and their Boss Grace Agustine. Tension was high during the meeting. The next day Jake and Y/n finally experience that thing that put them there in the first place

Warnings// Language, nightmare, not listing to med techs(idk I'm bad at this link if I need to add stuff!)

A/N EY your back! Glad you liked it, this one is a bit longer, also I don't understand na’vi so please don't expect me to write the na’vi parts, ill translate it the best I can though

Speaking Na’vi

‘Thoughts’

*mini time skip, like a small location change

You were running, jumping over logs, climbing over rocks. But every time you got close to your prize you'd hear laughing and they run even further from you. As you speed up, you saw a figure, it was the first time you saw the person who giggled and laughed in your dreams. And damn was she beautiful, putting the gorgeous forest to shame.

You saw her on an edge of a waterfall, as you walked closer she jumped and you woke up in your cyro pod.

It was dark and cramped, you were confused for just a second before remembering where you were.

You felt yourself move as the pod you were in opened. You were unbuckled and you started to float up.

“We here,” you asked, the tiredness escaping your mouth

“Oh yeah, we're here alright,” the nurse said with a hint of energy in him.

He continued “You've been in cryo for 5 years 9 months, and 22 days. You will be hungry and you will be weak” he yelled to the other men and women who had just awoken from cryo like you.

You glided over to your locker and grabbed some of the clothes you stored in there. It was your school sweatshirt and a pair of pants with shoes.

They then corraled you to board the ship that’ll take you to Pandora. You sat next to Jake and noticed he look serious, giggling to yourself as he seemed to be in his marine mode. He often said that ‘once a marine, always a marine’.

*

You sat next to Jake on the air shuttle taking you to Pandora. You were given a safety briefing on the Exo packs and the air on the moon. The mask looked interesting, it covered the whole face while still showing it.

As the shuttle was landing everyone stood up in a single file line, god it reminded you of your JROTC days back in high school. You stayed seated with your brother, you offered to help him but he declined it. You assume he was in full marine mode by now.

“Common special case, I'm not waiting all day for you two” the man stated as you both passed him walking onto the tarmac. The place was littered with army dogs, who would've been fighting for freedom or earth, but here it was for a paycheck.

As the two of you were going forward, an amp almost walk over Jake if he didn't see it first

“Look out hot rod” was all he said. Jake ignored him, but you threw your arms up ‘saying what the hell man’ without saying anything. You continue forward with a sour look on your face, but a giant bulldozer rolls by, with giant arrows in the tiers, stoped both you and Jake in your tracks, having a look of awe on your face you said “Woah, some big arrows huh,” you alerting two security ops. They turn to you and Jake.

“Ey man, look at that, meal on wheels and a science puke with it,” one said and the other went “Ah man now that's just wrong,” with a smirk.

You Jake got to where they were, noticing that they were staring at you both.

“What you two limp dicks staring at?” Jake said with some attitude in his voice

Causing the bald one to respond with “looking at you stumpy, and it ain’t so limp right now” He had a disgusting smirk on his face as he eyed. You just rolled your eyes and walked away

You heard one of them do the cat call whistle at you, you turned around and said:

“suck my cock and balls, ya bald fuck” You turned around firing back while doing the suck it a gesture

Turning back around you looked down at Jake to see him shaking his head a rolling away from you into the building.

LOCATION- Safety Briefing: Mess Hall

You and Jake were a bit late, the fact it was a huge building and there weren’t places for Jake to wheel through didn't help. But eventually, both of you got there

“You are not in Kansas anymore.” was the first thing that reached your ears

“You are on Pandora, ladies, and gentlemen. Respect that fact every second of every day. If there is a Hell, you might wanna go there for some R&R after a tour on Pandora.” the little joke he made was kinda amusing to you, but you only chucked to yourself as the two of you walked in, opting to sit in the back. You hop on a table to listen to the rest of his speech.

“Out there beyond that fence, every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes.” he continues, though you think he's being a bit dramatic to scare the new recruits.

“We have an indigenous population of humanoids called the Na'vi. They're fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin that will stop your heart in one minute - and they have bones reinforced with naturally occurring carbon fiber. They are very hard to kill. As head of security, it is my job to keep you alive. I will not succeed. Not with all of you.” he said the last part looking in your and Jake's direction, but you think he was looking at Jake the whole time.

You spaced out the entire time after that, you were used to military briefs from all the drills in JROTC plus you knew what to expect from your avatar training. After that, you hopped off the table and the two of you headed out to the labs.

You and Jake were in a tight halfway trying to squeeze through everyone when you heard a small ‘excuse me’ from behind you and then saw a tall man, you recognized him as Norm Spellman. Meeting him at avatar training, though you two were in different squads so you were never that close to him, but he still came over a few times.

“Excuse me your Jake right, Tom's brother. Sorry im Norm Spellman, Man you look exactly like him” He shook Jake's hand then you perked up “Hey wheres my greeting Norm” you joked

He looked embarrassed and went to apologize but you budded in saying “Nah it's cool man”

“you know him?” Jake asked, but he didn't have any heart like he didn't really care. “Hmm yeah me, him, and Tom were in the program together, different squads though,” you said like it didn't matter, you noticed the fall of Norm's face

“I'm sorry to hear about you brother, he was a good man, it came as a big shock to all of us” He tried to offer some condolence but it came out awkward. “Yeah,” Jake said

“hey man it's alright don't worry about it too much, don't mind him either he's a bit of a grouch right now” you tried to comfort Norm, he willed his way through another conversation “So you're taking over his avatar right,” he asked with some excitement trying to bring the mood up, a ‘yep’ was that was heard “umm want to go take a look at them, there in the bio lab”

“Yeah sure let's go check it out, want to see how mines holding up” you mused and started walking to the lab

LOCATION- BIO LABS

“Hey welcome to Pandora good to have ya,” a man you assume to be a scientist in charge right now shakes you and Jake's hand greeting you to Pandora.

“Damn, they got big” Jake chuckled “Yeah they matured on the way out” Norm stated and the scientist constituted “Yeah great muscle tone too, it'll take a few hours to get them canted, but you should be able to drive them tomorrow” he then pointed over to the other two avatars saying “there's your guys”

You walked over to the female one and saw your avatar. Her hair was already braided around the queue, but extra hair was still loose, clouding her face. She was just floating around in the amino acids and twitched a few times.

You were just staring at her you didn't notice Jake rolling over to you, with Norm not far behind.

“Wow, looks just like you, but taller…and blue” Jake said “Yeah, wonder if ill still be taller than you” you joked, Jake never liked how you suddenly got to call him short. “Yeah we’ll see, bet ill be taller than you by a foot” he stated with a puffed chest

You punched his arm, then Max stated he'd take you to the link pod bay, and to meet your boss for the next 6 years, Grace Augustine.

*

“WHERES MY GODDAME CIGGURETE” was the first thing you heard. But you were more paying attention to Jake and the Norms convo, it started with a simple question from Jake.

Whose this Grace Augustine, it was a simple question one you knew the answer to but the Norm beat you to it

“Grace Augustine is a legend, she's the head of the avatar program and wrote the book and I mean literally wrote the book on pandora botany,” Norm said as if it was a simple fact of life and Max interjected saying “Yeah its cause she likes plants more than people” he added

“Ahh there she is, cinderella back from the ball I see, Grace I’d like you to meet Norm Spellman and Y/n and Jake Sully”.

Grace took a puff from her smoke and addressed you and Norm

“Norm and Y/n heard a lot of good things about you two, hows your Na’vi,” she asked while putting her hands behind her back

Norm shot first saying “May all mother smile upon our first meeting” He finished off with a grin like a just got all As on his report card

“Not bad you sound a little formal” Grace replied in na’vi to which Norm continued with “I studied for five years, there's still some much to learn” She then turned to you expecting a show of your words

“Ahh well, not good at it, still learning” you finished with a shy smile “weak point in learning to speak it hearing good” Grace only nodded and said “it can be rather hard”

Max tried to divert the attention to Jake and introduce him to her, but she only waved him off saying

“Yeah yeah, I know who you are and I don't need you. I need your brother, you know the other brother, who had a Ph.D. and trained for three years on this mission” she said in a tone, both you and Jake didn't like too much

“He's dead, I know that it's a big inconvenience for everyone” Jake spat at her. You felt his annoyance radiate off him. You then threw your hat into the ring and shot off with

“Ma’am I don't exactly like you insulting and deeming my brother, he may not be what you need but he's here to help, any way he can. So lay off a bit will you” You finished off, and you looked around to see Norm's eyes as wide as saucers, and Grace's face, it had a mix of ‘what did you just say’ and ‘hmm impressive’.

“How much lab training have you had” She directed it towards Jake and you knew he was screwed, he practically failed science even with you and tommys help

“I dissected a frog once,” he said with a smug look, and that look combined with the answer blew Grace's lid off

“Ya see, ya see? They're just pissing on us without even giving us the courtesy of calling it rain. I'm going to Selfridge.” with that, she walked off.

Max tried to reason with her “Grace. No, I don't think…” but it was futile as Grace just fought back “No, man, this is such bullshit! Gonna kick his corporate butt. He has no business sticking his nose in MY department.”

And with that, she went off to bridgehead to talk with you mused. Max faced you guys and told you guys to be here at 0800, told Jake to say big words, and walked off.

The three of you just stood there, looking at each other. Jake was in the biggest sour mood, you were peeved, and Norm looked at you two like you were combing into one in front of him.

“Wha-what did you two just do!” he said you and Jake just looked at each other. You were confused about why he was so bewildered.

“What do you mean?” you questioned him with a look of confusion written on your face, Jake looked more annoyed that he was being questioned.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN- WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you just told off Grace Augustine, our boss” “Yeah what about it, she was shit-talking my brother, Sullies don't ride like that” with pride for your brother you put your hand on his shoulder. “I-i guess that makes sense, but please don't do that again! Or at least not in front of me might actually have a heart attack!” he finished holding his heart, you and Jake looked at each other and laughed, he sorta reminded you of tom at that moment.

LOCATION- MESS HALL

The three of you went off to your sleeping quarters with the help of another scientist, Then went to eat with the others. You sat next to Jake and were talking to another scientist, you didn't notice that Jake was more or less by himself eating, to wrap up talking about Pandora.

When a woman came up to your table, wearing an airforce uniform, the table got kinda quiet as Grace stopped talking to just looked at her, you looked over at her when she started speaking

“I'm looking for a Jake Sully.” she looked around then Jake spoke up “Down here.” she looked down then grinned and tilted her head in a direction “Come with me, Quaritch

needs ya,” Grace raised her voice at this “now what does he need him for?” she sounded annoyed already “I'm not sure just needs him ma'am-” “are you just gonna stand here? Let's go.” and with that, he was off, the women jogged after him leading him to where he was needed.

‘Wonder what he needs with Jake’ You continued your conversation and ended lunch and retired to your bed to finally get some shut-eye.

LOCATION- ROOM

Sleep was difficult, being in a new place, hell on a new planet, meaning sleep was hard to come by. But the sweet embrace of sleep hugged you, and you were out like a light.

*

You were walking in the dense forest, with careful steps. Looking around for a way out of the forest. It was nightfall now, and you could feel the fear in your body with each step as it rose. You heard something in the brush you stared at for a minute before feeling okay that nothing would jump out at you.

That's when you heard it, a giggle. But it didn't sound happy or joyful, no, it sounded sinister and evil. But you couldn't see where it was coming from, which only made your fear worsen.

When a sudden rustle in the bushes made you spin to it. Not seeing anything, you turn back, but you heard it again, the giggles, right behind you. You took off, faster than you ever ran before.

But with your luck, your foot got caught on a root and you were sent flying to the floor. You turn on your back to see what awaits you. You see nothing then the laughter starts again. This time, it surrounded the forest, suffocating your ears. Then you heard it pounce on you, you closed your eyes- and you sat up in your bed, sweating drips down your forehead.

Then your alarm goes off signally to you that it's 6:30 now, meaning you have half hour to eat breakfast and get ready.

*

You were eating with your brother. You two were just talking when norm cam and sat your table, Jake looked slightly annoyed but you spoke up and greeted him.

“Hey Norm, how’d ya sleep last night?” “Oh alright, the beds are bit uncomfortable but I’ll like haha” you both laughed when Jake asked how you slept, “so what about you? You look like you saw a ghost when you left your room.”

“Oh uhh, we’ll I had the forest dream again, but this time it was more like a nightmare, It was like someone was watching me then I started running with I heard giggling surround me then I woke up” you finished with a shrug “hmm yeah that’s a night meat alright,”

Norm looked slightly confused “wait forest dreams, do you always have dreams like these?” He asked with a confused face “oh yeah since I was a kid, but they weren’t always like that nightmare, usually I was chasing the laughter, it’s actually what got me into geology” you finished with a smirk.

You checked the time to see 7:30 meaning you only had 30 minutes to get ready, you told the other men this and you all went off.

LOCATION- LINK POD BAY

“So how much link time have you logged,” Grace asked you guys as she walked you to the pods. “Umm about 520 hours” he answered before you, “I logged in about 250 hours” yours wasn't much but it was something compared to Jake “that's good, Norm you in there, Y/n your here, and your here,” she pointed to Jakes pod and did some operating things “so how many hours did you log” “zip” you could just feel the annoyance from the next pod over

You lay down in your pod, the inside was made from this squishy silicon-type material that dip from the pressure that was on it.

The scientist that was assisting you to put the cage down and ask if you were ready, oh you were more than ready, you put your thumbs up and they put the lid down after instructing you to keep your mind blank. Then it was dark, you closed your eyes, relaxing then you saw white

You opened your eyes to see a doctor in your face, “Hey Y/n, how are you feeling?” it was bright as the doc was flashing light in your eyes testing your pupil's dilation. “Your eyes seem good, can you hear me well?” she asked as you felt your ear swivel around “Oh yeah loud and clear doc”

She had you sit up, you look over to Norm and Jake, it look like Jake just woke up. “If you can just perform some movement that is really nice, just wriggle your toes or fingers”

you saw Jake standing up, so decided to try it too.

“Oh no Y/n, you need to sit down please–” “No it's fine I got this, promise” you try to reason with her “No we need you to sit down, you're going a little too fast right now”

When you stood up you almost fell on the poor woman. But you regained your balance, you were close to a wall and you felt your tail hit it “Yo Jake, look at it, I feel like a cat!”

Jake looked in your direction then he felt his tail and looked at it. You and Jake were causing panic for the med techs, they called for you two to be sedated, and you walked forward to Jake and ripped off your IV and other medical stuff.

You landed on him and looked at Max through the window, he yelled saying “guys, listen to me; you are not used to your avatar bodies, you need to return to your beds, this is dangerous-” “This feels great,” “Jake, Y/n-” “c’mon guys, their gonna put you out” they both tried and failed to get you two to your beds

Jake walked away with the biggest grin on his face, you stayed put, just watching him move around the med bay, his tail knocked into some things, then he was gone, he just left the bay.

You saw this and followed after him, same with Norm. when you all got out there Jake was on a court, you ran to him while Norm was still with the med people. You caught up to him

“Hey wait up” You had a playful smile on your face as you caught up to your older brother, Norm not long behind

You two clumsily passed a bunch of people, accidentally bumping into people. Then he started to build momentum, so you built momentum. He noticed and went faster, you chased him and eventually you started to race each other, the fishline unknown to you both

You passed other avatars training on obstacle courses, then you almost ran into an amp suit, you two gave half-hearted apologies, as you ran into a field of fruits.

He stopped suddenly, you almost crashed into him. You caught your breath while looking around, it was…green and full of life, as opposed to earth and base, which was gray and dull. You dug your feet into the dirt, you can't even remember the last time you did that!

“Hey, Sullies!” you both looked over to see… Grace! You both uddered a quiet ‘damn’ and ‘shit’ under your breaths as you saw grace in her avatar for the first time

“Grace?” Jake was the first to speak to her “Who do you think numbnuts?” Grace looked over and threw some fruit at you guys, “Think fast.”

“Motor control looking good” she stated

You caught it and looked at Jake to see if he’d eat, he looked at you and took a bite to make sure it was safe for you. He bit into it and groned from how good it was, and from that, you took your first bite, then another, and another, it was sweet and made you want to keep eating it. Grace giggled at you two, it was like seeing two toddlers tiring something new instead of two adults.

*

After you got your avatar situated and properly looked at which the doctors were not happy with you three.

You sat in your bed, you and Jake looking at your queues, they had white tendrils and were squirming around looking for something to connect to, from what you could remember, it could connect to the environment

“Kinda freaking huh,” Jake said to you, “Yeah reminds me of testicles or so-” you were interrupted with “Don't play with that, you'll go blind” It scared Jake but you just laughed as you knew it was practically harmless. You put it away as you laid down to ‘sleep’. The forest was alive as you could hear so many animals in the forest, but you closed your eyes and opened them in the link pod.

LOCATION- ROOM

You retired to your room after a long and rough day. You cleaned yourself up, changed into comfy clothes, and laid in your bed.

When you closed your eyes and fell asleep you were met with black and then woke up, looks like you didn't have a dream last night.

But now you had an even longer day ahead of you. You, Norm, Jake, and Grace were going out to collect samples out into the forest.

Next // PT 3 Deja Vu

Previous // PT 1 A Shit Place

// Masterlist //

Taglist //

A/N // see told you it would be longer lol. NOW IM EXCITED! We get to meet Neytiri, idk if you noticed but I'm following the plot of the movie, but now I'm wondering if I should end at the Tree of Souls or just complete it like in the movie. And even do some way off the water stuff, like head cannons of they function and work, but we’ll see when that happens ;)

Anyways let me know what you think, and give me ideas and stuff for later chapters and stuff

MY DUMBASS DIDN’T PUT ANY TAGS!!! I wonder no was seeing it T-T

[kimnjss]

how sticky | kth

⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader // taehyung focus. ⇢ genre: smut. // pwp. ⇢ word count: 7.6K ⇢ theme: established relationships.  ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, poly relationship, handjobs, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), public sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up lovelies), all the boys wanna kiss yn, cum inside/stuffing, slight over stimulation if you squint. ⇢ A/N: literally this idea came to me while watching the first episode and seeing tae washes the dishes sooo, here you goo!! lmao x also if it seems messy or all over the place, that’s bc i wrote this while streaming dynamite and obvi got distracted . 

Namjoon is the first to spot you, just as you're tugging your suitcase from the trunk of your car. The large grin that takes over his features as he makes his way over to you, brown hair flopping in the wind with each step he takes. A silver pot held in his hands that he must've forgotten the purpose of upon setting sights on you.

“You're here.” He says with a large smile, dimples showing while he leaning down to press a soft kiss to your waiting lips. “Did you eat?”

Just with one look around the backyard, you can tell that they just finished eating. Had hoped to arrive a bit earlier so you'd be able to eat with them. “Not yet,” He looked good, as usual, but oddly more attractive in this outdoor environment.

The blue two-piece outfit, which you had quickly realized was a favorite of his, hung loosely around his body. The muscles in his arms flexed as he kept his grip on the pot in his hand. Eyes turn to half-moons with the way he was smiling at you.

It had been a few weeks since you saw them last. What with their jam packed schedule and you keeping up with the things going on in your own life, there wasn't really time to be together the way you wanted. A constant long-distance relationship with the seven of them, even if they were only a few miles away.

Which was the biggest reason you were jumping on the chance to spend this week with them. Secluded with nothing to do but be together. It had been Jin who had suggested it, finding out that you had the same week free. What better way to spend it then with your boyfriends? Agreement coming from his younger members instantly and to your surprise, the staff was quick to agree as well. 

Most times riddled a distraction, but it seemed that you being here sort of fit the relaxation, recharging theme of this entire trip. Zero complaints from you, of course, you were packing your bags the moment you got the green light.

“I'll make you a plate, wait.”

All of a sudden remembering he had been in the middle of doing something before seeing you. Quick steps are taken into the house with the pot in hand and you're right behind him, marveling at the huge land they had rented out for this. All of the greens of the mountains and grass was a pretty contrast to the bright blue sky, the sparkling lake that you couldn't wait to try out.

And there was so much stuff! Placed all over the place from where you can see, each item matching a different member's personality so well that you could guess who asked for what. 

Joon is coming back, hands-free, but only to grab your suitcase, wheeling it into the house. He's gone talking to whoever is in the kitchen before he's returning, arm easily wrapping around your waist as he leads you down the hill.

“You came here looking refreshed,” He notes, finally saying out loud what he had been thinking since you were pulling the suitcase from the car.

Out of all of them, Namjoon seemed to pay a lot of attention to the way you looked. And no, not just the clothes you wore and how they fit – but like deeper. He paid a lot of attention to your facial expressions more than anything, reading your demeanor as if it was his latest page-turner.

A blessing and a curse, because although he knew when something was bothering you and tried his best to fix it without you saying a word. It was also really, extremely hard to hide things for him. Not that you tried to often.

“It was a nice drive and I'm excited to spend time with you guys,” The smile that takes over your features is causing a flutter in his heart, his large hand landing on your arm that you've wrapped around his torso – walking the rest of the way like that.

Jimin is whipping around at the sound of footsteps approaching, and you're eyes are widening at the sight of him. Unwrapping yourself from Joon's body, you're rushing the rest of your steps hands outstretched to touch the edge of the gat hanging from his neck.

“You actually wore it?” Speaking through a slight giggle and he's grinning, hands finding home on your torso as he playfully rolls his eyes. “Of course I wore it, so you better deliver,”

The result of a drunk game of Truth or Dare between the two of you. He spent the entire night choosing truth, but as soon as he was picking dare you were telling him to wear his new hanbok for the first day of shooting. He was agreeing with a roll of his eyes, boasting about how easy it was.

Then on your turn, he was hitting you with that sly grin of his. 'If I wear my hanbok for shooting, then you need to let me...' Words trailing off as he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows in your direction. You were quick to put two and two together of what he wanted. And you were agreeing because of course, you wanted it too.

With a distracted nod, your eyes are shifting to the moving figure behind him. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” Breaking from his grasp just as Namjoon is extending the full bowl in your direction.

You thank him with a wide smile, which he acknowledges with a short nod – going back to cleaning up while you take a seat at the table. Sat eating the food that you can tell was made by Jungkook as you watch your two men move around the yard until Joon is disappearing into the house again. Someone else exiting at the same time.

“I thought I heard your voice!” There's a smile in his voice that you can detect without having to listen very hard. And you're proven right as you lift your head, being met with Hoseok's bright smile. “When'd you get here?” He wonders once he's closer, taking the empty spot beside you.

“Not too long ago,” You speak through the mouthful of food in your mouth, the words you're speaking coming out a murmured mess. 

The smile on Hoseok's face only grows, his hand lifting to push his hair back on his forehead. “I missed you.” A random confession that has heat rising in your cheeks. He always did this. Knew what a few simple words did to your mind and took pleasure in making you flustered whenever possible.

This time was no different. Just three words and you were forced to put extra focus on your noodles. He missed you. Obviously, you missed him – that's a given. But the fact that he, Jung Hoseok actually missed you and was just telling you about it casually. With that smile on his face. Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I missed you too.” A delayed reply, but he's not faltering. Doesn't even think twice about what you could have been thinking about in the time it took you to answer. Instead, he's reaching his arm to wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body into his so he's able to press a dozen chaste kisses to the top of your head.

And then just like that, he's releasing you. Not even giving you a moment to react before he's standing from his spot beside you and moving to help Jimin clean up the outside area.

After the third time, you're asked to scoot over, you're standing feeling as though you're in the way of the cleaning. So, you go to find the others that you haven't seen yet. Thanks to a FaceTime call from Jungkook while they were going through the tour, you had a pretty good understanding of the layout of this place.

Heading over the hill to the Upper House, bowl in hand. And you're grinning when you spot Jin standing out front, staring at the line of delivered groceries in front of him. “Jinnie!” You're calling with a wave of your hand, and he's turning around.

“Yn!” He calls, just as loud – waving you over with one frantic hand.

Easily speeding up your footsteps, it's not long before you're standing in front of him. Arms wrapped around his torso in a tight hug. “What are you doing?” He's out of your hold now, bending to lift the bags off the ground.

“Putting groceries away.”

Following behind him, you shovel mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth while sinking down at the island. For a little while, you're able to enjoy your meal and engage in broken chatter was Jin moves in and out of the house.

He's filling you in on all the plans he has for this trip and the things he's excited about and you listen with a smile on your face. Loving the way he looks when he's completely in his element, eyes sparkling as he talks about being able to fish with Yoongi.

Speaking of Yoongi. Sauntering out from God knows where, white tee hanging loose – revealing a bit of his chest, baggy black jeans that you've now decided is the only thing you ever want to see him in. His hair is unkempt, laying messily over his forehead and only slightly covering his eyes.

There's a smirk on his face when he notices the blatant way you're gawking at him, sinking into the seat beside you – his cold hand not hesitating to reach for your thigh. “You're here?” He speaks in the bored uninterested drawl that you've become used to. Use to read too much into it before you were realizing that just the way he talked.

Now it had the ability to have heat rushing through your veins, especially if he was using that voice when telling you just exactly he wanted to do to you. Never failed to have you basically salivating, putty for him.

“I just came...” The patterns he draws on your inner thigh stills as he lifts his eyes to look at you, a chuckle falling from his lips. “Did you?” He asks teasingly and you're too dazed to pick up on the double meaning of your words.

His hand inches further up your thigh until the tips of his fingers are just inches from reaching the hem of your mesh shorts. Without a thought, your legs are opening for him – giving him as much room as he needs to do whatever he wants.

Yoongi's grinning at your compliance, his lips are just inches for yours. He takes a moment to study your features. Lips shiny with grease, cheeks slightly flushed, eyes staring unfocused. A slow grin lifts the corners of his lips moments before he's leaning in closer.

Yoongi kisses you once as if he's testing the waters before diving in. Grip tightening on your thigh, pulling your body closer to his while he slowly moves his mouth over yours. Soft tongue slowly tracing over your lower lip and you're instantly opening up for him.

The groan that leaves his lips from the feeling of your wet muscles meeting as arousal rushing through your veins and pooling between your legs, fingers reaching to grasp the rough material of his pants for some type of grounding.

And he grins, teeth gently tugging at your lower lip as his hand slides up your thigh toward your waist. So sure he's fingers are about to sneak underneath your shirt, so you giddily wait for the contact. 

But it never comes. "Would you let the girl breathe, she just got here." Is what you hear.

Jimin, into the Upper House to change into something comfortable. And all too ready to scold his Hyung for trying something with you when it hasn't even been an hour. With a roll of those dark eyes of his, Yoongi is leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips – much different from what he had initially planned.

Moment ruined, he's standing from his spot beside you. “I'm gonna go help Jin,” He announces to no one in particular, cheeks darkened with pink from having been caught. Yoongi talked a big game, but he was the most private out of the boys. Wasn't one for an unwarranted audience and preferred to have you to himself rather than sharing you.

“Tae's washing dishes if you're done with that.” He's jutting his chin out to point at your empty bowl on the island. As he speaks, he undoes the tie of his top letting it sag at his shoulders before he's shrugging it off. And you watch his fingers carefully, allowing your mind to wander to just how skilled he was with those fingers.

Playing the same notes for the past eight years on the piano wasn't the only thing he was good at. It's a moment before you register his words enough to stand to your feet, plucking your plate up and exiting the Upper House to find Taehyung.

Back to you as he scrubs the inside of the bowl, you watch as his hips sway to whatever song he's got going in his head. No idea that you're entering the kitchen or that you've arrived – just in his own world.

Taehyung looks handsome even from the back. 

His broad shoulders were still visible underneath the brown top that was just so him. He wore a pair of olive green shorts, giving you a perfect view of his strong legs and the way they flexed with the movement of his feet. Thoroughly riled up from Yoongi's interrupted touches from before, you're struck with a very mischievous thought.

Light steps are taken in Taehyung's direction, quickly setting your bowl in the sink before reaching your arms to wrap around his waist. Palms sneaking underneath the fabric of his shirt so you're able to touch his soft belly. You feel him still against you, taking a moment to put together that it's you back hugging him like this.

He's turning just enough so he can look down at you, a large smile spread across his lips as his eyes take in your face that looks brighter for some reason. “How long have you been there?” Tae tries to hug you back but gives up because of the awkward position.

“Not long,” You answer, nose pressed in the dip of his back after he's turned. Your lips place soft kisses against his covered back, the tips of his fingers brushing over the skin of his stomach. “I missed you.”

And you had. There was just something about Taehyung that drove you crazy with little to no effort. Had to be his aura. The way he carried himself. The unreadable expression that always decorated his features. How he was able to smile with his entire face, pulling large smiles on the lips of the people around him.

All of that and the simple fact of how well the boy could fuck. Of course, all of the guys knew how you make you feel good. All in their own ways, different and unique and still good. But Taehyung. Fuck, Kim Taehyung. A living Sex God, with a thick long cock that he knew how to use. Long fingers that could bring you to climax over and over again with very little time in between. And that mouth. God, that mouth. 

Porn stars would blush at the dirty things that came out of that boy's mouth.

Taehyung's eyebrow is lifting at the mindless way your fingers are dipping lower down his body, flinching just slightly when the tips of your fingers are grazing his quickly hardening cock. “That type of missed me, huh?” He's grinning, you can tell without having to see his face.

Head nodding slightly, you continue placing gentle kisses against his back – fingers drawing teasing lines over his cock through the fabric of his shorts. “Don't be a tease,” He hisses.

His wet, glove covered hand is wrapping around your wrist – forcing more of his cock underneath your palm. A soft moan falls from your lips at the feeling of it twitching with the new friction. Tae's hips rock slowly with the movement of your hand, half of his attention still on the dishes he washes.

And you pout. Want to turn his mind to mush like he's done to you many times before. Until the only thing he can think about is you and how you're making him feel. Fuck the dishes.

Even on your tiptoes, you're only able to reach the nape of his neck. But it's the first bit of bare skin you're able to press your lips against so you settle for it. Leaving open mouth kisses on it while your fingers slowly make their way underneath the waistband of his shorts.

Pleased to find he had decided to forego underwear, you're instantly met with the warmth of his shaft. A low cruse falling from his lips when your cool palm is wrapping around him. And you hold it there. Waiting to hear the scoff that falls from his lips as he starts to rock his hips again – his cock sliding through your grip easily.

The sound of his breathy groans fills the kitchen, egging you on. You can feel him growing harder in your hand and the slow drag of his hips is quickly driving you crazy until you're giving in to the tiny game you were playing and moving your hand.

“Oh, fuck.” Tae hisses, the dish he had been holding crashing into the sink as his fists reach to grip the edge of the sink. Voice gruff and it's usual deep, it has a wash of arousal flooding your body and fueling your movements. Free hand lifting to grasp his hipbone, holding him steady as you bring your hand up toward his tip.

A simple swipe of your thumb over his bulbous has a shiver running down his spine and a grin pulling on your lips. Strokes on his shaft speeding up as the sound of his breathy groans tickled your ears. Hips stuttering underneath your grasp in an attempt to take more than what you were willing to give him.

Always so greedy.

“Does it feel good?” Voice hushed where he can just barely hear.

Taehyung is quick to nod his head, though. “Your hand feels so good on me, Yn. Faster,” He whines, something that you're not quite used to hearing from him. Especially over a simple handjob.

He must've missed you a lot more than he was willing to admit.

And because your soul purpose is to give Taehyung any and everything he asks for, you're rubbing down on him quicker, squeezing him a bit harder. His cock twitches and jumps in your hold and you're fastened by the effect you have on him that your grip on his hip is loosening – allowing him to freely roll his hips upward.

A strong arm is reaching back while his body twists, large glove covered hand tangled in your hair to hold your head steady. For the first time, you're getting a good look at his face. Eyes blown and unfocused, his cheeks flushed and lips bitten. He looks so sexy staring at you as if it's taking all his restraint not to devour you.

The way he leans in, crashing his lips into yours for a sloppy hungry kiss only validates your thoughts. Grip tightening in your hair to hold your head still while his tongue tickles the roof of your mouth.

You try, desperately, to keep your focus on the movement of your hand. Letting him lick into your mouth and kissing him just as much as you can without completely losing your mind. Taehyung, like his six other teammates, worked really well with his mouth. In all ways.

He's nibbling on your lower lip, harsh breaths exiting his nostrils as your thumb runs over the underside of his cock. So close and you can tell from the now frantic roll of his hips. And you're more than ready to bring him there, loved watching him fall apart for you, because of you.

More than ready to have him explode in your palm so you can like it up when the sharp knock on the glass behind you is stilling your movements. Head turning to peak behind you, but Taehyung does stop his head tilting so he's able to suck wet hickeys into your warm skin.

Hoseok stands on the other side of the door, looking extremely impatient. You move to pull your hand from his pants, but Taehyung is quick to grasp your wrist. “Yn, I swear to God.” He speaks through gritted teeth and you're flashing a bright smile up at him.

“It's Hobi,” There's another knock on the glass, “He can't just stand out there,” Laughing, you manage to wiggle yourself out of Taehyung's grasp. He watches you with squinted eyes as you pull the door open for his Hyung.

Cued in on what had been keeping you, a teasing smirk plays on his lips. “What? You're just in here giving Taehyungie all the attention?” Both hands knit into your hair from underneath, slowly closing the space between you two.

“He's working hard in here,” You defend with a slight pout. Upon realizing he wasn't going to be getting off any time soon, Tae turns his attention back to the dishes. Scrubbing the gunk off with much for strength than needed, quiet grumbles leaving his lips.

“I worked hard too, cleaned up outside all by myself. What do I get?” Lips a mere inches from yours, all you'd have to do was lift up onto your tiptoes to feel their softness. “I saw Jiminie helping you.”

Hoseok is rolling his eyes at the slight detail. You're teasing him, he can tell from the way you're gripping his shirt in your fists. Like you're desperate to feel him but at the same time seeing how much you can hold back.

What you failed to realize was, he was much better at teasing than you. Without a second thought, he's leaning down to press his lips against yours. Kiss much different from Taehyung's. More controlled. More intense. Strong hands reach for your thighs, easily lifting your body off of the floor and setting you to sit on the countertop.

He's taking up space between your legs, large hands set on your thighs while he sucks your lower lip into his mouth. You can feel the smirk that plays on his lips from the sound of your moan. 

Hoseok responds by reaching back to give your ass a firm squeeze, pulling your body toward his. He's hard. You can feel it through the fabric of his neon shorts, but the moment you're angling your hips to feel more of him – he's pulling back. 

“Jimin should finish up, hm?” Recalling your earlier comment with a teasing glint in his eye. Planting a soft kiss to your lips, he backs away attention now on Namjoon who had entered with a bag of groceries. As if nothing had happened.

Body buzzing and senses fogged, you're left to wonder just how many times you'd be denied the release you craved.

The two men chatted amongst each other mindlessly, surveying the contents of the fully stalked fridge in front of them. Joon is pulling a bottle of coffee from the bunch, handing it over to you with a soft smile before twisting the cap on his own. You watch as he wraps his plump lips around the edge, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the liquid down.

Plopping down on the soft red cushion, you watch as Joon moves to offer Tae a sip of his drink. Which he's denying with a pout of his lips. From where you're sitting, you can see that his bulge has gone down a bit – but the foggy need for sexual release stays. You know the feeling. Had half the mind to get on your knees for him right then and there, not like either of them would complain.

They did share you, at times. And those were the times that you secretly hoped for each time you were being interrupted with one of them. But, all of them were so different from their interests and really liked the idea of being alone with you – it didn't happen as often as you'd like.

You could simply suggest it and no doubt they'd agree to the idea. Ready to do whatever you asked to fill your desire. But you liked the surprise of not knowing just when you'd be taking two cocks, or three, or maybe even four. All seven if the weather was right. The suspense had a great effect on you.

Jimin is entering the main house just as halfway through drinking your chilled coffee. Fully changed out of his hanbok, standing in a pair of loose-fitting black shorts and a white SAINT LAURENT tee. Dark hair floppy messily at the top of his head, evident that he's been running his fingers through it.

He looked good enough to eat and if he kept looking at you with those bedroom eyes, you were about to do just that. Beeline made in your direction, settling in the spot beside you. An innocent hand lands on your thigh and your brain short circuits, registering it as anything but.

Without a word, he's reaching for your bottle, taking a long sip from it before licking the drip from his lips. “Where's Kookie?” You ask, forcing your thoughts not to wander too much. And realizing you had yet to see that bunny smile of his, hear the cute way he say's 'Noona' as he wobbles in your direction.

The same age as Namjoon which made you older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook – yet Jungkook was the only one out of the three that actually referred to you as Noona. No matter how many times you'd tell him to speak comfortably with you, he'd refuse with blushed and a shake of his head.

The others believed he got off on it, the subtle reminder that you were older than him but he was still able to turn you to make you fall apart with the simple flex of his thigh. “You haven't seen him?” Hoseok speaks with his head inches deep in the fridge and you shake your head despite the fact he cannot see you.

“He’ll come running the moment he hears you're here,” Deciding that your drink is his now, Jimin stands from his spot beside you heading further into the house. Steps cut off by Jungkook turning the corner, as if on cue.

“What!?” A large grin on his lips as his sparkling eyes land on you. Soft hair bouncing as he skips over to you, leaning over the counter so you're face to face. Tattooed hand reaching forward to enclose the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your foreheads are touching. “You didn't tell me you were here, Noona.” Eyebrow arched and head tilted to the side.

You can barely see his face with how close you are to it, but there's no doubt that he looks attractive as hell right now in his attempt to be intimidating. Lower lip poking out in a slight plea, “I'm sorry, baby. I was asking about you, though.”

Jungkook only half listens to your words. Some space put between you and he takes advantage of that by allowing his eyes to take in your appearance greedily. Aware of the warmer temperature, you had decided a simple v-neck crop top would suffice. From this angle, he could see straight down your top. And he was doing very little to hide the fact that he was looking, respectfully.

“I'm sure you can think of some ways to make it up to me. Right, Noona?” Hand slipping from the back of your neck, the tips of his fingers brushing over the collar of your shirt. Lips suddenly dry, your tongue is jutting out to wet them. Thighs squeeze together instinctively at the promise his words held.

A contrast to his demeanor, Jungkook is placing a sweet kiss on your lips. One that lingers for a second shorter than you want, but the small smile on his lips upon pulling away is enough to make your heart melt.

All at once, he's releasing you and moving on to follow Jimin out of the kitchen. Taehyung is finishing up he dishes at the same moment, shaking his hands of the water droplets before wiping the excess onto his shorts.

Alone in the room with him again and you feel the atmosphere shift as soon as his eyes settle on you. Finally able to get a good look at you and taking in just how short your shorts are and how thin the material of your top is. But Taehyung is a gentleman when he wants to be. 

His hand rests on your back, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bare skin your shirt leaves exposed. “Want to go for a walk?” Teeth biting into his plump lower lip. Instantly, you're sliding from your seat head nodding at his words.

Taehyung's arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body into his chest and you just faintly see the grin on his face before you're being enveloped in his sweet scent. Guided steps are taken into the game room where Namjoon sits, a laugh leaving his lips at the weird way the two of you are walking.

“What are you making?”

“A boat,” Joon says with a wide smile, lifting the plastic boat to show you. Cutie. Impatient, Taehyung is pushing his hips forward into yours. Even through the layers and with the small fact that he's not exactly hard at the moment – you can still feel his bulge against your ass cheek.

But he doesn't stop there, slowly dragging his hips up so you can feel his entire length. A strangled gasp is leaving your lips that has Taehyung smirking, Namjoon too focused on whether or not he just broke his model, doesn't notice.

Arms tightening around your waist, Taehyung takes a step forward – urging you to do the same.

When Tae said he wanted to take you on a walk, he wasn't speaking in sexual innuendos. You had actually gone for a walk around the land. Hand in hand making comfortable chatter as you soaked in the nice weather.

Somehow, you managed to convince yourself that he hadn't been itching to get you alone to fuck you – but really just wanted to spend some time alone with you. It's sweet when you think about it. The gentle way he's talking to you about the nervousness that surrounds working on his new mixtape. His soft thumb brushing over your knuckles as you assure him that everything will turn out alright.

It's not until you're reaching the picnic table just a few feet from the water, is he wrapping his arm around your hips. Lifting you from the ground as if you weighed nothing and setting you down on the table.

Blunt nails lightly dragging over the back of your knees as he gently spreads your legs so he's able to stand in the middle of them. He's easily hooking your legs around his waist, ankles instantly locking to pull him closer to you. “You know what I want to do right now?” 

“What?” You humor him, even though you could probably guess. Arms lifting to wrap around his neck, head tilting to the side as a slight smirk plays on your lips. His mouth hovers over your ear, wet brushing over the shell of it as he speaks.

“Wanna taste that sweet little cunt. Bet you're already soaked from all the attention you've been getting.” To prove his point, Tae's fingers trail up between your thighs. Your body shudders as he drags a single digit over your slit through the fabric.

He wasn't wrong, had started to feel the heat pool between your legs when Yoongi first kissed you. Mind driving you insane with being able to be with them for this entire week. All of them. It was safe to say it had gotten to you in a very obvious way.

Not one to tease, Taehyung is using his long fingers to push both your shorts and panties to the side so his fingers can press against your bare skin. A surprised gasp leaving your lips with the nudge on your clit, hips bowing toward him. He grins.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?” He's a little breathless, but his fingers never falter. A single digit slipping past your folds and pushing through your walls. “Shit.” He chuckles at the enthusiastic way you nod your hand, tongue rolling over his lips before biting down. “Yeah? Gonna cum all sloppy on my tongue, baby? Let me hear you.”

At the end of his words, his thumb is pressing into your clit, rolling it around lazily as his finger moves slowly inside of you. “Y-yes-” Words breaking on a loud whine, he slows his fingers – waiting. “Wanna cum on your tongue, Tae... p-please.” Hips lifting to rock into his hand but he's pulling back, leaving you feeling empty.

It doesn't last long because he's quick with lifting your leg. Fingers wet with your arousal and wrapped around your thigh, bringing it up to his shoulder. Tae lowers himself to his knees in front of you, at the same time pushing the useless material aside before diving in.

Taehyung watches you through his long eyelashes while dragging his tongue along your folds. Always loved the way you looked when he was between your legs. The way you tried to keep your eyes open to watch him, biting your lip in an attempt to keep quiet, fingers tangling in his hair – holding him close. Hot.

Tongue dragging up to flick against your clit, Taehyung reaches for your other ankle. Lifting your leg over his shoulder so he's completely enclosed by your legs. Plush lips wrap around your bundle of nerves, sucking gently while he's pushing two fingers past your walls. 

“Oh! Tae, fuck...” Panting at this point, grip in his hair used to pull him tighter against you. His free hand reaching around to sneak underneath the hem of your shorts, palming your ass while pulling you closer. Fingers angled to brush against the sweet spot inside of you, loving the way you squirm underneath him.

Just faintly, you can see the outline of his hard cock through his shorts. Straining against the fabric begging for some attention. Having you spread out for him, hearing those pretty moans fall from your lips is enough to drive anyone mad. And it doesn't help that Tae's been waiting for this for weeks.

Sharp teeth nip at your clit just as he's pushing another finger inside of you. “Taehyung!” You're crying out, in half pleasure – but also a warning. If he continued like this you'd be cumming before even getting to feel him inside of you.

“Close, baby?” His words are delivered into your throbbing cunt, sending vibrations through your body that has your back arching. Fingers tightening in his hair as you grind your hips desperately into him.

So close you can practically taste it, no longer able to worry about not being able to feel him. Just chasing your release. A breathy chant of 'keep going' falling from your lips as you hold his head in place.

Heat spreads throughout your body, a dull ache starting in your core and spreading throughout your body. Walls clenched so tight around his fingers that it's almost hard for him to pull back, so he doesn't, instead pushes deeper – pressing all three fingers against your sweet spot. In that exact moment, his lips are wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly and you feel the band snap.

Body tightening and legs shaking as incoherent curses fall from your lips. Taehyung watches your pretty eyes roll back, head tipping too. And once he's sure you're at the peak of your climax, he's pulling his fingers from inside of you and standing to his feet. Quick with fishing his cock from inside his shorts, you just barely notice the absence before you're being filled again.

A drawn-out whine falls from your lips at the new stretch, a thick groan from his from the tight squeeze. The wetness from your release makes it easy for him to move, though and he's thankful – too eager to wait longer than a few seconds to have you.

Your fingers struggle to find something to grasp as he ruts against you in an almost brutal pace. Each snap of his hips pushing your body further up on the table, only for him to drag you back down toward him. Loud cries and incoherent sentences fall from your lips that you're sure anyone in a 50-mile radius could put together what the two of you are doing.

Taehyung loves it, though. It's like fuel to his ever-growing ego. Chants of his name falling from your pretty lips, nails clutching at the fabric of his shirt as you beg for him. Just the knowledge he's able to make someone like you, like this. Yeah, he loves it.

“Fuck. This greedy little cunt,” He nearly grunts, eyes flashing up to take in your fucked out expression. His thumb is easily finding your clit through the wet mess between your legs, rubbing it slowly. “You wanna cum again? All over my cock this time?”

A frantic bob of your head and a whiny 'please' is prompting him to reach for your hips. Easily, he's lifting your body from the table, securing your legs around his waist. His hips rut against yours with much more fervor in this standing position. And you attempt to meet his thrusts but you're so delirious that all you can manage is a lazy bounce.

Arms wrapped around his neck and face buried in the crook of his neck, your walls squeeze around him as you feel the pressure build in your stomach again. Sloppy, wet kisses sucked into his skin. Teeth scraping against the tanned flesh before you're crying out your orgasm, body shaking in his arms.

You're positive if it weren't for the rough grip he has on your ass, you'd be sprawled out on the floor from the power of it. Taehyung fucks you through the entire thing, not slowing down until he feels his own release approaching, just second after yours. Thighs tightening and thrust becoming sloppy while he pulls your body down tighter against his.

The feeling of his thick ropes of cum coating your insides has your senses waking up, that paired with the slow drag of his cock inside of you has your legs stiffening again. Hips rocking slowly against his as another tiny orgasm washes over you. So small Taehyung wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been paying attention – but of course, he was.

“Did you just cum again?” He says with a laugh, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Lips sucked into your mouth to hide the sheepish grin that fought to take over your features. “It felt good... you cumming, inside.”

A triumphant grin takes over his features and he's leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Let's keep it in then,” He's mumbling against your mouth and you're not sure what he means until he's pulling out – fingers quick to meet your entrance, pushing his cum back inside of you.

Body twitching with overstimulation, but you let him stuff you with his cum, not able to deny how hot it was. Especially the look of concentration on his face, careful not to miss a drop. Once he's satisfied, he's secured your shorts back in place patting his hand over your crotch playfully.

“You better keep it in there, too. Gonna fuck it out of you later,” He promises with a large grin, head tilting up to nibble at your jaw. He's got one hand resting on the curve of your ass, the other gripping your thigh. Zero plans to put you down any time soon, loving the way you're wrapped around him.

He'd stay like this with you forever if he wasn't for the distance shout he's hearing from the main house. Trying to ignore it and praying that you don't hear it, but as it grows louder your ears are perking up.

“Taehyung-ah!” It's Namjoon's voice and you're immediately pulling back when you register it. “Think Joon is looking for us,” You say through a giggle, the kisses he's leaving on your skin starting to tickle.

“He'll give up.” Tae murmurs, trailing a wet line of kisses down the length of your neck. And you almost agree with him, but you hear Namjoon call again and figure it would be best to just go see what he wants. So, despite Taehyung's reluctance, you're unwrapping your legs from around him.

“Or we can go see what's up.” Taehyung's changing his tune once he's realizing you weren't going to change yours.

His arm is easily sliding around your waist, pulling your body into his as the two of you make your way back into the main house. It's a little weird walking with his cum stuffed inside of you. Like a subtle heaviness between your legs that you just barely go without noticing. And if you moved too fast you could feel a bit of it start to trickle out, forcing you to pay much more attention to your movements than usual.

When the two of you are reaching the sliding door, it's locked. Your other six men are sat in the room, snickers falling from their lips with one look at your frazzled state and the fact that you're locked out.

“Ooh, what were you guys doing out there?” You can hear Hoseok's teasing tone through the glass. As if it weren't obvious. As if they didn't hear what you guys were doing out there.

Taehyung doesn't miss a beat, hand dropping down to grasp your ass. “Stuffed her full of my cum.” He says with a wide grin that has hollers of amusement falling from their lips. “Tae!” You're gasping, face heating up as you lift your arm to punch at his shoulder.

“What it's true?” Sparkling eyes turned to you, lips shaped in a soft pout that you'd lean up and kiss if you weren't sure it'd have a glob of his cum rolling down your leg.

Namjoon, your perfect little angel, is the one to pull the door open. And you're thanking him as you walk past, carefully taking the vacant spot beside Jungkook. “Do you really have cum in you, Noona?” He wonders. Eyes dark while a curious hand reaches to brush over the waistband of your shorts.

“Only a little bit,” Fingers lifting to just barely pinch your fingers together to show him. “Prove it,” He says with a tad bit of playfulness in his tone, tugging at your shorts just slightly. 

You have half the mind to do just that. The thought lingering in your mind long enough for both Hoseok and Yoongi to notice. Intrigued, Hobi waits to see if you'll actually do it – but Yoongi speaks up before the tension can grow any thicker.

“We're choosing rooms,” Changing the subject completely acting as if an eight-way orgy wasn't just on the table. “Oh, right!” Joon, who had been subtly watching to see if you take Kook's dare is all of a sudden the reason he had gathered everyone.

A few moments are granted for conversation to bounce around the room, choosing where they'll sleep for the next seven days. And once they've settled their arrangements, attention is back on you – but for an entirely different reason now.

“Noona can share the floating house with me,” Jungkook is saying with a wide grin, keying you in on the fact that this conversation had been going on a bit longer than you had been paying attention.

With a quick nod of your head, you're assuring the young boy that you'll share the room with him. “I figured I'd just bounce around? If you guys don't care.” Much easier that way, whoever wanted you to spend the night in the room – you would. But to keep things tidy, you'd keep your stuff in the floating house with Jungkook.

“Of course we don't care-” Jin starts, but his words are being cut off by Taehyung's haste. “My room first!” Hand raised in a cute schoolboy raised, the look that he pins you with washes all remnants of the word cute out of your mind, though. 

With a thick roll of his eyes, Namjoon's standing. “If she wants to. You choose, baby.” His attention now on you and the pet name has shivers running down your spine. There was just something about the way Joon called you 'baby' that had you keening.

He doesn't act on it, though. Not right now. And neither do you. One by one, they each break off to do their own thing until dinner time. You find yourself following Jin out to the dock after hearing he was going to fish for a little bit. You had gone on quite a few fishing trips with him, never did it but liked to keep him company when he went.

It's hard to ignore how at ease you feel here, with them. Not a single worry in mind in this secluded spot with your favorite guys. Where they're able to be themselves and be with you and be happy. Thankful that you were able to join them. And so ready to be apart of the memories this next week holds.

No matter how sticky.

- seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.

masterlist ⤐

⇝ taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hehehehahahohohuhu @sw33tnight @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @soulstaes @bangtansonyeondayyyum @samros95 @korkanswers @houseofarmanto @marifujioka @tae165 @uxwi @jinhitwhore @preciouschimine @yeontanie21 @aa-ronpa @taefect94 @lee-karliah @codeinebelle @mochibabycakes @diminieshoe @fuddyize  @soloikeadates @0xmysticx0 @bbyjoonies @amoreguk @tricethecharm @diminieshoe @jayyayyy17 @softlyjins @bangtan-noona @fan-ati--c @fuck-expectations-people @paradisetaemin @nyamjinnie @lilacdreams-00 @vsugakookie0104 @koostime @la-evforia @betysotelo18 @chocobetterknot @simplysanha @delicategukkie @kookieswithtaeq @jeon-ggukkie @angjeon @bangtansbun @flamboyant-louie @elliemeetsevil @angiexyoung @stonyiscanon @strawberryforever25 @mipetronella @rageyoudamnednerd @hellotherehoneybee @joonies-babyy @mypurplelamp @jikooksgirl19 @sushi-date-ghost​ @bigimpression​ @kookiesjoonies​ @amour-quinn​ @diamonddia-mond​ @alterlovess​ @gemad08​ @daydreambrliever​ @acc3ssdenied​ @silentlyimpractical​ @bella-victoria002​ @ashleyjoyx​ @yoooonie​ @diamonddia-mond​ @btsbed​ @sungieshines​ @thia-aep​ @taeshuworld​ @hopiebabie​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @illwritetomorrow​ @kookoo-kachoo​ @prettxyliies​ @triviasjms​ @ratking101​ @elephantdoors​ @feel-like-gold​ @kelitt​ @itsponybeaches​ @alpaca1612​ @jeonkookiebangtan​ @rather-not-sayy​ @kimsouthjoon​ @beeeb05​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @yoongiverse​

[linorachas]

sunday's best. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff and smut ⁍ word count — 11.2k words ⁍ details — established relationship, domesticity, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing (again), you're both really in love (again), hard smut | details under the cut ⁍ notes — part 2 of for the weekend is here! thank you so much to everyone who supported part 1 and asked for more. it gave me so much motivation to start and finish this one and i maaay have gotten a little bit carried away considering it's almost triple the size. and the smut... yea.... this could be read as a one-shot, but there’s a lot of elements from pt. 1 that i referenced in here, so please check that one out first! and also please please lmk if you enjoyed! ♥️  ⁍ summary ��  Day 2. Holding up your end of the deal, strawberry ice cream, and Ugly Cat bowls.

⁍ smut specifics — dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, one mention of the word "daddy", possessiveness on chan’s part (but not the asshole kind), a smidge of oral (f. receiving), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, choking (but not really? just hand on throat), reader talks about liking the pain a lot, dry humping, slightest bit of cum play ⁍ little side note — please practice safe sex u guys. wrap it up. these guys are not good role models at all. be safe. also always pee after sex. plz. also this isn't proofread god bless

Saturday, 3:20 pm

“Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

You hold your breath, stunned at the determination in Chan’s eyes. You’re distracted at the way his lips curl and at how his dimples pop out, your eyes following the line of his broad shoulders. You eye the ridges of his arms, down to the veins in his hands, parched throat swallowing when you get to his defined abs.

God, he was sexy.

You follow his happy trail, down and down until-- ah. Right. He was still naked. In the kitchen.

Your face scrunches up comically, desire disappearing as you hop off the counter and shoo him away.

“Go get some clothes, what the hell. Do you know how unsanitary it is to be naked in here? Gross, Chan.”

Staring at you in disbelief, Chan gapes, “after you just blatantly checked me out? I saw that!”

You walk past him, rummaging through the cupboards for food. “Unless you want me to come near you with a pair of scissors close to your-”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Chan shouts, as he rushes back to the bedroom, the panic in his voice making you laugh.

You’re just starting to fill up a pot with water when arms sneak around your waist and a very clingy but now fully dressed Bang Chan nuzzles his face into your neck, humming.

“What do you want me to cook for you, baby?” He asks excitedly, ready to do anything.

You snort. “Unless you can magically conjure up some groceries, I don’t think you can cook me anything at all.”

Chan freezes at that, releasing his hold on you so he could open the refrigerator and cupboards, mouth dropping in shock when he sees that there really was no food. You’ve both been so busy this week, spending most of your meals at that company, that you both probably forgot to do mini-grocery runs.

“Though we do have like, 4 packs of ramen left and half a can of spam.” You call Chan’s attention back to you, gesturing towards the food on the counter. Chan, the big eater that he was, deflates at the sight, looking exactly like a kicked puppy.

“Aw, I know that’s not enough for you, baby.” You coo, shuffling over to Chan to pinch his cheek. It starts gentle at first, but then you put a bit of pressure, narrowing your eyes. “But if you eat more than your share, I’m biting you.”

Chan yelps, nodding rapidly as your pinch his cheek harder, “okay! Okay! I won’t steal from your share, I promise, baby- ow!”

You relent soon after, pressing a sweet kiss to Chan’s reddened cheek as he scowls at you. “Good. Now let’s get cooking, because if I don’t have food in me in the next 3 minutes I really might start biting you.”

Chan jumps out of your reach at that, and you watch him with a smile as he bustles around to prepare your food. You get a bowl each after it cooks, perfectly equal in portion size. There aren’t any words being shared as you both settle on the couch, your thighs pressed together as you slurp on your noodles, putting on a drama you were both invested in. Chan doesn’t notice when you slip your one last remaining piece of spam into his bowl, too busy berating a main character for being stupid, but he does let you finish off the soup in his bowl.

You and Chan start working on chores after that, because when you were looking for the remote control under the couch, you’re greeted with a cloud of dust, making you sneeze thrice.

Chan laughs at you, but then he’s cut off by his own sneeze too. You share one look before you’re both scrambling towards the cleaning supplies.

It takes you both hours just to clean the whole apartment and do some laundry, the sky already dark when you settle back down on the couch.

Considering you literally had no ingredients to cook with, you decide to order for dinner, and there’s a small dispute as to who has to get up to accept the food and pay the delivery man. The fight is resolved with a quick game of rock, paper, scissors; Chan winning fairly, but you still complain on your way to the door.

“We should work out,” Chan pipes up suddenly when you’re both lying on your sides on the couch, him being the little spoon. Dinner was a quick affair, and now you’re both just basking in the happiness of having a full stomach.

You make a face. “Was that not enough of a workout?” you ask, referring to your spotless apartment.

Chan snorts, turning around so his front was facing you. But he slides down, making a sound akin to purr as he buries his face in your neck. “I mean, like. Yoga. Leg day reps. Jogging?”

You groan, pinching his side. “I dance for a living. You go work out. Let me rot on this couch for tonight.”

Chan laughs at that, but doesn’t pester you about it anymore. You let him rest on your clavicle as you focus on your attention to the drama that was currently airing on the TV, slightly interested now.

You’d have thought Chan was asleep if it wasn’t for the kisses that he presses on your neck, harmless little pecks that soon have a bit of teeth in them. You lean your head back, finding the action more comforting than anything, but then Chan’s tongue suddenly darts out to lick at a spot near your jaw, and you shiver.

You sigh, but you don’t push him away. Instead, your fingers card through his hair, making Chan groan happily. He stops pestering your neck then, enjoying your fingers massaging and scratching at his scalp.

But your first mistake was thinking you were safe, because suddenly, there’s a thigh slipping in between your legs, pressing against your covered mound.

“Ah,” you moan, surprised, but Chan doesn’t do anything else after that, just lets his thigh rest there. You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “I thought you were going to work out.”

“This is my workout.” Chan whispers, and when you feel his devilish smile against your skin, you knew you were doomed.

Chan presses his thigh against your clothed pussy more insistently, making you squirm. The thin material of your panties and sleep shorts barely provided any layers between you, heightening the pleasure.

His thigh flexes, and the feeling of your clit grinding down on the hardened muscle was simply too good to ignore, and you’re humping Chan’s thigh before you could even think twice about it.

“Good girl,” Chan praises when he notices your hips gyrating, leaning up for a second to press a sweet kiss to your lips. He continues to adjust, helping you find the best position for your pleasure. “Keep rubbing that pretty pussy on me, baby, that’s it.”

You moan when a hand slides under your shirt and brushes against one of your nipples, Chan rolling the slowly hardening nub between his fingers. You feel yourself getting wet embarrassingly quick, and you knew you could cum like this. Chan has made you cum multiple times before just from clitoral stimulation alone, and dry humping was no exception to that.

You’re just about to ask if he was really going to let you cum, but then Chan pulls his thigh away, and the knot in your stomach disappears.

You groan for an entirely different reason now, upset at your orgasm being taken away from you. But Chan busies himself with tugging at your shirt until you get the idea and take it off, and he immediately latches his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking.

You suck in a breath through gritted teeth, pressing his head closer to your chest as he paid attention to both your nipples, licking and sucking and biting. You were getting uncomfortably wet now, your panties damp, and you convey this to Chan in hopes that he would speed things up.

You should have known that it would just spur him on.

“You wet for me already?” Chan asks once he stops marking your breasts, facing you with a grin.

You nod rapidly. “Yes, so if you could fuck m-”

“Ah,” Chan tuts, “let me feel first.”

You don’t even get a chance to protest because Chan’s hand is already disappearing, slipping under the waistband of your shorts and panties to slide two of his fingers between your folds. You jolt at the contact, moaning as he uses those two fingers to rub circles on your clit gently.

“Chan,” you moan and he hums distractedly, leaning down to suck more marks on your skin. He slips in a finger without warning, but since you were so wet and ready for him, you took his finger in easily.

Chan curses, testing the waters by slipping in a second finger slowly, and though there was a bit of a sting this time, his second finger slides in just as easily.

“God, baby, you’re soaking.”

Chan crooks his fingers, brushing against your g-spot almost immediately, making you jolt and whine. He picks up the pace, fingers fucking in and out you fast despite your underwear and shorts restricting most of his hand movement.

He comes up for a kiss, your mouth opening automatically for him to slip his tongue in. He groans into your mouth at your obedience, free hand gripping your jaw tight. He sucks on your tongue just as he adds a third finger, and you pull away to hiss.

Chan’s fingers were long and filled you up nicely, and with how he was rubbing at your g-spot insistently, it wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm climbing up again.

“I’m prepping you, but it looks like you don’t need it with how you’re sucking my fingers in, baby.” Chan shakes his head, playful disbelief coloring his tone. “Did you think about my cock in you all day? Wanted me to fuck you that bad?”

“Yeah, yes, I- ah,” you gasp, nodding at his words rapidly. Chan leans in to kiss you again, but you manage to stop him with a shaky hand pressed to his chest, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“You held up your end of the deal,” you whisper, already breathless, “it’s time I hold up mine.”

Chan’s eyes darken, and you squeak when he suddenly sits up on his knees, free hand yanking your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion. He leans back down to get the kiss you stopped at before, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and making you moan.

“But first,” Chan murmurs against your lips, voice leaving no room for discussion. “You cum for me now.”

Now that there was no clothing to restrict his hand movements, the pace of Chan’s fingers picked up faster, driving you crazy and making you squirm on the couch. Chan pins your hips down with his other hand so he could drive his fingers into you easily, and the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting inside your cunt was so lewd you felt yourself blushing.

It only takes a quick brush of Chan’s thumb against your clit to have your body snapping, trembling in Chan’s arms as your hole convulses against his fingers. Chan groans like he was the one having an orgasm, eyes appreciatively staring at the way your head was thrown back, chest heaving up and down.

Chan pulls his fingers out carefully, planning to just wipe them on his shirt, but then you make a noise, catching his attention. He looks up, confused, but then sees the way your gaze was trained on his fingers— which were slicked with your juices— and his cock got so hard, it started to hurt.

“Fuck, you’re filthy.” Chan whispers, but he brings his fingers up to your lips, letting you lick and suck to your heart’s content. Chan swallows as you look up at him through your lashes, cleaning his fingers thoroughly with long swipes of your tongue. For each glimpse he sees of the wet appendage around his finger, his dick jumps in his sweatpants.

You pull off slowly when you finish, eyes still locked with Chan’s. The both of you were breathing hard now, gazes intense as you stared each other down. At first, you felt like both the predator and the prey. Chan could destroy you with his fingers alone if he wanted to, but he was easy to fluster as well.

But then Chan tilts your head up with a single finger, leaning down to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips, a kiss so full of intent, lust and— love, that it leaves you breathless, eyes wide.

Chan lips quirk. “Bedroom?”

Saturday, 10:41 pm.

“Arch for me, baby.” Chan orders, breathless, hand smoothing down your lower back. You were truthfully too weak to hold yourself up already, mind numbed with pleasure, but you do your best, legs shaking with the effort to present yourself. But the pleased grumble that immediately comes out of Chan definitely makes the grueling position worth it.

You were both naked now, having shed Chan’s clothes as soon as you stumbled through the bedroom door, after you spent a good ten minutes just making out against it. Chan had shut the door with a quick kick, carrying you on the way to the bed even though it was only a few steps away.

But you didn’t complain, not when he dropped you in the middle and immediately manhandled you to your hand and knees, tugging your hips close to him with a grunt.

“That’s my good girl,” Chan leans down, whispering the words against the nape of your neck as the tip of his cock slid between your folds.

You start whining, because you were much more exposed in this position and you were being good but Chan wasn’t doing anything about it and you just wanted to be fucked. You convey your displeasure by pushing back against Chan’s cock, trying to get it to slip in you without his help.

“Want it inside, sweetheart? Hm?” Chan mumbles against your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe teasingly. “I can feel your greedy little hole twitching against me. Shit, you want it that bad?”

You nod rapidly, uncaring of how desperate you looked. Mostly because Chan liked that look on you. He liked knowing that you let your guard down around him, that nobody in the world could bring you to your knees and have you begging to be filled like he does.

Chan never explicitly shows how much he likes thinking that you belong to him, because he really does believe you’re your own person and not an object to be owned. But here, like this, with your throbbing pussy against this cock and your teary eyes pitifully looking up at him to do something, anything— it brought out a sense of possessiveness in Chan that he never knew he had.

These were the kind of feelings that only you could bring out of him. You were the only one who ever made him feel like this, and the rush of both excitement and fear over it admittedly has him going crazy at times.

But there’s nothing in the world he loves more than knowing you feel exactly the same.

He sees this in the way you tilt your head up, begging for a kiss. It has him breaking out of character, lips tugging up into a fond smile, since he’d planned to be mean and tease you for a bit. But he doesn’t resist when he leans down to kiss you, not when the urge is so strong. Especially not when your smile against his lips felt like the world’s most addicting drug.

Ah, how lucky was he to have fallen in love with you?

“Channie,” you hiccup once he pulls away, and he presses kisses down your shoulder, hiding a smile. This is why he could never be a hard dom with you. One kiss and he’s weak.

“Mhm, I got it, I got it. Just relax for me, yeah? I’ll fill you up real good, sweetheart. Just relax for me.” Chan soothes, pulling back to sit up on his knees.

He grabs a hold of his cock so he could line it up and push in, but then he can’t stop the groan that comes out his throat when the contact eases the pressure on his cock. He hasn’t been touched since you started, and with how wet you were when he pressed against you, he didn’t even need lube. His hand slid up and down easily.

You bit your lip. You were torn between enjoying the godly image of Chan jerking off to the sight of you bent over for him or finally enjoying the feeling of being filled up. Chan pleasuring himself was always a sight to see, veiny arms flexing every time his hand moved.

His eyes fluttered close, and your eyes greedily followed the line of his jaw and the long column of his throat, mouth dry with how much you wanted to suck marks on it.

But you were once again reminded why you can’t, and you were in this position for a reason.

“My end of the deal,” you start, catching your boyfriend’s attention, “was to let myself be fucked six ways to sunday.”

You pause, your hand sliding behind you to slip your own fingers into your soaking pussy. You moan when one finger slips right in, bright eyes meeting Chan’s dark ones.

“Should I have just done that myself?”

Nothing could have prepared you for the way Chan yanked your finger out, gaze hard as he locked both your arms behind you back. He was only holding your arms back with one of his hands, but the grip felt as tight as a rope.

You shiver in anticipation.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby.” Chan hisses, finally pushing his cock inside, easily slipping in with how wet and stretched you were from his fingers.

He moves slowly, determined to make you feel every inch and ridge and vein of his cock against your clenching walls. You squirm and gasp as he pushes and pushes, filling you up so well until his hips are finally flushed against your ass.

“I’ll fuck you so well you’ll feel it here,” he slides his free hand down to your lower stomach, pressing down until he almost feels his cock bulging in you, “and you’ll feel it until next weekend.”

Then he pulls back and thrusts inside again, this time slamming in hard.

You choke on a breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Chan goes in deep and fast. The position allowed him to reach inside you deeper than ever, and you almost swear you feel him in your stomach.

He finds your g-spot again in no time, knowing your body better than you do. You jerk in his hold when he does and a scream gets stuck in your throat, and the fact that you could feel Chan’s amusement from your reaction just made it even hotter. You had no time to breath from how hard and fast Chan was fucking you, let alone make a sound.

God, you loved it.

It’s what has you cumming in no more than three more thrusts, mouth gaping like a fish out of water as the knot in your stomach finally snapped. Chan seems to have noticed, given that you were clenching around him like crazy, and the laugh he lets out is so attractive that you feel yourself clench again.

“Aww, already, Y/N?” He teases, making you flush. He sounded smug, and you made a mental note to kick him for it later.

And though he seemed to have noticed your orgasm, Chan doesn’t stop. In fact, he shifts his position and somehow finds a way to push himself in deeper, forcefully pushing a long, drawn out moan from your throat. He makes you ride out your orgasm, eyes staring intently at the way his cock slid in out of you, covered in your juices.

“Shit, Channn,” you groan out his name, voice breaking as he continues to drive his cock into you. “I- ah, ah, Channie, please, I can’t-“

“You can,” Chan grunts out simply, as if he knew your core was already tightening for your second orgasm in a row.

You open your mouth again to plead— for him to stop or keep going? you didn’t know— but then Chan slows down, and you finally manage to suck in the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Keeping his cock in you, Chan lets go of your arms, both of his hands now sliding under your torso to pull you up. You gasp at the sudden change in position, now sitting back on your knees as Chan’s arm wrapped snugly around your waist.

“Fuck,” Chan grunts in your ear, inhaling through gritted teeth as he thrusts into you again properly. His fingers trail down your hips and up your stomach, hands brushing up and down your skin like he was mapping it out. It tickled, and with every brush of Chan’s hand against a sensitive part of your body, you clench.

He moans lowly, the sound right by your ear and making you shiver. “You open up so well for me. You always do. So perfect for me, beautiful.”

Chan presses heated kisses on your shoulder, hands now gripping your waist tight so he could position you in a way that was pleasurable for both of you. When Chan’s lips trail higher, you subconsciously bear your neck to him, making him smile.

“Please,” you breathe out, your eyes stinging from the almost painful knot in your stomach, back so soon even though you’ve just calmed down.

“Again.” Chan exhales against your ear, hips picking up that demonic pace again. “Cum for me again.”

You moan, nodding mindlessly as Chan pulls you back onto his cock at the same time he thrusts forward. His big cock fills you up in all the right places, brushing against your sweet spot constantly and driving you crazy each time.

Since you were now being held up by Chan himself, you didn’t know what to do with your hands at this point, nails digging into your palms and creating indents.

But Chan, as attentive as ever even when he’s fucking you into oblivion, notices your hand situation and guides your arms upwards, pushing them back until your hands tangle in his hair instead.

The new position worked well for the both of you, because your back was arched to accommodate your arms, and Chan could drive his cock in that good kind of deep again.

Chan’s grunts by your ear just get you even hotter, along with his hisses every time you clench around him. He murmurs dirty praises in your ear, telling you over and over again how good your cunt felt around him and how you were taking him so well and how he’d love nothing more to be buried in you forever, so you’d never feel empty again.

The last straw is when his free hand comes up to your neck, fingers closing around your jaw so he could tilt your head up. You gasps noisily at that, tugging on his hair in surprise. You and Chan have talked about choking before, and though he wasn’t really cutting off your air, the feeling of his hand around your throat was more than enough to get you locking up around him.

Chan coos, lips brushing against your cheek as he talked you towards your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me feel you cream around my cock again,” he grunts, pushing through the tight vice-like grip your walls had around him, “Come on, gorgeous. Let me feel it. Want you to cum for me again.”

You sob out Chan’s name, unaware of the tears slipping down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut and came for the second time in a matter of minutes. It was too fast, too sudden, still too sensitive from your last orgasm—

—and it was everything you ever wanted.

Chan immediately slows down when you start spasming around him, letting you ride out your orgasm slowly this time. He continues to murmur praises in your ear, pressing open mouthed kisses on the shoulder nearest to him.

You’re hiccuping and gasping his name, fingers tugging on his hair desperately. You were so lost in pleasure that you don’t notice him slowly pulling out and sitting back on his knees, pulling you back with him. He untangles your hands from his hair gently, and your arms limp at your sides now that you’re slumped over.

Chan brushes your hair back from your sweaty face when your head lolls back, and you easily accept the searing kiss that he presses on your lips. Though you were barely kissing back, breathing too hard to move your lips, you refused to let him pull away.

Chan’s kisses were like air for you during times like this, and you drink them in greedily.

“You were so good for me.” Chan praises once he pulls away, eyes bright as he stares down at you lovingly, thumb brushing against the tear tracks on your cheeks. “My good girl.”

Slipping an arm under your knees, he rearranges your positions so you could lie down on the middle of the bed. Chan lies on his side next to you, one hand propping his head up while the other hand intertwines with yours, squeezing every few seconds.

You were in a limbo, somewhere between still being conscious of your surroundings and feeling floaty, but Chan’s murmured praises and constant touches bring you back to the ground fully.

“Good?” Chan asks, sounding genuine, but you catch the smug look in his eyes.

You laugh quietly in response, eyes rolling good-naturedly, hand coming up to punch him playfully. Chan grins wide, leaning down so he could press a sweet kiss to your lips.

And when he pulls away, he brings your intertwined hands up to his face so he could place a kiss on the back of your hand too. You shudder from the sudden wave of affection going through you, feeling so lucky to be taken care of by someone as caring as Chan.

But. There was one issue.

“Channie,” you exhale, shifting to your side so you could plaster your sweaty body close to his, burying your face in his neck and breathing in his scent.

“Hmm?” He lets go of your hand so he could tuck your hair behind your ear, wanting to see your face.

“You didn’t-“ you start, indicating to the hard-on pressed against your thigh. You hear the breath he sucks in when you grind against it, but then there’s a hand stopping your hips from moving any more.

“We don’t have to.” Chan reassures, referring to your fucked out state as nicely as he could. It made you chuckle, until— “I already made you cry, anyway.”

You swat at his stomach, making him groan and laugh at the same time. He falls back onto the mattress, giggling as he shielded his torso away from your hands.

He was right, though. Your legs were already shaking, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how sore you would be tomorrow. Not to mention the different bite marks around your body. You look like you’ve just been mauled by a wild animal.

But—

“I want more.” You whine softly, knowing it got to Chan whenever you vocalized what you wanted. You crawl up his body slowly, watching as he licked his lips. You hips lower, sitting right on Chan’s cock and grinding, and you relish in the way his teeth grits.

You lean down, letting your lips brush against his ear before whispering, “Want you to cum in me.”

“Shit,” Chan curses, hands coming up to catch your hips in a bruising grip, halting your movements again. He was definitely holding back for your sake, but you didn’t want that. You had a deal to uphold.

“Come on, daddy.” You purr in his ear, grinning when he tenses again. “Don’t you want to fuck me full of your cum?”

You squeak when Chan flips your positions, him now on top of you and your arms pinned above your head. You breathe heavily, watching as his glazed eyes rake over your marked form, like he was taking you in. Carving the way you look into his memories.

He leans down then, arms caging the sides of your head. “You drive me crazy.” He admits, voice fond despite his heated look, and you blush all the way to the tip of your ears.

“Crazy enough for you to fuck me into the mattress?” You ask, voice tilting up hopefully as you flush, but you’re cut off by your own moan when Chan suddenly spreads your legs and ducks down, tongue licking a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck!” You gasp at the sudden attack to your sensitive pussy, head throwing back and hands immediately coming down to grip Chan’s hair. “You- what are you- oh, fuck me.”

You could feel the puffs of breath against your clit as Chan laughed, and you hit him on the back using your foot, annoyed that he was laughing as you lost your mind. He ignores you, swirling and flicking his tongue around the sensitive nub, before continuing to dip his tongue inside you.

The moan he lets out rivals your own, and you gasp as Chan eats pussy like he’s a starved man and it's his first meal, the slurping noises he makes sounding lewd even to your own ears.

You chant his name like a prayer, squirming on the bed as you tug on his hair hard. That only serves to make him moan, which in turn also made you clench again.

“Baby,” you sob, “please. If I don’t get your cock in me, I’ll- I- please.”

Chan finally lets up at that, pressing one last kiss to your swollen clit before he kisses his way up your body.

“Yeah? You need it?” He asks, breathless, but it was clear he wasn’t waiting for an answer. He must be as worked up as you are, because there was no more teasing this time, and you gasp when you feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit.

“What the hell was that,” you demand, voice clipped because Chan was pushing inside you again, testing the waters with miniscule thrusts. You jerk each time.

“Wanted you to shut up.” Chan chuckles, but he’s cut off by his own groan when he feels your hot, velvety walls clamp around him in response. He sucks in a deep breath, feeling how wet you were from both your juices and his spit.

“Shit, baby, how are you still so tight?” Chan sighs contentedly, pressing open mouthed kisses to your cheek. He’s got his upper arms on either side of your head, and you’re so close together that your breasts press against his chest, making you jolt with every brush of your nipples against his pecs. “You fit my cock so well, got me so hard-“

“It’s cause- ah, I’m made for you, shit, right there-” you slur mindlessly, head thrown back from the pleasure as Chan drove straight into your g-spot again and again. The way he hit it so precisely each time should have freaked you out, but you were far too out of your mind with pleasure to think about it.

Chan’s hips falter at the words.

“What did you say, baby? Say that again.” Chan demands, sounding desperate, and you gather all the strength you had left to pick your head up and look up at him. With how close you were, you were pressed nose to nose, Chan leaning down even further so your forehead pressed together. You meet eyes, and you shudder at the intensity of his gaze, suddenly looking much more animalistic than before. Ah.

Bullseye.

“Was made for you.” You murmur again, clearer now, arms coming up to wrap around Chan’s shoulders for leverage as he used you to get to his own orgasm. “I take your cock well because you’ve ruined me for anybody else, Chan,” you admit, eyes shaking. “Nobody’s ever— ever going to make me feel like this. Like you do- oh, fuck!”

You feel Chan bristling at the mention of someone else, and despite your fuzzy mind, you rush to placate him. “I’m yours, baby. Just yours.” you swear, cupping his cheek and forcing him to focus his gaze on you. You needed him to understand. “Any way you want. All of me. I’m all yours.”

Chan’s hips stutter, and he leans down to press your mouths together again. He’s moving too much to have your lips locked in a proper kiss, but he nibbles your lips, breathing heavily as he whispers, “Mine.” over and over again against your jaw.

Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind him. The pleasure and pain was so blurred that it was making you tear up again, but you pull him closer and beg him to go harder.

There’s a certain urgency to his thrusts now, more frantic and more desperate now that he’s let himself go, and you relish in his unrestrained groans and moans mixing with your own.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice guttural, and just the sounds of his fucked out voice saying your name has you tightening immediately again, making both you and Chan gasp. “Shit, baby, wait, I’m close- where-“

“Inside.” You beg, now nose to nose to Chan as he leaned his forehead on top of yours, eyes searching frantically. “Inside. I told you earlier, didn’t I?”

Chan groans, a loud and raw sound that vibrates against your chest, especially when he ducks his head down to the side so you were cheek to cheek now. You feel his teeth nip at your earlobe, low moans loud in your ear as his thrusts get more sloppy and uncoordinated.

“Y/N, are you-“

“I’m sure, Chan.” You turn your head, and your lips brush against his ear when you beg, “cum inside me. I want to feel it, want you to fuck your cum back into me. Please.”

Chan grunts, cock pulsing inside you at the thought. He was so close— teetering right at the edge as you continued to clench around him and whisper filthy things in his ear.

The last straw is when you tug his head back just in time, forcibly making your gazes meet when you whisper,

“Please, baby. Remind me that I’m yours.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as he finally stills and pumps his cum into you. The first spurt has you gasping noisily, clutching onto Chan tightly as he fills you up. You maintain eye contact for one glorious moment, but Chan’s eyes eventually flutter shut due to the overwhelming pleasure. You watch as his head lolls back, throat working out grunts and moans, complete bliss on his face.

The look is what triggers your fourth and final orgasm; dry and painfully, painfully good.

When he picks his head back up, your lips meet in a bruising kiss, tongues sliding against each other and teeth clacking as you both ride out your orgasm, him milking his cock inside you.

If you were filled before, you were bursting at the seams now.

Chan doesn’t pull out for a couple of minutes, the both of you catching your breath. But when he does finally pull out you immediately hiss, clearly oversensitive.

You clench unconsciously, but it’s no use, because you’re already shuddering from the feeling of Chan’s cum trailing out your hole.

Chan swallows, eyes staring intently at the way you clenched and unclenched with his cum dripping out of you, and he curses when his spent dick gives an interested twitch.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you croak out, shaking as you stretch your legs out. “If you so much as touch me right now, I might pass out.”

Chan’s lips quirk at the playfulness in your tone, but he knew there was some truth to your words. So he asks you if he can go get something to clean you up, only moving when you give him a clear response of yes. He’s back with a clean, damp cotton towel a minute later, as well as a bottle of water.

You groan in thanks when he makes you drink, patiently waiting until you’re finished to call your attention.

“Baby,” he calls, and you turn your head to face him. He holds the towel up as a form of a question, and you sigh, knowing it was better than nothing. You weren’t in any position to shower right now.

“Be careful, pl-“

“Shh.” Chan smoothes, starting by rubbing a thumb on your thigh. You were so high-strung that even that simple touch startled you, but Chan takes his sweet time and doesn’t rush you, distracting you with kisses every time you spasm.

He finishes cleaning you up soon enough, doing all the work and refusing to let you lift even a finger. You end up cuddled together after, just basking in each other’s warmth and your post-orgasm glows.

Sex with Chan was always amazing, because no matter how slow or how hard and fast you two went, it always ended in sweet kisses and cuddling. Chan never takes his hands off you, not even for a second, always attentive to your needs and wants. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the whole wide world.

In the background, a phone pings, jolting you out of your daze.

“Babe,” Chan calls when he unlocks his phone, chuckling under his breath. “I really did fuck you six ways to sunday.”

You prop your head up on his arm, peering up at his phone lazily. The first thing you see is a picture of you on the lockscreen, taken from when you were napping on his studio couch. The second thing you see is the time and date.

Sunday, 1:34 am.

You snort, turning away from the harsh glare of his phone to bury your face in his bicep. “That wasn’t even six. That was like— three. Or four at most. I don’t know. I blacked out.”

Chan snickers, locking his phone and tossing it on the nightstand. He’ll deal with the notifications tomorrow. For now...

He turns back to you, lips tugging into a smirk as he trails the tip of his fingers down your back, making you shudder.

“Wanna make it six, then? We still have time.”

You immediately yelp, slapping his hand away and rolling off him. You wiggle under the covers, tucking it around you to shield your body away from Chan’s hands.

“Are you crazy?! I can’t even feel my lower half!” You squawk, glaring at him from where you’re peeking behind the covers.

Chan laughs, that squeaky loud laugh you love that has his whole body shaking and eyes crinkling. He crawls over to you and nuzzles his face on top of your head, giggles pressing against your hair.

“Babyyy,” he whines, still laughing. “Let me in. I’m cold.”

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “What will you trade me?”

Chan’s eyebrows wiggle. “Your blanket for my body.”

You groan in disgust, turning your body away from your laughing boyfriend. Chan usually thinks he’s soooo hilarious, and he believes you do too.

Hiding, you bite back a smile.

“Yah,” he complains now, wrapping his lanky limbs around your burrito looking form from behind. “Come out already. I wanna cuddle.”

You wiggle out the covers soon enough, because you truthfully wanted to cuddle too, and plus, Chan’s pecs were nice to lie on. He welcomes you in his arms easy, huffing out a laugh when you smooch one of his pecs lovingly.

“I’m kinda hungry.” You admit after a few minutes, making Chan groan in disbelief.

“You’re insatiable. There’s no end to that stomach, is there?” Chan asks rhetorically, and you open your mouth to answer because you want to annoy him, but Chan catches you before you could. His hand comes up to cover your mouth, though his hand was so big that he ends up covering your nose as well. “Nope. Shut up. Quiet now.”

You laugh behind his hand, squirming and struggling until he finally relents when you lick his palm. And as if he didn’t just fuck his cum into you earlier, Chan scrunches his face and says, “Gross.”

You scoff. “You fuck me well into the next day and you’re expecting me not to get hungry?!”

“But this kitchen is so far,” Chan whines, even though you didn’t really ask him to get food for you. You’re just about to tell him that, when he adds, “-but fine. I’ll miss you for all the time that it takes you to get food.”

Chan flops back on the bed, eyes shut and clearly expecting you to leave. You squawk, pretending to be offended and swatting at his chest. “You’re just going to let your girlfriend go out into the night like that?! When I can’t even walk?!”

Chan opens one eye, amused. “The night is just 15 steps away.”

“Fine.” you huff, scooting back to your position. You drop your head down on Chan’s chest-- hard-- making him yelp. “I wasn’t even that hungry anyway. And we don’t even have food.”

He laughs, hand automatically finding its way to your hair. “I’ll get you whatever you want tomorrow, I promise. We’ll get brunch on the way to getting groceries, okay? How about that?”

You sniffle. “I want chicken.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it, just fondness. “Then we’ll get chicken.”

“‘kay.”

You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of Chan’s fingers carding through your hair. His pecs were the perfect pillows, and combined with your post-sex exhaustion and Chan’s warmth, you were sure you were about to fall sleep. Dreamland was one step away, and you’re just about to fall into the waiting arms of a deep sleep when suddenly--

Chan’s stomach growls. Loud.

You burst out laughing, body curling up and shaking as you turn to Chan, who was hiding his face behind his arms in embarrassment.

“And I’m the insatiable one?”

“Not one word.” Chan huffs, refusing to meet your eyes as he grabs some clothes to throw at you. They land on your face, a move you knew was deliberate because you were still giggling.

Chan was the cutest when he was flustered, and even in the dim lighting of your room, you could see how red his ears were.

So you both bundle up— in only a few articles of clothing since it was an unusually hot night— just for the sake of looking decent. Chan wiggles in some sweatpants, and you slip on his shirt and boxers.

When you get up from the bed, Chan-- ever the gentleman that he is-- genuinely panics when you flail due to your legs buckling, and his arms are around you holding you up before you could even blink.

“You really can’t walk?” Chan asks, sounding hilariously horrified.

“No-” you laugh, “don’t look so scared. You didn’t break me, idiot. I can definitely still walk, just let me get used to it.”

But Chan seemed to think otherwise, because suddenly, your feet are off the ground and you’re being carried bridal style. You yelp, arms coming up to lock around Chan’s neck so you don’t fall.

“What.” This is the second time you’ve been carried to the kitchen in under a day, courtesy of your muscly boyfriend who seemed to think picking people up was something you can do casually.

“It’d take too long. I’m hungry.” Chan huffs, and you roll your eyes, amused. Chan could be a baby when he was hungry, and this was evident in how he rummages through the fridge with little huffs after he sets you down.

“There’s nothing to eat.” He sighs, as if the both of you didn’t already know that.

You groan, leaning against the counter. “I’m pretty sure we have ice cream?”

“That’s not very healthy.” Chan frowns, but opens the freezer door anyway and grabs the tub when he sees it.

You only turn around for a second to get a spoon, but when you face Chan again, he’s already sitting cross-legged on the floor, brows furrowed as he attempts to use the lid to scoop out some ice cream. You huff out a breath, exasperated and fond at the same time.

He looks up at the sound, then grins when you meet eyes. He opens his arms then, beckoning you over, and you carefully sit between his legs. Chan shifts a little bit to the side, hooking his chin on your shoulder. You move your hair to the other side so it won’t bother Chan, and he presses a quick peck to your now exposed cheek in thanks.

You yelp when Chan places the icy tub on your bare thighs, then glare when he just giggles. Chan’s shirt was huge on you, so he pulled it over your knees, giving the tub of ice cream a blanket of sorts to sit on and sparing your thighs.

Then, he takes the spoon from your hand, stabbing it through the iced treat with all the strength of a man who works out.

It barely pokes through. The ice cream was too frozen.

But you still wow exaggeratedly in an attempt to boost his ego, squealing when Chan digs his free hand on your side and tickles you. The spoon still gets a tiny, tiny bit of ice cream though, and you hate that you still blush when Chan feeds it to you.

“I think we have to wait for this to melt.” Chan says, blowing on the tub. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, giggling.

“Why are you blowing on it, then?”

“Why am I- oh.”

You laugh at the dumbstruck expression on Chan’s face, finally realizing he was unconsciously blowing on frozen ice cream. Your laugh echoes throughout the apartment, and it’s only at that moment that you realized how quiet it was. The refrigerator hums beside you two, but other than that and some cars passing by outside, it was complete silence.

You realize how dark it was too, the only light sources coming from the refrigerator, and your bedroom.

“Shouldn’t we turn on the light?” You ask, and Chan looks up from where he’s violently stabbing the ice cream.

“Eh. Fridge works. Plus it’s hot, so I’m not closing this.” Chan shrugs, then pauses when he sees the look on your face. He chuckles, pulling you closer to him by the waist. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’m right here, remember?”

“I’m not scared,” you scoff, but scoot closer to Chan anyway.

The ice cream eventually melts enough for the spoon to dig in, and you and Chan take turns feeding each other. Chan had his back against some drawers, while you were tucked between Chan’s legs, head on his shoulder and ice cream tub on your stomach. The condensation was wetting your shirt and making the cold seep to your stomach, but you didn’t mind. You were too comfortable to move.

Chan was making a habit of kissing you after he fed you a spoon, and you liked the feeling of his cold lips tasting like strawberries more than you’d like to admit. Some tongue slips in after a while, but it doesn’t go any further than that, both of you too exhausted.

The dim light of the fridge casts a yellowish hue on yours and Chan’s lower halves, creating shadows. You play with that for a moment, wiggling your legs and making shadow puppets of animals with your hands. Chan watches you silently, so silent that you think for a moment that he’d fallen asleep.

But then he drops the spoon into the tub— and all while keeping his other arm around your waist— reaches a hand out to the light so it creates a shadow, and shapes his hand into…

...half of a heart.

You grin stupidly, and the way your heart rattles inside your chest shouldn’t be normal. At all. You had to get checked out. This was the type of cheesy things Chan loved to do daily, yet you reacted to each and every one of them like it’s his first time doing so.

He loved leaving heart doodles on the whiteboard by the fridge that had your schedules in it, particularly hearts that were next to your name. He dedicates songs to you, writes about you, and even sings to you when you want him to. He stops by the practice room when he knows you’re inside, slipping in quickly to say hello and kiss your forehead, uncaring of the loud teasing from trainees.

But if you couldn’t say hello, if you were in the middle of something, he always, always made sure to leave a heart on the mirrors that were fogged up from intense dancing. Sometimes it would just be a heart, sometimes it was a doodle. Other times it was a message like; good luck, or see you at lunch, or hey sexy with a winking face.

Most of the time, it’s three simple words.

I love you, it would read.

“Yah,” Chan complains, jolting you out of your sappy stupor. “Are you going to leave me hanging?”

He’s frowning now, wiggling the little half heart around impatiently. You grin at that, muttering about how he was being a baby and making him huff. But then you finally reach forward, painfully aware of how your heart jumped from doing this one simple action.

You complete the heart, and you both watch the shadow that it forms.

Chan sighs happily, turning his head to press a quick, cold kiss to your cheek. You knew the heart wasn’t going to stay for long, since your arms would get tired, but Chan doesn’t break the heart to pull away.

Instead, he intertwines your fingers, letting the shadow from some weird version of your hands together, and it’s only then that he brings your hands back. You grin as you lean back against him again, Chan wrapping both arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

At 2:04 am, you sit with Chan on the kitchen floor, the refrigerator both illuminating and cooling your bodies, empty ice cream tub beside you.

2:08 am, Chan carries you back to your bedroom. Not because you couldn’t walk still, but because he loved the feeling of you in his arms, head tucked safely into the crook of his neck.

2:09 am, you and Chan slip under the covers, and you giggle when he scolds you about kicking off the blanket in your sleep. You placate him with a kiss and a promise to keep him warm.

And at 2:16 am on a Sunday, after a couple more kisses and hushed sweet nothings, you end up with your ear pressed against Chan’s chest, the beating of his heart combined with his quiet breathing lulling you sleep.

Chan stays awake for a couple minutes more, ensuring you were comfortable and finally resting. He wraps his around you when you shift in your sleep, hand automatically cupping the back of your head. Keeping you close, right where his heart was. He knew you weren’t going anywhere, but every second with you was something he knew he had to treasure.

“Y/N,” he sighed, burying his face in your hair. “I love you. So much. Too much, I think. Sometimes I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.” he pauses, swallowing. “Honestly… just saying it doesn’t feel enough anymore. How can I show you I love you? At this point, I want to grab every person in the street and list out all the reasons why.”

He snorts at the mental image, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. “That sounds a bit crazy, isn’t it? I have an infinite number of reasons… so if I do that to every single person, how long would that take me? Huh. Should I really do the math on that?” he pauses, then: “God, even in your sleep you’re driving me crazy.”

You murmur something in your sleep, catching his attention. You were mumbling nonsense, but when his hand cups your cheek, you quiet down.

Smiling wistfully, he adds, “but... I don’t care. Really, Y/N, I’ll give you all my love if it means staying like this with you forever.”

Pressing one last kiss to your forehead, Chan finally gets comfortable and closes his eyes.

He’s much more vulnerable when he knows you’re asleep because he’d be too flustered if you replied, but the responding snore you give him a few seconds later makes him laugh again. Maybe you were unconsciously trying to respond to him, maybe you were just really deep in dreamland.

Either way, Chan falls asleep with a smile on his face, and the love of his life in his arms.

Sunday, 12:47 pm.

The brunch Chan had promised turns into a late lunch, because by the time you both woke up the next-- the same?-- day, it was already quarter past noon.

True to your predictions last night, you were sore. Chan runs you a hot bath, genuinely looking worried now, but you assure him that it wasn’t something that a few painkillers couldn’t fix. But he still looked uneasy, so you raised an eyebrow.

“What, you’re gonna regret the way you fucked me until I cried?”

Chan turns as red as a tomato, and you laugh as he spins on his heel and leaves you in the bathroom, shouting something about getting the medicine.

It did hurt, but you kind of liked it, considering the reason why you were sore. Chan frowns and questions why you were red in the face when he gets back, worried you were getting a fever, but you just flush even more and shoo him away.

When you get out of the bath, the first thing that greets you is the smell of chicken. Chan must have ordered while you bathed, and your heart warms at the thought of your boyfriend remembering your hunger and craving for chicken.

That is, until you find Chan on the couch already munching on a drumstick. He looks up at you in alarm when you walk in, face guilty.

“God, you’re insatiable.” You mock with your best impression of Chan’s voice, and the attempt makes him laugh too much to be mad about it.

You gorge yourselves on chicken and soda, some reruns of an anime you both love playing on the TV. You’re barely paying attention, more focused on the fan you had turned on blowing cool air on your face and the feeling of Chan massaging your feet.

You don’t even notice that you drifted off, jolting awake to the sound of an explosion coming from the TV. You must have been asleep for a while, because the table was clear of any takeout boxes and soda cans. At that moment, Chan comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered. He smiles when he sees you squinting at him, disoriented and half awake.

“Come on, baby. Time to get groceries.”

You didn’t bother to dress up much, considering it was hot out and you were not about to put fashion first and experience a possible heat stroke. So you steal another one of Chan’s shirts, ignoring his half-hearted protests.

He had plenty of other shirts. He could use those.

Chan gives you a look when you come bounding out of the bedroom in his shirt, but you knew he liked his clothes on you. The pink tinging his cheeks was more than enough proof. Plus, you had a diversion.

“Help me?” You ask, and Chan tilts his head, confused. But then you bring out a box, velvet and rectangular and blue.

It was the box that holds the necklace Chan gifted you for your birthday, and considering your profession, you couldn’t wear it everyday, hating the thought of it being drenched in sweat or god forbid, breaking while you dance.

So you wear it on your off days, keeping it in the box most of the time to be safe. Chan chuckles, smiling stupidly as he takes the necklace out the box, snorting when you scold him to be careful with it.

“Alright, alright. Just turn around, will you?” You huff, but turn around obediently, moving your hair away so Chan could do it easily. The cool metal of the necklace settling against your neck has you shivering, but so does the soft kiss that Chan presses on your exposed nape and shoulder. The pendant— a compass— sits between your collarbones, and you hold it between your fingers gently, feeling giddy.

Chan watches you with a soft smile for a few seconds, taking you in. It’s only when he notices the time that he regretfully bursts your bubble, grabbing your attention with a kiss to your cheek and taking your free hand in his.

“Ready?” he asks, eyes shining, and your heart flutters.

“Yeah.” You smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Let’s go.”

And though your diversion had worked for a moment, you knew yourself that it wouldn’t last. Chan still complains as you walk down the street, intertwined hands swinging between you, talking about how he had nothing to wear.

“You should just walk around shirtless then.” You suggest, winking, and you barely manage to stop an embarrassing shriek when Chan pretends to trip you. There was no way you were going to fall though, because Chan had a tight grip on your arms, but you still punch him on the shoulder for it.

Chan reacts dramatically, exaggerating his yelp of pain, as if he didn’t have hard muscle surrounding his entire body. You roll your eyes, leaving him on the sidewalk, ignoring his calls of your name mixed with his laughter.

You laugh and stumble on the way to the grocery store like idiots, and the time it took for you to get there probably took twice the time than it originally would, with how much you two were goofing off. But you do eventually get there in one piece, albeit breathless and giggly.

You guys had no specific routine for grocery shopping, just that there was a limit to snacks, and it was 5 for each of you. No more than that.

(This rule is usually never followed, but you guys keep it and remind each other of it at the entrance, just for the sake of acting like you were responsible adults who could control their cravings and knew how to stick to their budget.)

Thus, grocery shopping with you was always an experience, because you and Chan were both very passionate about food and would sometimes have different opinions. It would end in tiny fights, but it gets resolved just as quickly as it starts.

Either Chan relents because you looked cute and he secretly wants it, or you relent because Chan looked cute and you secretly want it.

So more often than not, other shoppers would find two people disputing in the middle of some aisle, and it’s just the two of you hissing back and forth about the pros and cons of a certain product.

Like now.

“We don’t eat that cereal. You don’t even like how it tastes.”

“You don’t like how it tastes. I ate the entire bag when we last bought this.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “And did you do that willingly?”

“Well, no, but-” You stomp your foot, frustrated. All the tantrum does is bring a smile to Chan’s face, which wasn’t what you wanted. You weren’t being cute. You needed him to understand. “Ah, you know I don’t like wasting food!”

“So, why, pray tell, do you want to buy that?”

“Because-” you start, and Chan flicks his gaze down to the cereal in your hands, confused. But then you turn the box around and-

Ah.

“Look,” you point at the bowl stuck on the back of the box, grinning excitedly. “They have an ugly black cat now.”

Simply put, the box that you were holding was a brand of cereal that was for kids, and the taste of the actual cereal was too medicine-y for you and Chan. However, the sole reason you had bought one before is because of the freebie the cereal came with, a small plastic bowl with a white cat painted on it.

To be honest, the cat was kind of ugly and terrifying looking, but you were drawn to it for inexplicable reasons. Chan, who was unknowing of the taste of the cereal at that time, simply nodded and let you take the box home.

The cereal itself was crossed out from the very first taste, but you’ve both grown fond of the ugly white cat bowl, sometimes using it for non-cereal things.

(Like wine, after a long, long day at work. It typically consists of the bowl being passed back and forth between you two, instead of just chugging the entire bottle down like animals. You both had too much class for that.)

Chan sighs exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. But your excitement was infectious, and he finds himself smiling at the ugly little thing too.

Still, he tries to be the responsible adult and reasons, “you’re already 3 snacks past the limit. Plus, don’t we already have a bowl at home?”

“I know we do! But look at this black cat, Channie. Ugly White Cat can get a friend, plus if we get another bowl, that means we can match. Matching ugly cat bowls.” You explain, holding the box up to his face and wiggling it. “Think about it.”

And Chan did think about it for a moment. You really didn’t need another bowl, having plenty enough for the two of you and possible guests, but the prospect of matching with you…

And ugly white cat did look kind of lonely...

Fuck. He was getting too weak for this. You look at him with wide eyes, pleading and seemingly innocent, but you knew what effect that had on him.

He sighs, but there’s a smile on his face when he grumbles. “Fine.”

You cheer, pressing a long kiss to his cheek before you scramble away again, mentioning something about juice boxes.

Chan watches you skip down the aisle, grinning at the way your arms clutched the cereal box close to your chest, as if someone was going to take it away from you. He watches until you reach the end, crouching down at the selection of juice boxes.

He knew you took your juice box selection very seriously, evident in the way you were frowning and reading label packages. You looked kind of ridiculous, Chan’s old shirt bunched around your waist and a cereal box with some toy for kids tucked in your arms.

His shirt, which was entirely too big for you, starts sliding down your shoulders due to your crouched position. This reveals your neck, and he flushes when he sees memories of last night blooming on your skin.

And even from this distance, he sees the necklace and the way it glints, making you look much more ethereal.

After a few seconds, you apparently read something you didn’t like, because your head snaps up suddenly, catching Chan’s attention just so you could point at a box and make a disgusted face.

Chan laughs, despite not knowing what the hell you just pointed to. But you seem to be satisfied by his response, because you grace him with the prettiest smile, the one that he loved among your many other smiles— the one that makes your eyes crinkle and your cheeks bigger.

Chan’s breath catches in his throat at the sight. Something in his heart sings.

He loves you. He was so in love with you that it hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side. To sleep with you, wake up with you, argue about groceries in pajamas with you, have matching ugly cat bowls with you, and come home with you— all of that. Always.

So when you turn back to your juice boxes, Chan hurriedly pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contact list quickly and tapping the call button on a familiar name.

Chan and you meet eyes again when you hold up two juice boxes of different flavors for him to pick. He knows immediately that you picked the orange one because he likes it, but Chan also knows that you couldn’t stand the orange flavor. So he tilts his head to the right, choosing apple.

You blink in surprise, but he could tell you were trying to hide the fact that you were giddy he picked apple. He smiles softly, heart singing again.

On his phone, the call he made finally picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hey, Bin? You busy? No, no, we’re fine. Yeah, I just-- remember the jewellery shop we went to last month? Do you still have their address? Yeah, that one. I threw mine out because I didn’t want Y/N to suspect anything.”

A pause, then he snorts, “I’m aware I just bought her a necklace, yes. But I’m not buying a necklace this time. Really. Yeah, um. Well, I think I—“ Chan swallows, eyes nervously going back to you.

You had both the cereal and juice box in your arms now, seemingly on your way back to Chan, but then you get distracted by free samples of cheese. You pretend to reject the offer for a moment, but falter in your step when the saleslady tries again. Chan snorts softly when you take five samples unashamedly, heart singing louder.

Will you wait for me? / Of course. You know I always will.

You were the only one who ever made him feel like this.

Honestly… just saying it doesn’t feel enough anymore. How can I show you I love you?

I’ll give you all my love if it means staying like this with you forever.

Your eyes meet again. You’ve balanced the plate of cheese on top of your boxes, face looking all too proud and excited as you gestured to the cheese, beckoning him over. He nods, indicating he’ll be there, and you go back to talking animatedly with the saleslady.

“Hyung?” Changbin’s voice on the other line calls, waiting for him to continue. “You think...?”

“Ah, no… I’m sure.” Chan smiles giddily, heart now creating symphonies in his chest. He’s never been more sure in his life.

All of this. Always.

“A ring. I’m buying a ring.”

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 9}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 3378

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Hestia

– Goddess of the hearth, home and family

Mondays and Wednesdays always seemed to drag.

Thanks to her lack of Rowan in class, Aelin’s classes were boring and she found herself thinking of other things, rather than the notes she was supposed to be taking. Like the way Rowan’s eyes had been on her as she went down on him in the shower earlier than morning.

At his insistence, she’d begun using his shower for more than just sex purposes, as she’d so eloquently explained to him the week before. She was regularly staying over, getting ready for her own classes in the morning, just as he was. But whenever one of them followed the other into the tiled shower, it was used for practical reasons.

As well as sexual ones.

Suppressing a whine as she thought of the way Rowan had pinned her up against the cool tiles that morning, Aelin crossed her legs and checked her watch. Only another twenty minutes and then she had her break between classes. She wasn’t hungry, thanks to the protein bar she’d eaten just before this class started, and she was close to the gen ed building, so she decided she would drop by her mythology professor’s office. She had a few questions about the homework he’d assigned yesterday and face-to-face was always better to her than an email.

Once her anatomy professor was wrapping up, Aelin was tossing her books into a bag and hauling ass across campus. Rowan’s last class was wrapping up, too, and she didn’t want to miss him before he hurried off to do whatever else.

She could’ve texted him to stay put, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

She made it to his building and dodged by those who were hurrying off to their other classes or their beds, and stopped at Rowan’s office door before giving it a halting knock.

It took him a second to answer, but when he did, he was handsome as ever.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the button down tucked into his trousers. When he saw it was Aelin at his office door, a silver brow lifted.

“Aelin,” he began, clearing his throat. “How may I help you?”

“I have some questions about the homework,” she began, voice low, even though no one else was around. “Can I come in for a second?”

Rowan moved aside before she had finished her question. With one last glance down the hall he shared with a few other first-year professors, he shut the door, sealing them into his office. The blinds were open, but on the third floor, it wasn’t like anyone could see the private meeting he and his student were about to have.

Even if he didn’t know what kind of meeting it was about to be.

“Are you on your lunch break?” She asked, leaning back against his desk.

He nodded. “Didn’t plan on taking lunch, but I’ve got a couple hours before my next class. Was going to work on some grading. Why?”

He had stepped closer, pausing beside one of the chairs he kept in front of the desk for students to sit in.

Aelin clearly had other ideas of where to sit though. With a smirk, she reached out and lightly gripped his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“You had questions about the homework,” he breathed, leaning away as she tried to kiss him.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t kiss her. He just wanted to see her squirm.

And squirm, she did. “You know very well that I turned in the homework yesterday afternoon.”

She tried to kiss him again, but he fell away, even though his arms were around her waist.

“I don’t recall that,” he taunted. “Maybe you could remind me.”

“I turned it in just before I did this,” she crooned, and her lips found his.

Aelin kissed him, slowly, her arms snaking around his neck. She swore she would never tire of the feeling of his mouth on hers.

“Oh yeah,” Rowan muttered, against her lips. “Now I remember.”

It only took him a second to grab her hips and set her on top of his desk.

There was a clattering of something tipping over, probably a cup of pens or paper clips from the sound of it, but neither of them cared. Not as he gripped the outside of her thigh where her legs were wrapped around him, or her hand found its way into his hair. He was both frustrated and very glad she’d worn leggings today. While he wished she was wearing something with a bit easier access, it was probably a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t get his hand between her legs.

Or his mouth.

Or any other body parts.

That wasn’t stopping Aelin from rubbing against him, looking for friction, as their tongues battled and teeth occasionally clashed. She let out a quiet moan and he tugged on her hair, pulling her lips from his.

“We’re not fucking in my office,” he breathed, looking her in the eyes. “It is way too dangerous.”

She nodded, knowing and accepting the fact, but it didn’t mean she was done kissing him.

“Was this morning not enough?” He smirked, trailing his lips down her throat instead of returning to hers.

“It’s never enough,” she gasped. “Every time I’m away from you…”

Her words trailed off as their lips met. It was true. It was never enough. She was so fulfilled with Rowan, and the second he was gone, she longed for him.

“Come over tonight,” Aelin begged. “Stay with me tonight.”

Rowan groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.

They stayed at Rowan’s nearly every night. The only times Aelin stayed at her own apartment was when she had an exam or homework she had to work on, without Rowan distracting her. Lysandra and Aedion had met Rowan over dinner a few nights before, though Aelin had insisted take out was much more her friends’ speed than a fully home cooked meal. However, Aelin had a lab due the following morning, so after dinner, Rowan had gone back home.

Alone.

“We have class tomorrow,” he replied, lips still on hers.

“So we’ll make sure we get up early.” Dragging her teeth across his jaw, she gripped his shoulders. “Bring over everything you’ll need to come straight to class.”

Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t live on campus,” Aelin said, quietly. “It’s not like I live somewhere surrounded by students.”

Rowan pulled back and met her gaze. “It’s important to you?”

Aelin nodded, arms still wrapped around the back of his neck. “I love being cooped up in your apartment. I really do. But, sometimes I wanna be cooped up somewhere else, too.”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” Aelin asked, a soft smile painted across her light pink lips.

Rowan couldn’t help his own smile forming as he leaned forward and pulled Aelin closer to him as he kissed her, softly. They went on like that, dwelling in those slow, prolonged kisses. There was something personal, something exceptional about a long, slow kiss. Something sensual that made Aelin’s stomach feel like it was going to explode, even though it lacked that animalistic passion they had come to find within one another.

A quick knock at the door had them jumping apart, Rowan dragging a quick hand through his hair, not having a chance to reply before the door opened.

“Hey, Rowan, I was hoping you could— Oh.”

The pretty woman froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.

It was innocent enough, though Aelin’s lips were swollen from their kisses. That could easily be explained away, especially as her teeth found the bottom lip and gnawed on it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had an appointment,” she said, eyeing Aelin, who had thankfully gotten off the desk before she’d entered.

“It wasn’t officially booked,” he explained, slightly stepping in front of Aelin to keep her shielded. “Miss Galathynius had a few questions about the homework I assigned in class and about an upcoming project. She stopped by during her lunch break, since her schedule is so busy.”

Silence built in the office, and after a second, Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Remelle?”

“Maeve sent out an email about a mandatory department meeting for Thursday night,” she said, slowly, still looking at them both suspiciously. “A couple of us in the building were going to get drinks after, wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll plan on it.”

“Good,” Remelle said, a little too quickly. “And check your mailbox in the office. It’s full.”

With another look at Aelin, then at Rowan, Remelle left and the door fell shut behind her.

Silence enveloped the room.

Rowan slowly turned around to look at Aelin, whose face was pale.

“You couldn’t have locked the door?” she whispered.

Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t have been suspicious, being locked in here with a student.”

For some reason, the word student felt like a jab coming from him in that moment. Aelin’s back straightened. “I wasn’t aware that the receptionist randomly barges into your office. If a student found it locked, they probably wouldn’t think it was weird, at all. Offices around here are locked all the damn time.”

Rowan sighed and nodded. He stepped towards her and ran his hands up and down her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “You should go. There’s only so much we can talk about homework.”

Nodding, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her up in his own. “I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll run by my place to grab some things and pick up dinner on the way,” he promised, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Grabbing her bag from the chair, she adjusted her messy bun, which was only a little messier than it had been before and slipped out the office door.

Leaning back on the spot Aelin had just been sitting in, Rowan took a quick moment to breathe before setting his desk to rights and heading down to check his community mailbox. It wasn’t full as Remelle had implied, but there were a few things in it, mostly department memos and notes from other professors. He ignored her suspicious look as he made his way back up the stairs to his office and settled behind his desk to work on the grading he’d planned to do during his lunch.

He was halfway through an essay from one of his upperclassmen when his email dinged on his laptop. It had gone off a few times since Aelin had left, but he’d ignored them, assuming they were automatic replies to Maeve’s email about the meeting.

Tapping on the track pad of his laptop to wake it up, he kept reading over the essay as his email came to life, but he waited until he was done to look over at the most recent notifications.

Freezing, Rowan’s eyes flashed over the subject of the email from Maeve three times before he actually had the nerve to open it.

Meeting in my office after your final class of the evening.

We need to have a talk.

*

Aelin felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours.

Which was exactly how long it had been since she had received her text from Rowan.

As someone who was not nervous or paranoid by nature, she hated the feeling of being so freaked out that she was nearly about to vomit. She had already cleaned her apartment once, and was pouring herself a glass of wine as she was deciding what she could clean next. Maybe she would clean out the fridge.

After downing her glass of wine, she did just that, throwing open the refrigerator door and emptying out what had been in there for over a week.

She didn’t even hear the front door open, nor did she hear her roommate and cousin walk into the kitchen.

“Ace?”

Aelin yelped, jumped, and spun around, nearly knocking over her glass of wine on the counter nearby. “What the hell?” she yelled. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Doesn’t anyone realize how fucking rude it is to just barge in?!”

Aedion’s brows shot up as Lysandra stepped forward. “Uh, everything okay?”

Aelin’s face fell into her hands as she leaned against the countertop. “Does it look like everything is okay?” she asked, words muffled.

“What happened?” Lysandra asked, gently prying Aelin’s hands from her face.

Her eyes were still shut, as if she could shut out the world. Taking a deep breath, she released it, answering in one, quick burst. “I think Rowan and I got caught.”

She heard something hit the floor, clearly dropped by Aedion, but Lysandra’s hands went slack on her wrist. “What do you mean?”

Letting her head fall to the countertop, she groaned once before standing up straight and looking at them. Aedion had indeed dropped the bag of pretzels he’d pulled from the cabinet.

“We both had long breaks today, so I stopped by his office to see him for a minute. I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I mean… Yeah, I kinda did. I kissed him first.”

“I don’t need to hear about this. Lys can fill me in,” Aedion muttered, scooping the bag of pretzels off the floor and heading for Lysandra’s bedroom.

“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Aelin sighed after he left. “But we did make out on his desk a bit. It was barely even PG-13.”

“So what happened?” Lysandra asked, getting another glass down and refilling Aelin’s glassed wine and filling one for herself. “How did you get caught?”

“The secretary walked in,” Aelin said, staring at a spot on the hardwood. “She didn’t see anything, we broke apart before the door opened, but… I don’t know. She sounded suspicious, looked suspicious.” Aelin took a sip from her glass. “I mean, seriously, who knocks but doesn’t wait for a come in before they open the damn door? It’s rude as hell.”

“I don’t wait before coming into your room,” Lysandra said.

“That’s different, we live together,” Aelin said, unable to control her chuckle.

Lysandra smiled, but it faded as she shook her head. “That man needs to learn how to lock his office.”

“That’s what I said!” Aelin agreed, and topped off her glass before it was even halfway empty.

“So, what?” Lysandra went on. “She came in but didn’t see anything. Maybe she just always looks suspicious. I’m sure nothing will come out of it.”

Without another word, Aelin took her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. Lysandra slowly picked it up and read Rowan’s text.

Got an email from Maeve. I have to go to her office tonight. Says she needs to talk to me. Sounded urgent.

Aelin had texted back. Did she say what it was about?

No, Rowan had replied. But it doesn’t sound good.

“Have you heard from him since he sent these?” Lysandra asked, setting the phone down.

“No, but we’ve both been in class.” Aelin let her head fall to the countertop again. “He’s supposed to come over after he gets out. But now I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea. What if someone sees him getting here?”

“It’s not all students, and we’re not exactly social butterflies. We don’t know any of our neighbors,” Lysandra said, clearly trying to soothe her.

Aelin just shook her head. “I like him, Lys. A lot. I can see a future with this guy, but… What if this is all too much? It’s too dangerous. We’re jeopardizing our futures.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “The secretive part of your relationship is only temporary. Besides, he’s head over heels for you, too. Would it really be worth it to give that up?”

“What if Rowan is about to lose his job?” Aelin shot back. “Lys, I would never be able to forgive myself. I have to do something.”

“Always the hero,” Lysandra muttered. “Look, the best thing you can do right now is stay here, drink wine, and let it all play out. Rowan is a big boy. He can handle himself.” Aelin said nothing, so Lysandra went on. “I just want to see you happy. Does he make you happy?”

“Beyond. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but… I care about him.”

“And it’s pretty damn clear that he cares about you, so sitting and waiting sucks, but that’s what you’ll have to do.” Lysandra crossed the kitchen and wrapped her best friend up in a hug. Aelin’s forehead fell to her shoulder. “I can send Aedion to get more wine if you want.”

Aelin nodded.

Lysandra chuckled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you—?”

A knock on the front door had Aelin’s head snapping up and she hurried from the kitchen. Throwing open the door, she found Rowan standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, she pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, I’ve been so fucking worried.”

To her surprise, he laughed quietly, and it only caused Aelin to lean back, eyes wide. “What could possibly be funny right now?”

“I’m not I’m trouble,” he whispered, arms going around her waist. “We’re safe, we’re fine.”

Aelin blinked, all anxiety fading from her body only to be replaced with confusion. “Why did Maeve call you into her office, then?”

“She just wanted to check how things were going.” He shrugged. “Being new, and her nephew, she just wanted to check in.”

“Gods, Rowan!” She shoved his chest, lightly. “You couldn’t have texted me that? I’ve been a nervous mess!”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Lysandra mumbled from behind them. “Hi, Professor.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Hi, Lysandra.”

As Lysandra headed towards her room, he looked down to where Aelin was staring at his chest. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His brow furrowed and he was surprised to see silver lining her eyes. “Everything is okay, baby. Why are you crying?”

She shook her head and blinked, but wasn’t able to stop the single tear that spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I thought we got caught, that I had ruined your life.”

His heart nearly broke. “Aelin…” He wrapped her up in his arms again, holding her as tightly as he dared, as if he could keep her from falling apart. After a second, he leaned back so he could look at her, but didn’t let her go. “Being together isn’t a decision that just one of us has made. We both went into this relationship knowing the consequences. If something were to happen, if someone finds out, you aren’t ruining my life.”

Aelin snorted, and framed his face in her hands. “So we’d both be ruining your life?”

“No one’s life will be ruined,” Rowan promised. “I’m going to be with you, Aelin. Now, and when you graduate, we can have a normal relationship, whatever the hell that means. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s a big promise to make so early in our relationship,” Aelin breathed, running her thumbs across his cheeks.

“I have a good feeling about us,” Rowan followed, melting into her touch.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, but pulled back and smirked. “But maybe I’ll start locking my office, just in case you decide to make another unexpected visit.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

The day had stressed them both out, but throughout it all, there was only one thing Rowan could think about: he didn’t know what his future held, but there was one thing for sure.

He wanted Aelin in it.

[pollenat]

SEVENTEEN and 5 ways to say I love you

S.COUPS

Droplets of water resting on his cheeks, reflecting moonlight. The rain has surprised you on an evening walk, and right now you’re standing by the crosswalk, his arms holding the coat above your heads while he stares at the red light. You should be shivering and getting annoyed at the discomfort of wet clothes, but you can’t stop staring at his ethereal side profile.

A gentle smile blossoming on his face whenever you compliment him. It’s so powerful, you can never stare at it long enough. He may say “Of course, I know that.”, but that doesn’t make him any less happy. And when you tell him how great he is in the tough moments, Seungcheol doesn’t respond. Instead, he hides his head under your chin, where he is always welcome to regain confidence and comfort.

Kissing him goodbye when he stops the car by your house. It’s lingering, your arms embracing one another to keep it going as long as possible. Neither of you are ready to part ways, despite the late hour. His hands press at your lower back, and after long minutes of being entwined, you pull away with sadness matching his eyes. Seungcheol grabs you once again, for one last kiss, and then finally lets go, his eyes following you until you disappear inside.

Taking a step back when his voice raises. It’s different - an irritating blaring alarm compared to the sweetness of his usual tone. His eyes are also strange. So stark, you feel the pain they’re meant to inflict. But the hurt doesn’t make you close in on yourself. Instead, it’s like a log to your fire. You need to stand up to it, fuel the useless aggression, even if it will burn you in the end.

Carefully spreading the blues of a face mask on his face. His eyes are closed, and open only when you can’t stop yourself from laughing any longer. “What’s so funny?” you genuinely want to explain, but another look at the numerous pigtails sticking out in different directions forces you to hide in one of his shoulders. “What did you do to my face?” his question is trying to be humorous, but the terror is all too evident in it.

JEONGHAN

The sight of snow covering every surface possible. His voice when he complains about the cold. The redness of his nose poking above the scarf you’re tying around his neck. “You’re being embarrassing.”, but Jeonghan fails at hiding his smile behind the material. He doesn’t know his eyes are betraying him. “Yeah I know”, you answer him, now indifferent to the teasing.

Tired smile decorating his face when he visits you in the evening of your birthday. Training clothes crumpled, hair a mess, shoelaces untied and tucked into the sides. You tell him he didn’t have to, he’s done enough for you and needs rest. But truth be told, you’re selfishly happy to have him here. “If it’s for you, I don’t mind giving up few hours of sleep.” he says with calm certainty.

The times you have to wait for him to acknowledge you because of a petty fight. He’s not the person to back down from one, and you sometimes feel like pulling your fingers out from the amount of frustration you’re going through. You know he’ll eventually relent, let you in, lock you in a tight embrace, if only to ask why didn’t you say anything sooner. You’ll want to pick up the fight again, but what for?

Pieces of clothing he deliberately leaves at your place, so he can tease you whenever you put them on. “I was wondering where it disappeared.” “But you-” “It’s okay. I know how good I smell.” “Jeonghan-” “Shh, you can hold on to it for now.” As much as you want to argue, you end the fight with an angry sigh.

The smell of grass during a sunny day. Tree bark imprinting itself on your back, and Jeonghan’s head weighing down your thigh, his breath calm. There’s no doubt - he’s asleep. The guy could doze off anywhere. Somewhere in the back, a guitarist is playing for tips, light melody mixing with distant chatter. Your hands put away the book, tired of holding it in the air. Instead, you let the strands of Jeonghan’s hair entertain you.

JOSHUA

The cheesiness of slow-dancing in a room illuminated by the moon only. A song you came to like is playing, and Joshua’s voice joins the singer every now and then, before he stops himself. You’d rather listen to him singing. He laughs at the idea. “Don’t be cheesy!” but he can be?

Helping him fix his tie and collar before going to theater. His chin is pointing upwards, but his eyes are set on your face. You aren’t sure what he’s looking for, and the constant observation makes you self-conscious. “Why are you staring at me?” the question makes him smile. You take note of that, but remain busy with the tie. “Just admiring my beautiful plus one.”

Sitting by the table, him in front of you. It’s night time, and you’re both tired. It’s crazy how despite a hectic day, Joshua has managed to make you dinner. “Oh, this? It’s nothing!” was what he said after putting the plates of a complicated dish down. You can’t help, but smile to yourself in silence. Joshua’s foot nudges your underneath the table, and you look up to see him frowning questioningly. “It’s delicious.” has him smiling proudly.

The movie being just a background noise, neither of you interested in what it has to present. Not when you’re cuddled on the sofa, almost (!) sleeping. Joshua has his head tucked under your jaw. His breathing is regular and warm on your neck.Your fingers get tangled in the longer hairs on the top of his head. Eyes finally closing, the last thing you register is the characteristic smell of his shampoo.

Seeing his shoulders closing in on him. Head down, eyes empty, lips shut tight. Your approaching footsteps have no effect on his stature. He’s sitting still in his pose. A hand on his shoulder ends up shaken off. Words directed at him earn no response. After what feels like forever of standing dumbfounded by his side, you take a step back and leave him be. Maybe he needs space. Maybe he will call for you when he’s ready. Maybe, maybe, maybe. One thing is sure - you do feel a little hurt by rejection.

JUN

The weight of his hand on your shoulder when you’re standing in a crowded space. It’s a bit suffocating, you can’t lie. Having Junhui’s protective arm embracing you forces your attention to focus on his presence instead. He can’t bring himself to look at you, sure you’ll tease him. Still, he can feel your admiring glances. “I know, I’m very chivalrous.” leaves his mouth before he can bite his tongue. “Don’t ruin the moment.” “Okay.”

Kissing your forehead numerous times when he notices it’s warm. His jumper is already on your chest, shyly given earlier after you commented the weather. Jun’s cold hand rests on your cheek to check its temperature too. After one last peck he finally declares “You have a fever.” in a bewildered tone.

Opening your phone’s gallery to twenty new selfies that Junhui has taken when you weren’t nearby. They’re almost all the same, but you can’t bring yourself to delete any. Even if it means he gets teasing material. “Obviously, I’m just too good-looking, right babe?” “Oh my god, yes you are, Junhui.” “Exactly.”

A noodle hanging from his mouth, and the suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. You think of the scene that the two of you saw the day before - the connection is obvious. Jun smiles when you hesitate to follow his lead, proud to bring your cheeks the warmth of embarrassment. Then he chokes on the noodle, because you decided to strike back and take the other end in your mouth. As if he was the only one allowed to tease in your relationship.

How odd it is to see him indifferent and actually nervous around you. There’s a fear that it might’ve cemented the incoming end of your relationship. That maybe he wants nothing more to do with you. But Jun’s train of thoughts is far away from the breakup sphere, rather unsure how to make things normal again. It’s only a matter of time, right? And why are you just as strange about everything as him?

HOSHI

Sharing a blanket with each other on the cold wooden boards, your group of friends seated in a circle, as you take turns telling scary stories. Your and Soonyoung’s terrified glances meet every now and then, before he leans on your chest so you can lock hands over his shoulder protectively. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” His giggles at your promise score you numerous scolding looks.

You’re not the first one to notice him. Once his silhouette comes into your view, he’s already jumping in place, flailing his arms in the air for attention. A big smile spreads across his face, pushing his eyes almost shut. Soonyoung mouths something, but you can’t read his lips at all. Then he starts running towards you with arms wide open for embrace. Laughing, you do the same. It is embarrassing, but your suffering ends as soon as your face can hide in his neck.

Spoons of your meal disappearing in his mouth, although his half-finished own is resting right next to it. After five pointed glances, you give up to watch him full-time instead. Soonyoung is clearly enjoying his food. “Why are you not eating?” “I’m full already.” “You and your small stomach!” Him and his big stomach!

The collection of old Halloween couple costume’s you’ve collected over the years. Each worn just once, each as memorable as the previous one. Soonyoung throws himself at the mountain of colorful materials, his lips pouting. “You want to get rid of them? Our memories?!” “They’re taking up too much space.” He groans disgusted. “So?” “Get off and help me pack them.” “Make me!”

His sad eyes following your every move as you walk around the room gathering things. There’s a stark contrast between his watery gaze, and your angry stare. Every few seconds he starts senseless sentences, more a product of desperation than solid argumentation. And then you leave him alone, to get lost in his sad thoughts, to wonder what could’ve been done to avoid the conflict altogether.

WONWOO

Eardrum-bursting noise of speeding cars. You flinch in your spot, then shoot a glare to the man that accidentally sat on remote control. “Wonwoo!” He smiles apologetically once you point out the volume. Sighing, you pick up the phone. Its clock reads 2 a.m, but even the realization doesn’t make you tired. “One more mission, come on!”

No matter when and where you’ve agreed to meet, he’s always the first one to appear. It’s not the nicest feeling - being always waited for - but Wonwoo rejects your attempts at confrontation. He says he’s used to it and prefers things that way. Why worry your head, when it’s all figured out. He doesn’t know that you know that he’s very particular about being the first one everywhere. Talk about chivalry.

The avoidance of physical contact. Yes, you are in a disagreement. Yes, some feelings were hurt. Yes, both of you are mad. The tension is thick, waiting for a knife sharp enough to cut through it. Tired of frowning, you reach for the rock you can always lean on, but the rock moves. You’re pushed away without him pushing, and at that moment the word hurt is redefined.

Summery evening spent by a lake. There’s a picnic table, usually posing nude with its graffiti, today dressed in a checkered cloth. A basket of half-finished lunch rests above all, closed, hopefully keeping the fruit away from insects. You watch another stone skipping the surface of calm water. It’s not a record-breaker, but you still cheer for Wonwoo. Sunset glances off of his glasses when he turns to look back.

Going through the pictures you ordered. A large frame is placed on the other end of the table, the blankness waiting for colors. But it’s been hours, and aside from leaning over the pictured memories, no collection has been decided. Wonwoo’s hand closes over yours when you hand him a particularly funny photograph. His deep hum resonates in appreciation.

WOOZI

The look of bewilderment he puts on when your hand offers him a spoonful of food. You don’t mind the public, only nod at him in encouragement, and although shy, he accepts the offering. “Please, stop doing that.” “I can’t hear you because this stew is so amazingly delicious! You should have a taste once more!” Another spoon glares at him under your innocent gaze.

Hugging him tightly as you’re waiting for sleep to take over. The duvet is too cold for your liking, and Jihoon offers the only source of warmth you accept. You know that in the morning you’ll wake up separated, but for now you plan on enjoying being so close to him. Every now and then he leaves lingering kisses on your forehead without saying a word.

The deepness of bass syncing with your heartbeat. Jihoon is facing away from you, propped on his locked hands and gazing at the computer screen. He always closes off to focus on analyzing his tracks. As much as you want to remain silent and follow his lead, you’re convinced you’ve heard the same tune before. Then you recognize it from Jihoon’s humming a week prior.

His tear-strained face after a big argument. You’re shocked to see him so broken, and all the anger that’s been boiling your blood disappears. Jihoon accepts the embrace, his arms closing on you tightly, as he whispers “Don’t argue with me anymore, please. I don’t want you to leave”.

The day you run up the stairs to his apartment. The neighbors nod at you in mute greetings, all offering smaller or bigger smiles. Your fingers quickly put a memorized code in. The front door opens after you press the handle. There’s a pair of slippers already waiting. Jihoon walks into the hallway to welcome you. His hair is still wet from the shower.

DK

The annoyingly omittable grocery store playlists. They’re so subtle in their existence, you hum, but never remember exactly which melody. That is unless that song comes on. Seokmin who’s been pulling the cart from the side, turns to face you with a knowing smile. “Please, not here.” you ask, but Seokmin just turns away and begins singing along. People look, and you’re both extremely embarrassed and eager to listen to his voice more.

Instead of being angry, like you are, he’s sad. Misery written all over his infuriatingly beautiful face. It’s petty to continue attacking him with hurtful words. The ammo you’ve loaded now just a steam coming from na overheated gun. Seokmin doesn’t speak. He’s silent. It’s as if you’re the only one who can decide when will all the arguing end.

Finding a birthday gift a week before. Seokmin is terrible at hiding things meant for you, and although you’re itching to ask him “Your underwear drawer? Really?” you act as if nothing ever happened. Even if your fun was ruined, you do not wish him the same. He genuinely believes your act of surprise later.

Sitting chest to chest, legs around one another, while you’re brushing his hair. He doesn’t shy away from admitting that this tradition is his favorite one. That’s why you run comb through his locks for way too long, to keep him close, and bask in the familiarity of it all. When your eyes fall down, they always catch his big ones, patiently waiting for you to finish, and gift him a kiss.

A surprise backhug when you’re washing the dishes. Seokmin should be drying them off with a towel, but some time ago he abandoned the task, He’s always been quick to lose interest. His head rests on your shoulder, voice impatiently asking when will it be over. You want to laugh at him. Tell him to get back to work. But then again - you’re enjoying the warmth he’s radiating. Like fire in a chimney.

MINGYU

Styling his hair after he has left the shower. Mingyu giggles hysterically as you put finishing touches to his mohawk. “You could be a punk rock guitarist.” his canines come into full display at the comment. Later he tells you to make him a greaser, with a carefully twisted lock of hair falling down his forehead.

A letter he has written when he realized things weren’t completely alright with you at the moment. A collection of words that to you make much more sense than to any other person. The letter itself can’t take the weight off of your shoulders, but the gentleness of his words, the constant encouragement, and the amount of love confessions do give you a new feeling, this time - a good one.

The giddiness when you know you’ll see him a matter of minutes. And as soon as you do, a smile breaks out, because how can it not? His is similar, just as full of warmth as yours. The only things warmer than it are his welcoming embrace and your cheeks rubbing. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long! You’re not late? Well, I was still waiting to see you!”

The warmest and securest of embraces he offers at any time of the day.  Mingyu may be busy and still take a moment to hug you when things don’t feel quite right. Just a look, a pout, a sigh, a call of his name, or a hand on his shoulder - Mingyu drops whatever it is he’s doing and opens his arms. Most times, as an added bonus, he offers you quick pecks of pure honey. Anywhere he can reach.

Sneaking hands into one another’s sleeves when the weather is cold. It may not be the smartest move, because there’s not much two adults merged in a pose like that can do. Mingyu giggles at the feeling of your ice cold fingers grabbing his arms, meanwhile almost jumping away from you. Only the hold you have on his limbs stops him from parting ways. “You’re too cold! I didn’t sign up for this!” “You’re supposed to warm my hands, so stop complaining!”

THE8

The warmth of his arm as the two you huddle in front of a painting in the museum. Minghao‘s telling you what he thought of when he saw it for the first time. Then he encourages you to share your opinion. His eyes look genuinely curious. “I didn’t think of it like that!”, but you doubt his words. Still, it feels nice to be appreciated and listened to.

His tendency to fall silent in the middle of argument that does nothing to cease your annoyance. In the back of your mind a voice is telling you that it went too far, and you should follow suit, but the wind’s silence can never extinguish a raging fire. Blinded by rage, you throw the book you were holding on the ground, turn around and storm off, ignoring his voice calling your name. “Stop being childish!” annoys you only more.

The first thing you notice while falling into his arms being his perfume. It’s so rich, and so his, you feel safe and right in place before you can sense the plush of his flesh under fingertips. Minghao giggles at your strengthening grip. His ears pick up on your sniffing and after some time of letting you soak in his presence, he makes you look him in the eyes. You can’t argue - who would reject a kiss of adoration from a man like that?

Sharing a piece of cake in a cafe. It’s a red velvet, with strawberries on the side. There’re no words being exchanged, you just steal small smiles in each other’s direction. The cake disappears slowly, each spoon frugal and shy. It’s not that you can’t afford another one. The cake is an object of sentiment - something shared between two close people.

The delicateness of his fingertip on your upper cheek. It swipes to the side and (sadly) leaves. Minghao’s eyes follow his thumb as he transports a lost eyelash to the front of your lips. “Make a wish.” he says with a gentle smile. Heart fluttering, you struggle to glue together a proper plead. It’s the first dream that came up and you have nothing better to offer. Then you blow the eyelash into the air. Please world, make it happen.

SEUNGKWAN

Trivial words that hurt like a stabbing knife. Now, instead of blood, they’re a source of all-consuming guilt. Even if the argument was mutual, you want to take everything back, because the present feels empty without Seungkwan. Your phone lights up with a message before you can drown yourself in sorrow. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” and tomorrow you hope to see him.

A band-aid that’s turned useless, but cannot be taken off. It’s what remains of Seungkwan’s touch, before he left for work overseas. The material is dirty, and sticking out at ends, and you should just get rid off it, because it’s a stupid reason to hold on to. Yet here you are - just pressing it down every five minutes in silent acceptance.

Poking your head into the hallway. TV is playing in the background, but a singing voice breaks through the noise. You smile in recognition and slowly make your way forward, towards the bathroom door. Seungkwan is in the middle of a shower. Happy to catch him off-guard, you sit down by the wall and listen. No plead is enough to make him sing consciously in your presence.

The melted chocolate you forgot to hide in the fridge. Seungkwan is scowling at his fingertips, sunk in the dark brown smudge. From his eyes alone you can tell he’s about to start scowling you. “Don’t be such a baby! Just go wash them!” He’s about to argue, but you push him out of the kitchen. “We wasted perfectly good chocolate!” We? That’s a first. Although he left, you hear him smacking lips. Seungkwan couldn’t allow the sweets to just waste.

An empty sofa to your side. A soft rug in front of you. Pillows thrown around the room. And yet, you and him are sitting huddled on the armchair, something designed for one (1) user. Seungkwan has his head lying on your shoulder. You’re too engrossed in TV to notice his lack of attention to the show. With passing moments his mouth moves closer to your neck, eyes on your side profile, hands on your hip.

VERNON

Seeing him in a badly sewn beanie that you wouldn’t have given to him if he hadn’t found it in your kitchen cupboard. It’s a mess of unfinished threads and misplaced crosses. Still, Vernon assures you that he loves it. “I look pretty cool in it, right?”, the earnest smile put on display. You look for the signal of a lie, but between the messy fringe, and the perfect pearls on display, you can’t find even a trace of it.

The moment he pulls away for a breather, his eyes hooded, lips swollen. It’s afternoon, though you do not care about the time. You marvel at the shadows, dancing with purple light on his face, but can only take a mental picture. His mouth is quick to return to yours, hands right behind it. The buckle of your belt clings with the button of his jeans.

Standing on a beach during a cold afternoon. The wind plays with whatever it can touch - waves, strands of hair, the lightest grains of sand. Above the howls you can hear Vernon’s breathing. He doesn’t say anything, maybe listening to the same things as you, maybe thinking about the things beyond. But his presence triumphs over the coldness.

The feeling of being watched that pops up randomly. Always with him, always when he’s sure you’re too busy to notice, always without a word spoken, always in your peripheral vision. You can’t tell whether he just gets lost in thoughts or is admiring you, but you never point it out. Others do it for you.

The buzz of adrenaline surging through your veins when he closes the door behind him. He’s mad, but doesn’t use the piece of wood to have the last sound. He rarely raises his voice, never shows anger through strength, never takes it out on the inanimated objects. The observation instantly causes you to miss him. But you can’t decide which feeling you should listen to - fresh anger, or even fresher loneliness.

CHAN

His voice reaching your ears through the phone every night, without a day off. Sometimes it’s tired, sometimes excited, but always there. He protests whenever you tell him to just hang up and go rest. “Don’t you want to talk with me?” “Of course I do. But you sound sleepy.” “Just five more minutes!” A long silence, and then a sigh. “Alright.”

The times when the only source of comfort he accepts is your embrace. You’re lying on the couch, arms opened for his frowning face. Not a full second passes, and he’s placed on top of you, nose in the crook of your neck, hands on your sides, legs digging underneath yours. Questions are avoided with simple I missed you’s.

Collecting tears down his jawline. Offered hug is rejected, but his pushing hands are weak, unsure in their movement. You can read him like a book, though you do not admit that aloud. He wants you to stay and comfort him. Cling to him despite his attempts at rejection. Chan sniffles. This time when your arms circle him, he does nothing to stop them.

The embarrassment you have to bite down. You’re just as flattered, but the latter feeling is much easier to hide. People are watching, some giggling, honestly enjoying the show,  some are feeling for the position you’re put in. Chan is still smiling widely, his pupils full of adoration. Too scared to do anything else, you decide to hide in his arms, already opened for an embrace. He’s the best type of both lovely and shameless.

Skipping down the stone stairs hand in hand. The rain has made a prompt run to shelter out of your slow afternoon walk. Suddenly, you can feel his fingers pulling at yours. Not down the stairs, but to his side. Chan slips. It’s a split second, somehow long enough to push heart up your throat. He manages to lean on the other leg to regain balance. Again, for a moment. Chan jumps down the last few stairs, straight into a puddle of rain water, successfully spraying you with the small tidal wave created from the impact. “I’m sorry!” but he laughs, so is he really?

➛ pollenat’s list of reactions

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[ellethinblue]

Missing Heart (Isaac Lahey/Reader)

I wrote a little something, I’m pretty sure no one will read it but it’s here and it’s cheesy while also a bit angsty.

I use female pronouns

1,971 words

-----

He had left without a word.

He had talked to her that day, the day he left, and he didn’t say anything about moving away.

She went to Scott’s house the next day to look for him.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“I’m sorry… he moved to France.”

Nothing would have prepared her for the feeling of her heart stumbling across the wooden floor, as if searching for him.

He called her when he’d gotten settled, knowing that she would be confused and hurt but the call just went to voicemail. He considered leaving a voicemail, but realized that if she didn’t want to answer his calls, she’d delete a voicemail at the sight of his name or a foreign number. He called Scott asking if he could find out why she wouldn’t answer his calls.

“She said that if there was anything you wanted to tell her, you should have told her before you left.”

Whenever anyone talked about their past adventures, and his name would come up, she didn’t close herself off. Instead she would speak of those memories with a smile, to give the illusion of being fine, but her heart had withered while trying to find a way to him.

No one suspected a thing, fooled by smiles and laughter.

That is, until between life-threatening situations, she had managed to arrange a successful sleepover between the whole pack. Her phone had been laying on the table between them all, she had been talking to Lydia when her phone buzzed. She hadn’t noticed it, but her hyperactive friend did.

“Hey someone’s calling you.” Stiles called to her.

She turned from her conversation with a smile, but it faded when she saw the number. “Thanks.” She grabbed the phone and declined the call, turning off her phone before turning back to Lydia and continuing their conversation as if nothing had happened.

Scott noticed the number as Stiles handed her the phone, saw the quick flash of pain and annoyance in her eyes before it disappeared. And he realized, maybe his friend wasn’t truly okay.

“Please pick up.” Isaac muttered as he called her for probably the thousandth time.

“You’d think you would have gotten it through your head by now.” She muttered to herself as she saw the incoming call again.

Decline

She’d had reached her breaking point when instead of calling, he texted her an essay. She didn’t read it, she deleted after marking it as read.

“Here save my new number.” She told her friends.

“Why do you have a new number?” Lydia asked, subtly glancing at Scott, who had questioned her about their friend.

“Changed provider, it was cheaper.” She easily responded.

“The number you have dialed is not in service, please check the number and try your call again.”  

“Fuck!” Isaac yelled as the phone fell out of his grip and onto the bed.

He had pushed her with the message. He knew it. Or maybe she had been in danger and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

He shouldn’t have left her.

“Hello?” Scott answered.

“Is she okay?” Isaac immediately asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?”

“Her phone isn’t in service.”

“She changed her number.”

“Oh.”

“Hey man, sorry, but these calls are expensive.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Isaac muttered before hanging up.

There was a knock on her door one weekend when she was alone.

“Hey.”

“Scott? Is something wrong?” She immediately asked at his curious expression. She motioned him in, seeing Stiles looking over from his kitchen window next door. She shrugged her shoulders at his raised eyebrows.

“You changed your number.” Scott stated when they were both seated.

“Yeah… we were texting last night, what about it?”

“But it wasn’t because it was cheaper, was it?”

“Yes it was.” Scott was confused for a moment, realizing she wasn’t lying, but he remembered his own conversation with Isaac.

“Isaac called me last night, worried that something had happened to you, because your phone wasn’t in service.” She didn’t respond, “and long distance calls are expensive. You never picked up the phone but he always called you.” She looked down at her trembling hands. “And it hurts because he left without saying anything.” She nodded, tears filling her eyes but not falling. “Maybe you should talk to him, and get the closure you need, not for his sake, but for yours.”

“Everything I want to say to him, I want to say face to face. There’s nothing I want to say through a call or through text. And there’s nothing I’m willing to listen from him through a call, or even through text.”

“Has he? Texted you I mean.” She nodded, “what did he say?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know, I deleted it, if he can’t say it to my face, its lies.”

Scott nodded in understanding before getting up from his own seat, but instead of heading to the door, he sat at her side and held her.

The dam behind her eyes broke and the tears flooded her face.

“I loved him Scott, I loved him so damn much, and he just left as if I didn’t matter.” She sobbed. “Why would he do that to me?” Her voice cracked with the pain she felt.

“I don’t know.” Scott murmured as he held her shaking body, rubbing her back in reassurance.

Isaac never called any of them again.

What he did do, was fly back home.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” Scott told him after Isaac knocked on his door.

“I- I have to try.”

Before going to her house, Isaac stopped by a florist, buying her white roses, he stopped by a market, buying her favorite snacks, and he stopped by her favorite restaurant, buying her favorite meal. When he arrived at her house, he noticed the light of her room being the only one on, meaning her parents were out of town as they always were. He knocked on her door, and when she opened the door, he couldn’t help but stare. He was only knocked out of his reverie when the door slammed shut.

He heard the thumping of her heart through the door.

Her heart was there, at his feet, jumping in joy as if to say ‘Look! I found him!’ But her heart had been gone for far too long, was that still what she wanted?

Was he still who she needed?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I will spend my whole life apologizing to you, just please let me in.” He begged.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to slap him.

She wanted to hold him.

She wanted to yell.

She sat on the stairs in front of the door, staring at it as if he would magically not be there. But she could hear him pacing, and see him running his hand through his hair through the frosted glass.

“Please open the door. I just- I need to see you.”

“Have you ever considered what I need?”

“No. God, I know I’ve been beyond selfish, and I’ve never deserved you, but please give me a chance to speak. You said there’s nothing you want to hear from me that isn’t face to face. This is me here for that, for you.”

The door opened a second after he finished speaking, and he stepped back shocked that what he had said had worked.

She hadn’t expected to see tears speeding down his face.

“I brought you flowers.” He murmured, as his eyes roamed her face.

“Um, thanks.” She said, hesitantly grabbing the flowers from his awkwardly extended hand. “Come in.”  

Isaac picked up everything he had brought and stepped into the house. “I also brought you food and some snacks, um, Scott told me that you were supposed to eat with the them today but assumed you wouldn’t go, because well- because of me… Is that Scott’s sweater?” Isaac said after his attention wouldn’t leave the sweater that hung off her shoulders.

“Yes, it is, does it matter?” She snapped as she sat on the same couch where Scott had consoled her.

“No, no. Sorry. It doesn’t matter,” Isaac rushed out as he sat across from her. “Actually, it does matter, to me it does, are you with him? Are you two together now?”

“It shouldn’t matter, you left. But no, we’re not.” With her words it was as if a weight lifted off his shoulders.  

“I made a mistake. And I wish I could take it back. I never should have left Beacon Hills. I never should have left you. It got to me, it was too much-“

“And it wasn’t too much for us? For Stiles, for Scott, for me? Stiles and I are just human and we’ve been in this mess since Peter bit Scott. And yeah, losing our normal lives, and losing our friends has been too much for us, but we do it together. Because together we’re stronger. And you just left, as if our pack didn’t matter.”

“The pack does matter to me, I needed some time away from Beacon Hills.”

“Did I matter to you?”

“Yes! So much!”

“Then why would you leave without telling me? I was your girlfriend and you didn’t tell me!” Her chest heaved as she yelled.

“I don’t know. I don’t- I really don’t know.”

“Please just get out. If that’s the answer I get for you stomping all over my heart, you shouldn’t have come back.”

“No, I can do better!”  

They heard the door being unlocked and in stepped Stiles, “Hey I heard yelling, is everything ok- oh.” Stiles froze at seeing Isaac’s familiar curly hair facing away from him and seeing her teary eyes staring straight at him. “I was heading to the jeep when I heard yelling. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt… whatever is going on here…. I’m… just gonna… go. I’ll call you later.”

“Yeah. Thanks Stiles.”

After Stiles was gone, Isaac turned to look at her, “I can’t promise you that I’ll never hurt you again, because I’m not a good person and honestly I don’t know why you hadn’t left me-“

“Before you left me.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you left then? Because you didn’t think you deserved me?”

Isaac realized that that was the true reason he had left, and the realization showed on his face, “It was.”

“Life isn’t about deserve, we choose that which we care about and hold on tight. You think all this bad stuff that happens to us in Beacon Hills is because we deserve it? Do you think people deserve to die? Do you think that I deserved what you did to me? No. People deserve much better than they get, but they get what they need and sometimes what they want. And I needed you.”

“Do you?”

“Do I still need you?” Isaac hesitantly nodded, “No.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t need you Isaac. I needed you then.”

“Right… Um, I guess I’ll go.” Isaac got up and started walking to the door.

Her heart ran away from Isaac and threw itself at her chest.

“But I do love you.” Isaac’s head snapped in her direction. “And, I’m really going to hate myself if I let you walk away. Because I do want you in my life.” She stood up from her seat.

“I love you.” Isaac breathed out as he stepped towards her, “I love you so much.”

He tried kissing her, but she put her hands up, “I love you, but if you do something that stupid again, I don’t care that you’re a werewolf I will kick your ass and make Lydia a wolf fur scarf.”

“I know.” Isaac chuckled as a happy tear sped down his face.

Her heart hugged his heart, shining gold as their people embraced.

--

I couldn’t help but make it a happy ending, I just love that man.

[dewykth]

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle​​​ and @dewykth​​​ collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj  word count. 7.5k+  warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr​​​​ !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳  i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter. 

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head. 

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry. 

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel. 

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation. 

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go?  Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

[uwurakax]

teardrops on my guitar ♡

pairing: semi x f!reader ♡

genre: angsty // unrequited love // pining ♡

summary: it was like the plot of any rom com; two kids, a boy and a girl who were best friends since childhood and inseparable. you fell in love with him, and maybe he could’ve loved you too. such a shame he grew feelings for someone else ♡

word count: 1.7k ♡

author’s note: i love the pretty setters so much why am i doing this t-t which one next? lolol jk - not proofread sry. also wtf tryna write this on the train then some nub slams into my seat from behind dude u wot ♡

♡ (inspired by teardrops on my guitar by taylor swift) ♡

“What’s this?”

“A flower duh”

“But.. why...?”

“My dad gives them to my mum. He says he loves her after”

“But why are you giving it to me?”

“Because we love each other right?”

“Yeah”

“And one day we’ll get married and stuff”

“Hahaha, yeah! And then you give me all the flowers!”

A sweet memory, one from many years prior had always managed to pop into your mind at the most random times. You wished it didn’t, an adorable and innocent reminiscence had no place here, only offering confusion and complications. Semi Eita is your best friend, you wouldn’t let your feelings ruin your friendship with him.

Sometimes you’d wonder what would happen if you did actually confess to him. Wondering if he actually did remember the childish promise the two of you made. Neither of you had known of the power and meaning of the words uttered between you at barely 6 years old. The innocence of it all turned into something different.

Something deeper.

You also wondered if he would’ve looked at her. It was way too easy to fall into the mindset of ‘if I had told him, would he have looked at me the way he does her?’. ‘If I said my feelings sooner, could he have held me the same?’.

If I had told Semi I loved him, would he kiss me like that too?

There was way too many ifs going through your head, it was a marvel you could concentrate on anything else. At least during these moments your heart had some reprieve, a minuscule break of the pain you had to endure everyday you saw him with her.

Everyday during lunch, she sat next to him. The couple sitting opposite you at the table and you absolutely loathed it. It didn’t seem fair, the two of them being all lovey dovey, the sight of a picture perfect couple. Flaunting the perfect love they shared to anyone and everyone who saw. It just sucked that you were in the front row.

Everyday at practice she was there, cheering on Semi. Her yells and squeals echoing against the court walls. They easily overshadowed your silent ones. She’d jump excitedly next to you, clapping and screaming for the team. If you squinted, you could’ve pretended that the warm smile he threw over at the both of you was for you only.

You knew better though. Knew that any affection of love held was hers, and only hers. Knew the cheeky winks and blown kisses were reserved only for her. Knew that the uncontrollable feelings you felt for your best friend would never be reciprocated.

For only small moments, you could delude yourself into believing that Semi Eita had loved you the way you loved him.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Jogging towards you, you handed Semi his water bottle, a small smile tugging on your lips. He wasn’t looking at you though. Honestly he never looked at you anymore, not with her around. Even when she wasn’t his eyes scanned for her. Like nothing else even mattered as long as she was there.

You had to hold back a sigh, quietly watching as he stared at her with such loving eyes. You wanted to hate it. Absolutely despise the way he looked at her, but you couldn’t. He looked so happy. Like a scene from a romance movie, he eyed her as if she was the sun, and everything just revolved around her. The whole nine yards of feeling goosebumps and a quickening heartbeat, Semi felt it all.

You wondered if she even knew the adoration he held for her. Despite her back being turned, despite the fact that she was engaged in conversation with someone else, Semi was undeniably smitten.

“You know, I think she’s the one” Semi whispered to you. This was the harsh reality of it all. No matter how much you wished, Semi Eita just wasn’t meant for you.

“You think so?” You tried to hide your exhaustion, numbness taking over your body. You could still feel the pinpricks of heartache however, no matter how much you tried to push it down. And sooner or later, it would overwhelm you until you buried your face into your pillow and cried til you fell asleep. That was a problem for future you though.

“Yeah, I do” he smiled wistfully at her, your heart fracturing little by little. You knew that look all too well. The look of longing, admiration and pure love. Recognised it all to well, because it was the way you looked at him. In class, at lunch and during practice. Whenever he wasn’t looking, you’d lower your wall by the tiniest bit.

You weren’t unknown to the fact that she looked at him exactly the same way too.

Whenever he was concentrating on his work, his serves or chatting with his friends, she’d gaze at him with the same affection that was unknown to Semi himself. It wasn’t hard to be envious. Not just because you were in love with Semi too, but to find something so special was so incredibly rare.

“I’m really happy for you Semi, I’m glad you found her.” You looked away, not wanting Semi to see your face. Sure that if he saw your eyes, he’d see the heartbreak swimming beneath the glistening tears that had just barely started to form.

“Semi!” You heard her squeal, bouncing her way to the both of you and throwing herself in his arms. It truly was unfair how they seemed to meld together so well. Like ying and yang, the moon and tides. You couldn’t have one without the other, so complimentary in existence.

You tuned them out, not wishing to subject yourself to anymore heartache for the day.

“You should join us Y/N! We don’t hang out much and I wanna get to know Semi’s best friend more” she smiled. Her wonderfully radiant smile beamed at you. Pearly whites shining under the lights, it was like God himself blessed her, an invisible spotlight on her at all times. Guess God really did have favourites, and she was impeccable.

“Ah I’d love to but I really have to get this homework done or I never will. Plus don’t wanna intrude” you shyly said. You didn’t know how much you would’ve been able to take.

“Alright fine but next time! Gotta promise ‘kay?” She giggled and snuggled up to Semi’s side.

“Of course, it’s a promise”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You were slow packing up your books and pens, the lunch bell normally alerting your body to speed your way to your lunch table to prolong the little break you did get.

When you finally did make it to your friends, you noticed Semi hadn’t arrived yet, and the only open seat was next to her. With a quiet sigh, you reluctantly sat down.

Opening your school bought bento, you picked at the egg, too exhausted from everything and just not being in the mood to eat.

“Y/N, you alright?” Her super sweet and feminine voice rang in your ear. Honestly, it was just grating to you now. You plastered on a fake smile.

“Yeah, sorry just super tired” you continued to stare at your food, probably looking like you hated the mix of meat and vegetables. Just for today, you didn’t want to pretend to be okay. Pretending that you were happy for your best friend. Pretending that you weren’t in love with him. Pretending that you didn’t hate his girl even though she did nothing to warrant any form of hatred from you.

“Guess who!” You saw Semi over your shoulder, playfully covering her eyes and hiding one arm behind is back. She giggled out his name, pulling his arm off and giving him a quick peck. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, their public display of affection eating away at you, and making you more infuriated and annoyed.

Semi pulled a beautiful bouquet from his back and handed them to her, her eyes widening in surprise.

Flowers huh?

“Wow Semi, these are gorgeous! But you didn’t have to..” she stared starstruck, unable to look away at the assortment of flora. Pinks, reds and whites decorated the bouquet, and were wrapped in a gorgeous purple cellophane.

“I know, I wanted to. You do give flowers to the person you like right?”

And just like that, your heart completely shattered.

She gave Semi another peck, thanking him for the thoughtful gesture.

You quickly arose from your seat, throwing your napkin and chopsticks into your bento, packing it up and quietly leaving the table.

“Hey, where are you going?” Semi called out to you, both of them looking at you curiously.

“Sorry, just need to go to the bathroom real quick” and you scurried off, throwing away your barely eaten meal with a bit more force than necessary.

When you finally made it to the bathrooms, you slammed the door and leaned your back against it. You started to inhale deeply, the once cute memory that brought you happiness now only gave you pain. You pulled the toilet lid down and sat, not caring if it wasn’t as hygienic as it should’ve been.

Curling your knees into your chest, you buried your face in them and let out the anguish and hurt that had been waiting to spill over. The hot burning tears that you only had yourself to blame for, because you were the idiot who fell in love with their best friend.

You cried until your eyes felt swollen and heavy, the constant friction of repeated rubs on the sleeve of your blazer added to the redness in your eyes. You looked down at your black polished school shoes, unaware of how much time had actually passed. It didn’t matter anyway.

Steadily, you got up from the seat. Once you left this bathroom stall, you’d never cry over Semi Eita ever again. You’d be the best friend, the one who would always be happy for him; and you wouldn’t fake it this time. You’d actively and attentively listen to him about his relationship, no longer going to feel bitter. You’d smile and cheer, and be the most supportive you could be, how you should be. They deserved that.

You’d let Semi go.

Perhaps tonight, with the newly made promises to yourself, you’d finally be able to get some sleep.

[nicolewoo]

Yo, Jamie!!! It’s almost done.

Pairing: King Roman Reigns X Female reader

Warnings: None

My average day was a controlled chaos. Everyone wanted an audience with the king, and I had to know what issues were pressing, which nobles I could and couldn’t talk to, and a million other details. All of these things weighed on me daily. Now, with my mother and the church pressing me to take a bride, I’d reached a breaking point.

 After I had yelled at a servant for no reason, Charles the Lord of Sussex and my most trusted advisor and friend, suggested we take a few hours to go riding this morning. He’d been right, too. A few hours away from the castle and the nobles was exactly what I needed.

 We’d tried to slip out before the sun rose so we could avoid anyone, but as we prepared to leave the grounds, the Captain of the Guard saw us. Christopher was a tall lanky man with almost no hair anymore and an unfortunate habit of rubbing his face when he was nervous. Now, as he insisted that the king should not ride un-escorted, his hand brushed over his face repeatedly.

 “Your highness, we have hundreds of nobles arriving this week. I’m afraid there will be more thieves in the forest. I’ve got plenty of guards on the road, but if you’ll be avoiding the road,” he eyed me suspiciously, knowing I never stayed on the road, “I insist you take a couple of guards.”

I begrudgingly agreed but told the guards to stay far back from us unless we encountered other people.

Charles and I enjoyed a very peaceful ride, stopping once for a cleansing swim in a river and to eat some bread and cheese Charles packed. “My friend, you’ve done me a great service today.” I said as I lounged shirtless on a patch of grass soaking in the sun.

 Charles cocked his head a bit as if surprised to hear a compliment. “It’s my pleasure, sire. You needed a break.”

 “I guess we should head back.” I admitted as I stood and finished getting dressed. Charles finished a minute before me and packed up the rest of the food. Once mounted on my horse, I hesitated to leave. “I wish I could do this every day, like we did when we were kids.”

 Charles smiled at me. “You were never destined to a life of leisure, Your Highness. God chose you to be a wise and fair king who is building a greater country and a greater world.” He whistled to the guards I’d forgotten were even with us, and they mounted their horses to follow us. “Besides, you’d be miserable if you lived a quiet, boring life.” We both laughed.

 Finding a slow trot, Charles and I continued talking, mostly about Charles’s sexual conquests. As a young, unmarried titled man, he had his choice of lovers in the court, and none of them ever kept his attention for more than a few months. Knowing I’d be married off one day in a probable political move, I’d chosen to be much less adventurous. I’d enjoyed the affections of a couple of women, but I never knew if it was because they liked me or the idea of becoming a queen. Now that I was king, I was too busy, too stressed, too careful. I noticed the ladies at court. There were a couple of fetching noble women, but none that sparked anything even close to passion.

 I knew it was time to marry. I wanted to get married, but for love. Instead, women from around the world were invading my castle, and I was to meet every single one of them in a week-long quest to find a wife. Not only would my attendance be necessary at every meal and every social occasion, I was to meet each potential candidate in person and in private (with a chaperone), a task I was dreading. Meeting after meeting of women throwing themselves at my feet trying to become the next queen.

 “Are you ok, highness?” Charles’s voice broke me out of my worry.

 “Just thinking about this week.” I admitted to him.

 Charles thought for a moment before talking. “I envy you. You’ll have your choice of women. If I were you, I’d bed whichever ones I wanted. You could have a wife and mistress by the end of the week.”

 Of course, he was excited about the prospect of more women at court. “My friend, I believe you’re going to bed many of them this week.” I chuckled.

 Charles laughed with me, “Not until Your Royal Highness has ruled them out as your future queen.”

 “Well then, I’ve finally found the worth of being a king. I don’t have to accept your discarded women.” I stopped my horse at a river so both of us could drink. Charles pulled up besides us and jumped off his horse too.

 Charles’s laugh rang out over the forest. “Would that be so bad?”

 “Your prowess is well known, and I’ve seen ladies after you’ve spent an evening with them. I’d be afraid I’d disappoint.” I said.

 Charles smiled shyly. “Sire, you know whomever you choose must be pure.”

 I laughed now, “Are there any pure women anymore?”

 “On my oath sire, I’ve tried to ensure there are no virgins in this country. That’s why we are importing new virgins from other countries to meet you.” Charles teased before becoming serious. “I have a great feeling about this week, sire. I honestly think you’ll meet a fetching young bride from some exotic country that needs an alliance with us and you’ll find some measure of joy in your marriage.”

 “An alliance?” I looked down in disappointment and patted my mare on the neck reassuringly. “I’m afraid that’s all my marriage will be about.”

 “I’m telling you sire,” Charles said as he bent low to fill his water skin, “I believe you will find someone who will give you a cordial marriage.”

 “Cordial? I guess love is too much to hope for.” I hopped back on my horse.

 Charles mounted his horse too and we began a slow trot through the woods. “That’s what the mistress is for.” I knew he was jesting, but the seriousness of the whole situation fell on me again as we rode.

 Why was I forbidden to marry for love? Why was I born to be king? “Let’s speak of other things. Our ride was supposed to distract me.”

  Charles was always quick to raise my spirits. “The delegation from the Arabian Peninsula is bringing you a dozen stallions when they arrive. It’s said their horses are the best.”

At my happy expression he continued. “As soon as they arrive, I’ll let you know. Maybe you can find a few free moments to go see them.”

That sounded great. “Thank you. Not just for letting me know when the horses arrive. Thank you  for today. I needed this.” Charles gave me a respectful nod as his answer. I inhaled the forest air, trying to etch the memory of it into my mind to carry me through this busy week.

“Care to race, Your Highness?” Charles challenged. I didn’t answer but tapped my horse’s side to gallop full speed. I heard Charle’s call of “Not fair.” As I took the lead. He caught up quickly and we raced for a long while.

Realizing I was only hastening my journey back to the castle and my royal obligations, I slowed us down again and we rode in silence for a few short minutes before we heard the ping of metal hitting metal.

“Let the guards go first” Charles suggested.

Metal on metal usually meant swords, so I agreed. I motioned to the guards, and they rode ahead of us for a minute. As we neared the top of a hill, one of the guards motioned that it was safe. I looked ahead and saw a carriage with a wheel off on the King’s Road. “Let’s go help.” I said to the guards.

Peter, a thin young guard with messy hair and a patchy beard answered. “Your Highness, I can take care of this.” He motioned to the younger guard next to him. “William can protect you on the way to the castle if you’d like.”

In that carriage was surely one of my potential brides coming to the castle to meet with me. Yes, I wanted to escape, but maybe I could sneak a peek. If she was fetching, it could go a long way to easing my fears. If she was unattractive, at least I’d be prepared for my meeting with her. I trotted closer to the guard and took in the whole scene in front of me.

Not only had the wheel fallen off; it was stuck under the now emptied carriage. The ladies in waiting and an elderly man I assumed was the driver were seated on a blanket off to the side while what seemed to be the lady of the carriage tried to lift the vehicle.

She’d managed to get a small log on a rock and was trying to pry the carriage up using her body weight. It wasn’t working, but from where I was standing, I got a full view of a truly amazing bottom swaying with her efforts. I was so amused, I pondered not offering her help just to see how she’d do.

 Just as I was about to speak, she defiantly stuck her chin out and looked around my guards locking her eyes on me. “Must I ask for assistance or will it be offered?” She spit the words out like weapons.

 She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, despite the dirt all over her and hair falling out of it’s restrains and trailing down her neck. Her dress was beautiful despite the oil and dirt covering it. It was wrecked though.  

 She dabbed at some sweat on her forehead with a ragged piece of cloth and ended up smearing dirt on her face.

 Charles leaned forward a bit, “It will do you well to watch your tone in front of...”

 I interrupted, “The Lord of Sussex.” I had stolen Charles’s title, and he gaped after me in confusion. I shot him a look that convinced him to keep quiet.

 She seemed more contrite now. “My apologies, My Lord.” She curtsied a bit.

 I smiled down at her. “Think nothing of it.” I looked at Charles now. “Mister Brandon, Shall we assist this damsel in distress?”

 Charles smiled. “Yes your Lordship.” We dismounted and handed the reigns of our horses to the elderly driver.

 We made short work of lifting and replacing the wheel. After a quick survey of the road, the guards found a missing bolt. With that in place, the carriage would be fine.  

 “Why have I not seen you in court?” I asked as I held the carriage still While Charles and the guards.

 She exhaled haughtily “I’m afraid I’m not very welcome at court, nor do I care to go to court.”

 I lifted my brow “And why is that my lady?” I tried to suppress a laugh. She was so direct, so plain-spoken, unlike most of the women at court. Court could probably do well to have some women with backbones like her. It would at least make court more interesting.

  “I have an unfortunate habit of telling the truth.” I laughed hnow. Seeing that I was genuinely amused, Charles relaxed and laughed too.

 “Well now, telling the truth is a virtue, even at court.” I smiled as Charles chuckled under his breath.

 “My Lord, I’ve seen many things in court, but virtue isn’t one of them.”

I leveled her with my gaze. “Are you saying The King lacks virtue?”

 I caught a brief glimpse of annoyance in her voice.  “I said nothing of the kind!”

 “Are you saying the courtiers are without virtue?” I asked.

She blanched when she realized that as a Lord, I could be a regular at the palace. “My apologies My Lord. No. I simply meant that matters of piety are not a priority to all who attend the court.”

 I glanced over at Charles who was laughing under his breath at her stubbornness.” This is a fun game and one I didn’t want to end just yet.

 “Well, gentle lady, would 2 non-virtuous gentlemen of The King’s Court offer their assistance to a lady in distress?” I asked as I gestured to her now repaired carriage.

 “I tell you truly, sirs, that many in His Magesty’s Court would not assist, but to serve their own purposes.”

 I walked a step closer to her in a show of power, but instead of looking away, she stared me straight in the eye defiantly. “And what, pray tell, do I have to gain from helping you today?”

 “My Lord, I didn’t mean any offence to you or your friend.” She nodded to our party. “You have indeed done me a great favor today.”

 Was she finally breaking? “And what have I asked in return?”

 She smiled now. She was breathtaking when she smiled.

 @mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole @wickedsunfire

[taeminstetrislips]

School Trip Series-Italy Pt. 1

Johnny, Jaehyun, Xiaojun, Sungchan, and Renjun x (fem)reader

Rome

You finally arrive at the Rome Ciampino Airport. The first official steps you take on Italian soil... or... concrete. Your group from school gathers together for a quick head count and then to the travel bus to pack your luggage. After gathering on the bus, you almost choose to sit next to a random girl you had become acquainted with earlier. This trip was put together by one of your college professors who offered to take the students from his European Art History classes. However, only a few from your specific class time chose to come and most of the people were from other class periods. Before you commit to a seat partner, you hear your name being called from the back of the bus. You look up to see that the voice belongs to Johnny. He’s so loud this early in the morning, probably because he’s already on his second coffee, but you’re grateful for the invitation and choose to sit next to him. He was sort of the class clown and you’re flattered that he remembers you. His group of friends had some familiar faces in it as well. Xiaojun was the one that always got picked on before class started and constantly asked the professor questions during the tests; Sungchan was quiet but you recognized his face and only remembered his name because of attendance every morning; and Renjun was one of the visual arts majors that always offered a really interesting perspective on the composition of paintings.

“Thanks for sitting with me, these losers all ditched me for each other. I was worried I would have to sit with that girl from class who doesn’t shower,” Johnny says, causing the memory to resurface of the girl when you sat next to her the first day. You even had to change the unofficial-official seating chart the next class period to avoid her. That definitely wouldn’t be an issue here because these guys smelled surprisingly good. You couldn’t pin down whose cologne it was that was so nice.

“Is she on this trip?” you ask.

“I thought so. Maybe it wasn’t her,” he responds. You stand up to look around for her quickly but can’t see much beyond the other students loading the bus. Your eyes land on the person sitting next to Xiaojun and realize you don’t recognize him.

“Hi, I don’t know you yet. My name is Y/n.” You hold out your hand to shake his and take in the way his dimples deepen as he smiles and introduces himself back to you.

“Jaehyun,” he says. You sink back down into your seat after releasing his hand.

Johnny explains that all five of them were supposed to take the class together but Jaehyun’s schedule got changed somehow and he had to take it at a different time.

Xiaojun hugs Jaehyun from behind and says, “We missed him but it’s okay because we convinced him to come on the trip with us.”

“He even worked part-time with me at the front desk of the University Center to save up some money,” Sungchan chimes in.

As the bus lurches forward to start your journey, you start up a conversation by asking everyone what they major in and what year in college they were in. Your discussion is interrupted by your professor standing and announcing that he has a story.

“Now don’t be too worried but I may be a wanted criminal at our first location,” he begins. Multiple students interject with sounds of humor and surprise. You aren’t too shocked as he has often told your class stories of his rebellious past. It’s always the 400 level professors. “This happened a long time ago so don’t judge me too harshly. But, when I traveled to Rome the first time, I actually stole a small chunk of it.” A few students gasp. “Yes this is illegal. Please don’t do what I did, dear God. But I did get away with it.”

Some random person asks, “Why though?”

“Well you see there was this girl I was flirting with and long story short, I did it to impress her.” You can tell he’s a little embarrassed and most of the students are laughing at him. He says that the moral of the story is that airport security is better now than it was back in the 80s and you’ll probably be caught and arrested if you try to do it.

The trip doesn’t take too long and before you know it, you’re stepping out into beautiful Rome. You have a bit of a walk before you make it to the first stop: The Colosseum. Johnny stops abruptly and looks at the huge structure as if sizing it up.

“I think I could fit that in my luggage,” he says nonchalantly.

Sungchan pipes up, “What girl are you trying to impress Johnny? Y/n?”

“Yes,” Johnny looks at you, “Is it working?” You just respond by shaking your head no. He pretends to be upset by imitating a mad toddler and stomping his foot and pouting. The rest of the group just walks on without him. You can’t deny the architectural beauty of this ancient amphitheater. Smallish groups begin to form as you all start walking and exploring. The few of you choose to break off and head down to explore the tunnels underneath the exposed floor. Surprisingly there weren’t many visitors down there at that time besides you six. After a brief moment of walking and admiring it, Johnny abruptly pushes Renjun on the arm screaming, “You’re it!” before taking off into the distance for an abrupt game of tag. The others take off in different directions, turning behind corners and hiding wherever possible. Renjun complains first about not wanting to play but runs away anyway as soon as he catches a glimpse of Sungchan’s arm. You decide to hang back, letting them be unsure of whether or not you were joining the game. Soon you duck behind a wall and your heart starts pumping with the adrenaline of potentially being caught. Trying not to run too fast and be respectful. However, you end up stopping once Sungchan appears around the corner and chases after you. He grabs your shoulder and turns around to take off before you can tag him back. You take off after him anyway, still looking in each corridor for the other players. He manages to dip out of sight, but you spot Johnny peek his head out of one of the archways ahead. When he turns his head to look in your direction, you’re already running toward him, causing him to turn around another wall. Once you reach the passage that you thought he turned down you slow down to turn into it, only to be met with Jaehyun jumping out and scaring you. Your hands stretch out as if to block him. He must be unaware that you’re “it” because he grabs your wrists and pulls you deeper into his hiding spot, apologizing for scaring you and laughing simultaneously. His voice is pretty low when he laughs and you realize- oh my god- he has a dad laugh. It’s kind of wholesome though.

You ask, “Do you know who’s ‘it’ right now?”

He responds, “No I honestly have no clue,” then turns to look at you to be met with the evil look in your eyes.

“It’s me.” He tries to run from you but you’re already on his heels before you both see your professor walking toward you. You both immediately slow down your pace to a slow walk and do a bad job of acting casual as you pass him. Clearly out of breath, your professor walks past saying,

“Almost time to get going guys. And stay out of trouble,” before continuing on to look for other students. It’s hard to tell if he was judging you or not with his sunglasses on. Trying to hold back laughter, the two of you speed up to a fast walk and try to find the rest of your friend group. When you find Johnny, he’s already rounded up the gang.

You feel Jaehyun elbow you in the side and when you look to him in confusion, he just says, “You’re it,” and keeps walking. You jog to catch up with him pushing him as you pass him to meet up, shooting a look over your shoulder at him. He smirks, knowing this game isn’t over. You’re all guided back to the bus as you make your way to stop for lunch before your second destination. There’s a lingering exhilaration you feel as you never know when Jaehyun is going to “tag” you next. Sometimes he leans over to talk to Johnny, showing how easily he could just reach over and get you. When you get off the bus, he stands back and holds out an arm as if saying “ladies first.” With him right behind you, you feel the need to stay right up behind Johnny on the way out, but run into him once when you aren’t careful. You mutter an apology and he says it’s okay but you can feel a bit of heat run to your face in a blush.

Once off the bus, the large group is told that there are many restaurants and cafes in this area and we can choose whatever we like for lunch. Of course, your group sticks together as you make your way out to observe what looks good.

Sungchan jokes, “ We could always hit the Burger King we saw on the way back there.” You laugh, but Xiaojun is unamused.

He says, “There is no way the first meal I’m having in Rome, in Italy is going to be Burger King.”

“I think we kind of have to have pizza, right y/n?” Renjun inputs.

“I agree,” you say, pulling out the trusty old Google search of “pizza near me” So many options pop up and you offer a place that doesn’t seem to have prices too high. The guys all agree and you start your walk in that direction.

Once you arrive, the five of you are seated at the charming location and decide on two pizzas, one with seemingly inoffensive ingredients and one a little adventurous with pears and sweet gorgonzola. At first, you’re a bit hesitant to try the sweet pizza, thinking it will be like pineapple on pizza or something, but you can’t refuse when Xiaojun tries it and makes such a big deal of asking you to try while holding his slice out to you to take a bite. When you do, you understand his reaction because it really is very amazing. I mean, you should’ve expected this. It is real, authentic Italian pizza.

After finishing lunch, you make your way to the second location: The Spanish Steps. You can see that your group was running a little late because your professor quickly waved you all over toward the large group and explained that he was hoping to get a few group photos here because the location is so picturesque. Of course, you’d all be fighting for a spot but eventually after waiting a while, the professor was able to get someone to take a photo for all of you as you spread yourself out on the steps. He offered to also take pictures for any smaller groups or individuals who wanted a photo. You can see some people start to split off and pose for instagram feed pictures or take small group photos, then offer to take a picture for the guys.

Johnny protests saying, “Nuh-uh, you have to be in the picture too!” You can’t hide the smile on your face from feeling included while Johnny goes to ask your professor to take your photo. You all pose in a nice formation for the picture and then your professor counts down.

After he takes a few, he says, “Okay, now a funny one.”

They all try their best to do something funny or make a funny face. But you never know what to do during these so you look around at them for ideas and you’re just about to copy Sungchan’s peace sign and cheesy smile when you feel someone’s arms grab your back and behind the knees, sweeping you into a bridal style hold. It’s not until Jaehyun’s head sweeps under your arm that you realize it was him.

You look at him with a shocked expression and he doesn’t even glance at you while he smiles for the camera saying, “You’re it.”

Masterlist

There's part 1 of Italy! Let me know if you enjoyed this by liking or commenting on this post! Whichever trip photo and chapters get the most likes or comments are the ones I’ll update first so feel free to give me feedback! I’m thinking this will be sort of a choose-your-own adventure so you can read all the alternative endings with each member.

[andawaywego]

Your fics are my favorite! Could you write one where some guy hitting on Dani too aggressively and won’t leave so Jamie has to step in? Maybe punches him, Dani takes care of her hand after and has a lot of feelings

okay! so i also got a more recent prompt for someone asking for Jamie to defend Dani, so this is for both of you guys. i hope you like it!

(check it out in my prompt collection for a bonus ending written by my hilarious bud, Julia)

..

Growing up, the storybooks always made Dani think that heroes come in suits of armor. Broad-shouldered, tall, handsome strangers who wait for you at the bottom of the tower asking you to let down your hair, give them your heart, just let them save you and they’ll love you forever, promise. And there was something about that she never wanted—she’s never seen herself in that throne room or glass coffin or anywhere else where a princess might need saving.

Because, no. She doesn’t need any saving that she can’t provide for herself. And she knows that. Really, she does.

But then again, she’s never had anyone knock a guy on his ass for her. At least, not until—

_____________________

Rewind.

The last night of Owen’s visit, they go to a bar in Burlington for drinks. It’s not a place they frequent, no, but it’s nearby and always seems busy. Certainly that can’t mean it’s unliked.

And it is nice enough. Clean booths, even if the benches are cracked vinyl, nice enough waitresses, good lighting and, importantly, not too loud. It’s a Friday, so it is fairly packed and it’s late, too, what with them having decided to come last minute after letting Owen cook them one more meal (“You’ll have plenty of leftovers,” he’d said, “so you won’t have to do take-out for a bit”; always trying to take care of them, even when he lives on the other side of the ocean).

He and Jamie are trying to outdrink one another, though neither of them had said this aloud. Dani sits beside her girlfriend, arm around her waist, and watches them fondly as some of Jamie’s beer dribbles down her chin. Somehow, she manages to finish before Owen does, and then she’s slamming her glass back down on the table in front of her, liquid spilling into her lap and Dani laughs.

“Oh my god,” she says, reaching across the table for the napkin holder. “You’re a mess.” She grabs a handful of them and turns Jamie’s head her way, mopping her face up while Jamie smiles and laughs at her own ridiculousness.

Owen stops drinking with just a splash left and sets his own mug down, shaking his head as he makes himself swallow. “I refuse to look like that,” he says, gesturing to her beer-stained flannel. “You win.”

“You refuse to look like what? A winner?” Jamie counters, a triumphant gleam in her eye that makes Dani sort of feel like swooning, even though that’s silly.

“A wet winner,” Dani amends and Jamie must be buzzed because her smirk only gets wider and she wiggles her eyebrows at Dani. “Stop.” Dani pretends to push her away as Jamie darts in quickly to plant a kiss on her cheek. 

“God, stop being so bloody happy,” Owen complains, not an ounce of animosity in his voice or his expression. “You’re making me ill.”

“That’s probably because of the beer you just guzzled down,” Dani tells him and Jamie cackles.

“She’s got your number,” she says. She lifts her hand up then, burping into her fist and then apologizing and Dani rolls her eyes.

Sometimes, it’s a wonder that this is the same woman who could make her weak-kneed with just a look. More than anyone Dani has ever known in her life, Jamie contains multitudes.

“I’m gonna get you two some water,” Dani says, getting up. 

Jamie throws her a happy grin and Owen gives a sincere, “Thank you,” that Dani waves off. She’s only a foot away from the two of them resume their childish bickering. 

Slowly, Dani weaves her way through the other patrons and makes her way to the bar, keeping to herself as much as possible. It isn’t as if she’s been in many, but it seems strange, almost, how the atmosphere of the place can change with the types of people who choose to inhabit it. When they first arrived, the place seemed warm and friendly—lots of clean lines and light greys. A modern-looking chandelier strung above the main tables past the bar. An exposed brick wall beside the booths. Without too many people in it, the space had seemed almost bonhomous. Welcoming.

Now, as the evening grows later and people are getting more and more into their cups, it’s begun to lose some of what made it convivial. 

So she tightens up her posture, holds her shoulders and head higher, and finds an empty space beside the bar to wait while the bartender assists someone else. There’s a song playing from the jukebox in the corner, but she can’t make out any of the words or even tell what key the melody is in. All she can hear is the distant, seemingly random scatter of an asynchronous beat.

“What have I done to deserve this?”

It takes Dani a moment to realize that, despite the phrasing, the question is being asked in relation to her presence. There’s a man sitting on a stool beside where she’s standing and he’s looking at her with dark eyes that make her feel even more on display. He’s smartly dressed, like he’d come to the bar directly from his office, and his tie is loosened around his neck, the top buttons undone in a blatant show of after-hours leisure. 

There’s something to the way he’s looking at her—the parting of his chapped lips—that makes her feel trapped. Makes her heart speed up in her chest.

“Excuse me?” she asks. Wanting to ignore him. Knowing in her heart of hearts that he will likely only persist even if she does.

“What brings a girl like you to a place like this?” he asks, eyes dancing with slight intoxication. Leering at her. 

Dani taps her fingers against the bartop, a quiet prayer of, “Come on, come one, come on,” escaping her lips as she stares down the busy bartender. Wanting a rescue. Wanting a way out.

“Did you hear me?” the man asks, and there’s a quality to his voice now that makes her feel even more on edge than before. 

Dani decides that the best course of action is to simply play dumb. “Sorry?” she asks, turning his way again with a stiff smile. 

He smirks. “I asked what a girl like you is doing in a place like this.”

“Um…” She clears her throat. “Waiting for the bartender.”

“Why don’t you sit down and stay a while.” He gestures at the empty stool beside him. “Let me buy you the next one.”

Dani presses her lips together. Takes a deep breath. “Thank you, but I’m uh...here with people.”

His expression darkens even further somehow. “Boyfriend?” he asks.

Her immediate reaction is to deny it because no. There is no boyfriend. Just her beautiful, silly, and very, very far away girlfriend. But then she thinks of Owen, also with them. Not necessarily intimidating, no, but another man at least. 

She grits her teeth. “Yes, actually. Right over there.” She points to the booth where Owen and Jamie are still talking amongst themselves. The man follows her gaze and stares them down. As he does, Jamie perks up, frowning at the sight of him and catching Dani’s eyes.

If there were a way to send for an SOS, Dani would have done it already. Instead, she has to settle for hoping that, after three years together, Jamie might be able to simply read her mind.

“Him?” the man asks. He turns back around and fixes Dani with a hard look that makes her skin crawl. 

“Yes,” Dani says. “Him.”

“He looks a little busy with your friend, wouldn’t you say?” He leans a little closer, and Dani jumps when she feels his hand touch her waist, trying to pull her in. “Come on, baby. One drink.”

“No, thank you.” Dani pulls away from him, anger flushing up her neck and chest. “And don’t call me that.”

He grips her arm next, a little too tightly, and Dani’s certain her heart is going to pound directly out of her chest. “What?” he asks, showing his teeth in a way that is so, so different than a smile. “Baby?”

Dani wrenches herself out of his grasp and pulls away. “Yes,” she says, a note of slight hysteria tinting the word. “Now—”

“Somethin’ the matter, Poppins?” 

It’s as if her lungs can finally expand when Dani hears Jamie’s voice, feels her warm, gentle hand on her waist. Immediately, she leans into the touch and turns to meet the worried, heated gaze of her girlfriend. She opens her mouth to say something, to ask for Jamie to please, please get her out of here, but she’s cut off by an irritated, “Oh,” coming from the man on the stool.

When she turns, he’s looking between them knowingly, eyes tracing the way Dani has turned herself into Jamie’s touch. 

“I didn’t realize you were one of them,” he spits.

Something hot and panicked shoots through Dani’s chest at his words, like lightning, like a bullet. She feels rather than sees Jamie stiffen beside her, pull herself up to make herself seem taller.

“What’s that?” Jamie asks, teeth bared and feral, already pushing herself in front of Dani to stand between him and the man.

He scoffs, and rolls his eyes. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have wasted my time on a d—” 

Thankfully, he doesn’t even have time to finish the thought. Instead, there’s a sickening, fleshy thump as Jamie’s fist collides with his cheekbone. 

Hard.

Caught off guard, the man falls off his stool and lands on the floor with an even louder noise. As he does, his arms flail out and knock his glass off the table, and it lands beside him, crashing as it breaks apart upon impact. 

Immediately, the entire bar goes quiet as everyone turns to stare at what’s just happened. Owen is standing by the booth, mouth agape and wide-eyed as he looks between a seething Jamie, fist still cocked, and the man on the floor clutching his face.

Dani is clutching Jamie’s other arm, pulling at her and trying to let her mind catch up with the quickly-unfolding events that have just taken place. 

“You bitch!” the man yells. He turns to look at the shell-shocked audience around him. “She hit me! You crazy bitch!”

“You’re lucky that’s all I did you fucking dickhead!” Jamie shouts back. “When a girl tells ya’ no thank you, keep your greasy fucking hands off her or I’ll—”

“Jamie,” Dani says softly, tugging at Jamie’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s just—”

Jamie is wild-eyed when she turns to look at her, as unhinged as Dani’s ever seen her and she looks so angry and beautiful that it’s a wonder Dani keeps standing at all. “He fucking—” she begins, but Dani shakes her head.

“I know, I know.” She throws a look at Owen who is already making his way towards them. “We need to leave, okay? Please.”

It’s the final word, perhaps, that finally brings Jamie back into herself. Her expression softens and she lowers her fist, nodding and letting herself be pulled toward the exit before anyone wises up enough to call the police. As they go, whispered conversations start trickling through the crowd again, muffled shock cupped behind hands as the man begins to pull himself to his feet, deflated and looking very much like a child.

The front door squeaks loudly as they step out into the bitter, November air. It’s shockingly sobering, despite the fact that Dani hasn’t had a drop to drink all night. Her cheeks are flushed with the emotion of the last few minutes and she realizes that she’s trembling, even as she’s gripping Jamie’s wrist.

Fortunately, it seems to have the same effect on Jamie, who’s begun to calm herself down and breathe normally again. The normal sounds of the evening feel otherworldly now—the rush of cars and voices and regular life crashing down on each of them.

The door squeaks again and then Owen is there, coming towards them with a still-surprised gleam in his eye. But there’s something else there, too. Something that Dani thinks might be pride.

“What happened?” he asks, looking between them both.

“Bloody wanker grabbed Dani,” Jamie mutters and she’s inspecting her punching-fist now, eyebrows furrowed.

Owen’s eyebrows raise in even more surprise. “You okay, Dani?” he asks, turning his worry her way.

Dani nods. “I’m fine, I just—”

“Yep,” Jamie says. “It’s broken.”

“What?” Dani squeaks and Jamie looks up at her with a wry smile, clutching her hand to her chest.

“My knuckle. It’s broken.”

“Oh my god,” Dani breathes.

“It’s okay.”

“You broke your hand. How is that—”

“I’m fine. It’s not like I—”

“Jesus, Jamie, why did you have to—”

“What was I supposed to do, Dani?” Jamie asks. “Let him touch you like that when you were trying to get away from him? You looked so scared and he was just...I just...I’m sorry.”

Dani blinks. Tries not to cry. “You big, dumb hero,” she says softly and Jamie looks hurt for a moment until she realizes that Dani is smiling. “You broke your hand defending my honor.”

For a moment, she forgets that Owen is there at all. It’s just her and Jamie and Jamie’s battle wound, wrapped up in a bubble of their own design. Jamie smiles a little, clearly in pain as her adrenaline drains away.

“So out of character for me,” Jamie breathes, laughing a little. “I’m sorry that I—”

Dani cuts her off again, but differently now. Leaning in, she cups Jamie’s face and kisses her, hard and heart and i can’t believe you did that. Jamie lifts her good hand, resting it on Dani’s shoulder as she kisses her back. It lingers for a moment, just long enough for Dani to feel like the earth has stopped spinning beneath her feet. 

When she pulls away, Jamie breathes shakily against her lips, resting their foreheads together as they each try to settle down.

Owen clears his throat, bringing them back into the moment. “If you two are done, I really think we should get her to the hospital.”

Reality washes over Dani like an icy ocean wave. “Oh my god, Jamie, your hand.”

The last evening of Owen’s visit, they end the night in the emergency room; Owen buys them food from the vending machine, Jamie makes too many jokes about being temporarily handicapped (“Handicapped,” she says, smiling at herself. “Get it?”) and Dani holds her good hand, remembering all of those heroes she never wanted to be rescued by.

Jamie’s nothing like them. She isn’t a knight or a prince or anything like that. She’s the hard-headed, unbelievable, wonderful love of Dani’s life. And that’s better than any hero she could have ever wished for.

..

[since0202]

Chapter 37: Pack

Grace let the warm water rush over her face as she braced herself against the shower wall. Only a couple of hours ago she had been bestowed with knowledge that Jacob Black was her soulmate. She had held onto him so tight as every fiber of her being pulled her to him. All she could remember from that first embrace was relief. Her entire body had ached for so long and she had just gotten used to the pain of it, until finally it was wiped clear in one moment and the realization that her life had been missing this integral part washed through her. 

She turned the heat up in the shower and let it pelt her back. Everything happened so fast that she didn’t know if it was even real anymore. Grace turned the water off, not sure of how long she’d been in the shower. She wrapped herself in a towel and walked into her quiet bedroom, the sun was setting outside now and the cool light pooled in pockets around her room. She let the towel fall so she could shake the excess water from her hair. Her body felt incredibly warm. 

She pulled on some fitted joggers and a grey tank top before throwing her red cropped hoodie on. She shook a hand through her hair and let out a huff of breath before turning toward her door and walking slowly down the stairs. 

She rounded the corner to face the kitchen and came to a stop. Jacob was standing in her kitchen pulling together a meal, She held onto the stair banister and paused for just a moment before he looked over his shoulder at her. 

Grace’s breath caught in her throat again. He gave her a small smile and said softly, “I just threw a bunch of leftovers together, you didn’t have much.” 

He carried two plates out and set them on the kitchen table. Grace stayed by the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest. Her entire body felt electrified with anticipation, and her eyes kept darting to his hands. The same hands that had held her so tightly in the forest as she nearly wept in his arms just a few hours earlier. 

“Hungry?” he said, raising his eyebrow at her. Grace’s entire body screamed to be near him and she nodded gently, trying to walk at a normal speed toward him. She plopped down in the chair closest to him. “You okay?” 

How could he ask that?! Was she okay?! She was over the moon. She was elated. She was incredibly, overwhelming, irrevocably in love with this feeling. Her entire body buzzed with so much excitement that she thought she’d fly apart at any moment. Her senses were dialed to eleven anytime he opened his mouth, moved his hand, brushed his arm against hers. 

“Oh, yeah,” she answered nonchalantly, picking up her fork and putting mashed potato in her mouth. “Totally.” she nodded. Jacob looked at her for a second and then his face broke into a wide grin that squeezed her heart. He started to laugh and so did she. They were gasping for air, laughing at one another and Grace thought it was the most incredible sound. After a few moments, they settled and she shook her head at him. 

“This is wild,” he sighed and Grace nodded carefully. As they finished their food Grace took a chance to speak, 

“What do we do now?” 

As if on cue, Leah and Seth came through the door panting. Grace was on her feet, Jacob in front with an arm extended in front of her. 

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Jacob asked. Leah put her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath and when she stood straight to look at them she did a double take.

“No FUCKING WAY! I knew it!” she yelled. Seth was grinning like a mad man as Leah raised a finger now accusingly. “I knew shit was weird between you two for too long! I knew it!” 

“Take it easy Leah,” Jacob rolled his eyes. 

“Why the fuck did you only imprint now?!” She was looking from Grace to Jake. 

“He became alpha. I guess that’s what Ti’Hal had kept saying this whole time about ‘be yourself blah blah blah’,” Grace said crossing her arms. “She kept saying we were fighting too hard against who we were and only when we became who we were meant to be would the suffering end.” 

“Dark,” Leah said positively thrilled.

“Okay, anyway, what are you two doing here?” Jake asked again. Seth started walking toward the kitchen now. 

“We left Sam’s pack.” He said simply.

“You WHAT?!” both Grace and Jake shouted in unison. 

“You need to go back right now, Seth. You too Leah,” Jake said. 

“Is that an order?” Seth responded jokingly. Jake glowered, clenching his fists.  

“That’s not what I said,” Jacob said evenly. Leah plopped down on the couch and threw her arm over the back of it. 

“Seth bring me some leftovers. I’m beat,” Leah said. 

“This isn’t funny you two, you shouldn’t be here. I didn’t start my own pack,” Jake said. He looked to Grace for help but she shrugged. 

“You’re technically an alpha which means you are your own pack,” Grace said in a small voice. 

“Exactly. When you went quiet and left, it was like a door was left open. Seth and I chose to go through the door. Once we decided, everyone went quiet. It was amazing,” Leah said as Seth handed her a tupperware container full of lasagna. 

“Oh god,” Grace put a hand to her forehead. “Sam’s probably pissed.” 

“Who cares? He deserves it after what he did to you. He was way out of line,” Leah said. 

“That’s not the point. I don’t know what I’m doing right now,” Jake retorted, a hand automatically resting on Grace’s arm. 

“Oh, we know,” Seth said, “But you made a choice, and so did we. If you want us to go back to Sam’s pack you’re going to have to do it with an alpha order.”

“When did you get all this confidence?” Jacob said, surprised. Seth smirked and dug into the pizza leftovers. Grace had ordered a few days back. Jacob let out a groan and turned to wrap his arms around Grace’s shoulders. She threaded her hands underneath his arms and around his back and echoed his groan.

“I can’t believe you imprinted,” Seth said, shaking his head. Jacob didn’t respond, but rather he laid his cheek on the top of Grace’s head, letting the relief wash over them. 

“Are you really though? Look at them, they were like this before. All the pieces were there, they were just being stubborn,” Leah said. “Ti’Hal said so,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“Okay, I’m going to go take a shower, please don’t eat Grace out of house and home,” Jacob kissed the top of Grace’s head and let her go to move up the stairs. 

“Okay, but I’m sleeping in her bed tonight, alpha,” Leah said. Jacob scoffed at this as he disappeared into Grace’s room. Grace jumped over the back of the couch and sat next to Leah, pulling her head under her arm to give her a noogie. 

“You’re no longer a part of the Sam pack and suddenly, you’ve got so much sass.” Grace teased. 

“I’ve always been like this.” Leah stated shaking free of Grace’s grip. 

“She really has been,” Seth said, flicking through the channels on the TV. 

“How do you feel?” Leah asked in a lower tone. Grace’s eyes were alight, eager, she hadn’t felt this good in months. Still, she squirmed a little under Leah’s stare, everything still new. 

“I don’t know. I feel...really really good. We haven’t really gotten to talk about any of it yet but he seems...happy about it?” Grace glanced up the stairs and back to Leah. “It’s not like we’re suddenly going to press on the gas though, right?” 

“I dunno, ever since he came back you’ve been on his mind. He even mentioned this call and return thing that kept happening while he was out on his own. Which honestly sounds like it was a dormant imprint thing. I don’t think he’s going to want to take it too slow.” Leah responded. 

Seth looked over his shoulder at them, “Are you guys together now?” 

“Seth,” Leah hissed. 

“What?!” 

“We literally imprinted like four hours ago,” Grace bemoaned. 

“Yeah, but you’ve felt it since the first time you laid eyes on him, don’t lie.” Leah waggled her eyebrows suggestively at her and Grace pushed her shoulder. 

“You better watch it or you won’t be sleeping in my bed tonight,” Grace warned. She got up then and went to the kitchen to clean up. Grace semi-hoped that another pack member didn’t decide to leave Sam’s pack and come to her house right away. She was sorely lacking on the food front considering she’d been at the Cullen’s for the majority of the last 5 months. As she finished the dishes in the sink and was wiping down the counters, Jake came up behind her. 

“Need anything?” he asked awkwardly. She turned to look at him and gave him a small smile. 

“No, I’m good,” Grace said. His eyes connected with hers and she felt that familiar pull in her belly. The one that begged her to move closer, but she stayed in place, still unsure of where they were headed. However, in this connective moment, Jake must have felt the same thing because he reached out to her and Grace took the two steps forward to close the gap between him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him and then pressed his lips to her shoulder. She brought her hands up to rub on the back of his neck and he let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh of pleasure. Grace closed her eyes at the sound and couldn’t help but feel a ripple of pleasure whip through her as well.  

“Is this too much?” Jake said quietly into her shoulder. Grace shook her head and whispered back, 

“No. It feels good, right?” 

“That’s an understatement,” he said chuckling. She smiled brighter at that as she moved her hand in soft circles on the back of his neck. “Does Leah really get to sleep in bed with you tonight?” 

At this Grace let out a loud laugh as Jacob tightened his hold on her. 

“You guys are kind of gross,” Leah said distractedly on the couch watching a show with Seth. 

Grace woke up the next morning with an arm draped across her body. Groggily, she rubbed at her eyes and looked to her left at the sleeping form of Leah. Did yesterday really happen? She wondered. Jacob had imprinted on her, become alpha in her defense, and split the pack up. None of it felt real. 

Despite Jacob’s new alpha status, Grace still had a line into Sam’s pack. She was void of pack specific allegiance and was keeping an ear to the ground of if they were going to volley an attack against the Cullen’s. Before she fell asleep late last night, nothing of note had come up. Sam’s pack was in disarray and they had unphased to regroup. 

Grace picked Leah’s arm up off her body and rolled out of bed. She slowly padded down the stairs and went to start some coffee. Jacob was strewn across the couch, his broad body taking up the majority of the space. Seth was in the back office, still asleep. Grace checked her phone for any new messages from Carlisle or Edward, but her inbox was empty. She took her coffee and softly made her way to the front door to enjoy it out on the patio. 

She listened to the sounds of the comforting waves and felt a moment of calm wash over her. Jacob had made it clear last night that he was interested in picking up where they left off. They still needed to discuss everything but Grace knew that would come in time. Whether it was the imprint or the familiar pull they had always felt toward each other, fate was beckoning them. Grace wasn’t going to fight it anymore—she couldn’t.

As she sipped the warm liquid under the rising sun, Grace couldn’t help but be both excited and terrified of what was to come. Sure, the rift between Sam and her was going to take time to fix, but she wouldn’t let this implicate the pack members. Two packs could exist together, two alphas meant more coverage to manage duties, the new recruits, everything. 

This can work. 

A sound to her left made her eyes snap wide, the calm she felt moments earlier dissipated. From the left of the treeline at the mouth of the cove, Embry stumbled into the clearing in front of Grace’s home. 

“Embry?” she said aloud, confusion coloring her voice. And then, she saw it. Bright blood gushed from his shoulder, painting the right side of his body red and staining his shorts. She ran forward, colliding with him just outside of the path to her front door and he collapsed on top of her. The wound was incredibly deep, fresh, and Embry’s eyes were rolling back in his head. 

“JACOB!” Grace screamed as she kneeled on the sand, Embry’s immense frame sliding face first into her lap. Grace pulled her hand away at the sticky, warm blood and then immediately pressed her hand back. His shoulder and part of his neck were shredded, the muscle ragged and exposed. Jacob was on her in a second, crouching next to her and pulling Embry’s body into his arms. Leah and Seth were standing on the porch bewildered. 

“Bring him inside,” Grace said hurriedly. “Leah, get towels. Jacob, take him to the back.” 

“We need to patrol,” Leah said shocked. Jacob gave her one short look and nodded his head as he went past. 

“Go with Seth after you fetch the towels. I’ll be with you soon,” Jacob confirmed. He laid Embry’s lifeless body on the mattress and Grace kneeled beside him pressing her hand to his neck and shoulder. 

“Is he—” Seth said, lingering in the doorway to the room. 

“Seth, go phase now.” Jacob said. Leah was in the room with towels and was shaking them out. Seth backed out of the doorway and sprinted toward the cove.

“Where do you want them?” she asked Grace. 

“Under his head, here give me one.” They worked quickly, sopping up the excess blood and clearing the wound so Grace could see the extent of the wound. With Jacob’s help, she sat herself at the head of the bed, her back against the wall. Jacob laid Embry’s head and shoulders in her lap and she pressed both hands to his wound trying to cover as much surface area as possible. 

“I’m gonna kill him! He’s lost his mind,” Leah seethed moving from the room after Seth. Jacob was preoccupied with Embry, his eyes focused but his face etched with worry. 

“Go,” Grace pleaded to Jake, “I’ve got him. He’s breathing. You need to keep anyone else away from here, but don’t fight them, Jacob. We don’t know what happened.” Jacob grimaced at this and took off after Leah and Seth. “Oh Em,” Grace said, tears springing to her eyes. 

She had to focus now so she settled in and closed her eyes, feeling the warm spring of blood pulse under her palms as she willed Embry back to life. 

At some point, Grace had fallen asleep, exhaustion settling over her as she healed Embry. When she woke up, the sun was high in the sky. She pulled the towel back that was covering her hand and inspected the wound. It was puckered and closing, and Grace let out a sigh of relief. Embry’s breathing was even, but his forehead pooled with sweat. Grace ran a hand through his hair and felt it’s damp. She readjusted her body under him and reached for her phone that Jacob had left on the nightstand. 

SMS Text—12:32 p.m.: Jacob

We’re on the outer perimeter of your place. 

No sign of Sam. 

The Cullen’s place is quiet. 

How’s Embry?

Grace quickly returned the text: He’s healing, but it’s slow. I’m calling Dr. Cullen, I think he has a fever. 

Grace navigated to Carlisle’s number and hit call. It rang twice before he answered. 

“Grace. Everything alright?”

“Fine. Can you come to my place? One of ours is hurt and I think he has a fever. He’s not healing fast enough.” 

“I’m on my way.” Then silence. 

Grace leaned her head against the wall and let out a huff. As she waited for Carlisle, Grace tried to understand what happened. Could Sam really do something like this? The thought made her cringe thinking of Embry crushed between Sam’s jaws, ripping and thrashing him around. The wound was so pronounced that she thought Embry must have phased back to his human form halfway through. She’d get to the bottom of this. 

She heard Carlisle’s car and before she knew it he was next to her, kneeling and inspecting Embry’s wound. 

“Probably infection. Do you know how he got this?” Carlisle set to work setting up an IV and pressing it gingerly into Embry’s elbow crease. 

“Not sure, but possibly Sam. Jacob became Alpha and a few members of the pack left Sam and joined Jacob’s ranks. It’s caused...some tension,” Grace said tiredly. 

“I’m sure. He should be okay. The antibiotics should help clear the infection and he’ll improve with your help. The wound is almost closed and I’ve cleaned what I can see. But for now, it will just take time.” Carlisle said softly. 

“Okay,” Grace said, “Can you help me up, I’m covered in blood and need some fresh air.” 

Carlisle obliged and helped gently lift Embry up so she could slide out from under him. They laid him back down carefully, clearing away the blood soaked towels. 

Carlisle followed her out into the living room. 

“Thank you for coming. I really appreciate the added help,” Grace said. “How’s Bella?” Carlisle smiled sadly. 

“She’s….” he paused for just a little too long and Grace’s heart fluttered, “She’s fine but she’s taken a turn. We’re not sure just yet how to keep her on track but it seems like the fetus is starting to take too much from her. She can’t eat anything and…” Carlisle rubbed his forehead. 

“She’s dying?” Grace said softly. 

“Not yet, we’ll figure something out. You have enough to worry about here. Do you know if Sam has a plan to—” 

“No, no. He’s lost four members of his pack, there’s no way he’d launch an attack outnumbered. You’re under our protection and once we get Embry back, we’ll go from there. I’ll try to come by tonight, see what we can do,” Grace said. Carlisle gently touched her shoulder  and headed for his car. As he pulled away, Grace felt herself start to shake. 

She walked carefully to the kitchen and turned on the hot water, washing her blood stained hands and watching the currant colored blood swirl around in her sink. A sob involuntarily escaped her lips and she gripped the side of the counter. She couldn’t lose Embry and she wouldn’t lose Bella. 

Grace felt her body weaken slightly at the weight of the day’s events, and as she took deep breaths to try and clear her head, she felt warm hands circle around her. A deep gasp of relief sounded in her throat as she leaned back into the body behind her. She turned and circled her hands around his neck, her body filling with warmth. He held her for just a moment and then scooped her up under her knees and carried her upstairs. 

He set her down gently and held one arm around her waist while reaching around to turn on the shower. Diligently, slowly, he pulled her shirt up off her body. He slid the pajama shorts she had been wearing down around her feet, his fingertips grazing the sides of her body as he stood up. She stepped out of her shorts, taking in labored breaths. He quickly discarded his jean shorts and stepped into the open shower, tugging her hand to follow him. 

Grace stepped under the warm water and let it wash over her face. Jacob took a shower sponge and gently washed her arms, legs, stomach, and back, carefully cleaning the blood off of her that had soaked through her clothes. She watched him, her brain cloudy, her movements slow and let him softly touch every part of her. For a while, he just held her as she leaned against his chest taking deep breaths. Once done, he wrapped a towel around his midsection and draped a towel around her, drying her. He led her to her room and tugged a clean black, oversized t-shirt over her head and pulled on a pair of shorts for himself. Grace was revelling at the feeling of being tugged and touched—each time his hand connected with her skin, it sent a shock wave of warmth through her body. He guided her to bed and pulled her to him under the lightweight sheet. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck and let herself be enveloped by his heat. 

She marvelled at their unspoken time together, feeling everything that words couldn’t seem to cover. What Grace felt above all else was love, warm, crashing, contented love radiating from the man that held her. She pressed a kiss to his neck and let herself drift to sleep. 

[overdramatic-queer-antagonist]

And They Knew

I felt very bad about this fic so, as retribution I wrote a fic twice it’s size that is pure fluff.

"Tim, I want you to know I'm never going anywhere with you again," Jon said, drying his sopping wet hair off. Of course, everyone and their mothers knew that the threat was an empty one. So Tim hardly blinked. "Whatever you say, boss," He said with a smile as he slung his arm around Sasha. "Oh, come on, Tim! I'm the only one who wasn't thrown overboard!" Sasha complained as she tried to escape his grasp. "Exactly! It's really not fair to the rest of us if only one of us is dry, now is it?" "Well, maybe if you weren't so keen on jumping out of kayaks, you wouldn't be wet." "Oh, so it's my fault that my girlfriend is so perfect I couldn't resist giving her affectio- Hey!" At some point, Martin had come up behind the pair with a bucket of water and had, graciously, poured the entire bucket on Tim's head. "You know the rules," Martin said, "no being a simp. You agreed to it, Tim." Affronted, Tim argued, "It's not my fault, I'm in love with a goddess!" Or at least that's what it sounded like he said. The moment he said the word, "love" Martin had placed the, now empty, bucket on his head. Getting a muffled laugh from the now thoroughly bucketed man. Jon had dried his hair as much as he could and was now reading. He looked up and nodded towards Tim, "If you're done being gross-" an offended gasp from the bucket went wholely ignored- "Should we check out that restaurant we saw on the way here?" Sasha shrugged, "I could eat." Jon, Sasha, and Martin walked through the beach to the parking lot wordlessly. This decision was made through ridiculous hand gestures and pointed looks and was entirely to mess with Tim. Who, even as they left the beach, was Still. Wearing. A. Bucket. On. His. Head. This wasn't much of a problem until he got into the driver's seat, still refusing to take the bucket off. "Tim, why are you driving with a bucket on your head?" Sasha asked. "Spite," Tim said, tilting his bucket to make a pointed gesture at Martin. Martin groaned, "Okay, fine! You can take it off-" "Fuck Yeah," A freed Tim exclaimed. "-If you promise not to simp." "Slightly less fuck yeah." His freedom from the bucket is all well and good, but why not just have someone else drive?" Jon asked. "Oh, you sweet summer child," Tim said, clasping a hand to his heart, "Well, since you asked so nicely. Sasha was asleep on the way here and has no idea what we're talking about. I can tell by looking at you that you drive like my Grandpa, and gay people can't drive," Tim finished out the list by gesturing to Martin, who nodded solemnly, "It's true. I'm gay, can confirm." "I drive at a perfectly fine speed, thank you very much," Jon responded. Tim was gesturing wildly at Sasha, shocked that his and Martin's joke went unmentioned. Jon paused to look at the horrified Tim and asked, "What's with that look?" Tim recovered and grinned, "Sorry boss, we're just in shock that you would tell such a bold lie to our faces," he said in a tone that could almost be mistaken as hurt, if not for the snicker at the end. Sasha made a noise of disagreement, "I don't know, Tim. Maybe he speeds like a mad man. All that pent up stress. It's better than when he took it out on Martin."   Jon stared at the ground and nodded, "I am really sorry about that, Martin." Martin gave him a soft smile. "I know you are," he whispered. "Are you two lovebirds gonna get in the car, or do I have to grab the bucket?" Tim yelled from the driver's seat. Honking the car's horn as he did. Jon rolled his eyes but acquiesced. *** The drive didn't take long in the sense of nothing ever takes long on vacation. The twenty-minutes it took was dulled into peacefulness by the knowledge that they were in no rush. Sasha and Tim were arguing about the music, and somehow Jon had suggested they listen to a band he used to be in as a compromise. The car was silent as the first song faded out. Then it exploded into excitement. "Oh, my God! Jon!" Sasha exclaimed, twisting around from the front seat to face him. "That was amazing!" "Hell yeah, it was!" Tim agreed, "Man, boss. Didn't know you could sing!" Jon, for his part, folded in on himself, half preening, half mortified. Martin was grinning at him in silent awe, and that was Not making it any better. Jon bet the others could practically feel the heat radiating off his face as Tim drove them into the parking lot. "Man, we are learning so much about each other today," Tim marveled as he parked. "We should go kayaking more often." Martin looked at him in confusion as he stepped out of the car, "We already knew you were a simp, Tim." "I meant you coming out to Jon but, okay, be like that," Tim scoffed without any actual bite, following Martin onto the asphalt. Jon looked at Tim like he'd grown an extra head as he caught up with the pair, "Martin and I have been dating for six months." Tim looked disbelievingly between the (apparently) couple. "No way! No fucking way! How? Why?" He asked. Sasha patted him lovingly on the back, "I think he's having an aneurysm." "Did you know?" He asked. Sasha shook her head and shrugged, "No. I just don't really care. All this really means is Martin'll get the Simp Bucket too." Martin shook his head at Sasha."Check your preconceptions. Last week, Jon wrote me a love song." Tim doubled over in shock and pointed an accusing finger at Jon, "Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?" he yelled. "No, really! He's quite romantic!" Martin laughed. "And you're sure he hasn't been replaced by some shapeshifter who fucked with all our memories?" "Shapeshifters don't exist, Tim," Sasha said as she placed the Simp Bucket on Jon's head with a decisive thunk. "Even if they did, why would they need to fuck with people's memories? They could just act like their victim," Jon said from the Simp Bucket. "Ahaha!" Tim yelled, getting very into the joke despite having stepped into the restaurant. "They'd keep the memories of one person to psychologically torcher them!" "Wait. Why would a shapeshifter need to gaslight someone?" Martin asked as Sasha went and got them a table. "Because they feed off of fear!" Jon looked at Tim, amused as he removed the bucket from his head. "Okay. I'm not a shapeshifter. I just got therapy. But you should write a book." "Thank you! At least someone appreciates my vision. Even if it is NotJon." *** After a meal that was not as good as they wanted it to be but still alright, the quartet made the decision to head back to their hotel (also pretty not great.) The sun was setting, and everyone else had figured that they were done for the day, everyone except Tim, that is. When Tim and his brother, Danny, were little, their parents used to take them out here, and on the last day, they'd always sleep under the stars. This was their last night, and Tim wasn't about to let that tradition die. He ignored Sasha's confused looks as he packed a hell of a lot of blankets, some flashlights, and booze. "What's up?" She asked. Tim beamed at her and said, "Come with me." as he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of their hotel room. A few seconds later, and Tim was knocking on the door of Martin and Jon's room (Suddenly making a lot more sense why they got a couple's. Wow, they weren't even trying to hide it.) Jon opened the door, blearily, as if he had been sleeping, and gave him a questioning look. "No time to explain, boss man! Just get all the blankets you've got and meet me by my truck," Tim said, excitedly turning around before he was even finished. From behind him, he heard Jon ask, "Why would we have brought our own blankets?" Followed by Martin saying, "I've got a few!" and after a pause that Tim could only imagine being filled by Jon looking at Martin confused, Martin added, "What? Bed bugs." Tim felt like a kid again as he waited in the driver's seat, tapping at the steering wheel, giddily. Sasha kept asking him what they were doing, but Tim wanted it to be a surprise, so he just promised her she'd love it. Eventually, he heard the doors to the backseat close and, after looking back to wave, Tim drove off out of the parking lot. For the car ride, Tim was mostly silent. He didn't want to ruin the surprise, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Martin and Jon were asked him questions, which Sasha answered for him. After what felt like ages to the excited Tim, they made it to the clearing. It was the exact same clearing his family had used because if he was going to be sappy, he was going all the way. "O-kay. We're in the woods now," Martin said as the truck slowed to a stop. "Why are we in the woods, Tim?" Tim whipped around excitedly, "We're going to sleep here!" There was a pause for a second before Martin replied," You get that that's the kind of thing a serial killer would say before killing us, right?" Tim shrugged and made his out. "I meant like, in the truck bed. That's why we brought all those blankets. My family used to do it when I was a kid." "I don't really think you can fit four people in a truck bed," Jon said. "Then I guess we'll just have to cuddle!" Tim laughed as Jon groaned behind him. They did end up cuddling. They didn't actually need to, but you cuddle your homies, Steven. Through the silence and the stars, Martin had asked, "Tim? How did you find this place?" Tim stiffened and looked away from the others, towards the sky, "Danny found it. When he was ten, he never could stay still." "Danny?" Tim heard Jon's voice say. "Didn't he die." Tim heard a smack and Jon saying ow, and he laughed. "No need for violence. Yeah, he- he did" Tim's composure was quickly wavering, but he felt Sasha's hand on his, so he squeezed it tight and continued. "He was big into urban exploration. One day he went into some tunnel place alone, and he never came out." Tim felt a head lean against his. Not Sasha's. She was on his other side, still holding his hand. Jon bumped his forehead against Tim's cheek and said quietly, "Sorry for asking." But it was fine. They both knew it was good to talk. They sat in silence for the rest of the night. It wasn't oppressive like they had all dealt with far too many times. It was quiet because there didn't have to be noise. They had tomorrow to be loud. Tomorrow was for Jon and Sasha debating the pronunciation of words. For Tim making the same joke until it wasn't funny anymore. For Martin to defend spiders like they were people. For the chaos, they would create to make their boring-ass office job bearable. They didn't Know what tomorrow would bring. Hell, they didn't even know it. But they knew that they could get through it. Like they'd gotten through shitty jobs, and missing brothers, and oppressive silence. The stars didn't know they weren't alone. There was too much space between them to see it. Sometimes people are like that, as well. Too caught up in their worries that they can't see just how loved they are. But you are not ever alone. And in that truck bed, in the dark, the four knew. And they knew what a gift that knowledge was.

[anika-ann]

The Recipe for Love

(aka The Making of Love)

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 4530

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader, Bucky Barnes

Summary: The words Bucky said were nothing but innocent, truly. Except they wormed their way into your brain and now you’re worried you’re not enough. A proper woman should be able to cook for her man. Too bad you’re a walking kitchen disaster; you’ll just have to try in favour of your relationship with Steve flourishing, won’t you? What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: fluff, light angst, crying, gender stereotyping, self-doubts, more fluff

I’d say I attempted this to be short and it turned out longer than excepted, but seeing as that is a recurring theme with my fics, it seems ridiculous to point it out. Heh, done it anyway.

Also, due to unbearable fluff in this fic, I consider it my annual Christmas fic, because my brain is too in scrambles and there’s no way I’m gonna write anything else that would actually be Christmas-themed.

Enjoy :))

-.-.-

He had been gone for a week now, in the middle of nowhere in Bulgaria, while you stuck to your paper-pushing as you sometimes jokingly put it. And the truth was, you were truly missing him.

You always did.

It had been a year since your occasional meetings in the hallways of SHIELD’s headquarters, where you worked as a part of the surveillance and decryption team, turned from small talks to something much more. That charming smile of his could get him just about anywhere; and your heart was no exception, letting Steve Rogers in with a welcoming drumroll and fireworks, because he was such a gentle soul despite what he had been through that you let yourself fall in love embarrassingly easily.

Steve surely didn’t seem to mind, working his way deeper and deeper into your heart, owning it all and giving you his own in return.

He was everything you could ever dream of; not a perfect man perhaps, but an undeniably good one.

You were far from a perfect woman; however, Steve was always the one to tell you that you were perfect for him, making it so clear that you couldn’t but believe him. When he had offered to move in together only four months into your relationship, you hadn’t even hesitated, reassured by his confidence in what you two had. It didn’t even seem too fast, considering how seriously he was meant to take a relationship given the time he had been born into.

Considering all of this, there was little space left for doubt; you hadn’t been so happy in a very long time.

And then Bucky Barnes opened his big fat mouth and messed it all up; not that you could blame him, because he was only being honest, giving you the piece of information without a single drop of foulness in his intention.

“So, Steve’s coming back,” he threw into a conversation you had fallen into after a random encounter (or was it? With him, you were never sure anything was random) and you felt your lips automatically curl up in a smile.

“So I heard. He should be here in the late afternoon, but he told me I shouldn’t expect him home till eight. He even asked me not to wait up for him here,” you said, not finding anything strange about it.

Steve was considerate – one could never tell how long the debriefings would get, so sitting in the office chair, waiting possibly for endless hours, that was simply something he wouldn’t allow.

Plus, he apparently enjoyed coming home and finding you there, which was more than okay with you – you could understand. Home tended to feel warmer when there was someone waiting for you; when he could, not being away on the mission god knew where, he would make sure to wait for you as well. It was the sweetest thing to come back home to him after a long day; imagining being on a mission for a week or longer, it must have felt like heaven.

Bucky chewed on his apple, nodding thoughtfully. “Smart man. What you’re cooking?”

You froze, only your eyelids fluttering in confusion at the question, to which Bucky was completely oblivious.

“Huh?”

“Pasta? Steak? Oh, god, casserole? Man, I would kill for a casserole… hell, any homecooked meal…” he muttered under his breath, causing your blood turn to ice.

A homemade meal.

Hell yeah, that sounded nice. A perfect thing to come home to as well… except that never happened to Steve. You always… ordered take-out, for very valid reason. You were a terrible cook. Granted, Steve never complained, so you never gave it too much thought.

Perhaps you should have? To be fair, you had informed Steve about your skills in the kitchen on like date number two. He had admitted with a sheepish grin that he probably wasn’t much better and you laughed it off.

As it replayed in your head, you cleared your throat awkwardly, your smile at Bucky straining.

“Right.”

“Christ, I need to get one. It used to be a real deal-breaker, you know? You find a girl, you make sure she knows how to make a good casserole before even considering marrying her…” he sighed regretfully, eyeing his snack with a slight disappointment as if he was hoping it could magically transform into a four-course meal. “Times definitely changed. Man, sometimes I wish I lived back in the forties…”

Ignorant of your inner turmoil, he stalked away, mumbling under his breath.  

You stood there in the middle of the hallway, utterly dumbstruck and horrified.

A deal-breaker? Before marrying her? A good casserole?

A horrible realization struck you, your heart pounding in your chest with rising panic.

Steve moving so quickly in your relationship.

The others mocking you when the proposal would come.

You both always laughing it off, because it was too soon.

Was it though? You had utter belief in your relationship; there was no one else. For you, you couldn’t imagine anyone but Steve as your future partner. You loved him more than anyone else in your life, ever. He was it.

But… were you it for him? You must have been so far from what he used to dream of… so far from a good housewife and you prided in it or at least never felt ashamed of it. You had other qualities, important too, and you focused more on your career path, which was alright, but… was it the same for Steve?

All of sudden, the doubts that had only bothered you once or twice in your darkest moments resurfaced. Who would want a woman like you? You couldn’t even fix a decent meal, for god’s sake! What kind of a message it sent to a man from the thirties, forties?

So far, Steve had never complained… but what if it would become the thing standing between you two and the happy future? What if… what if Steve never even considered marrying you in certain time horizon, because he could barely imagine you as his wife? He was taking your relationship so seriously, it probably wouldn’t be so surprising if the proposal came any day now – it would be a proper thing to do, according to the conventions of time he had been raised in. But so far, there hadn’t even been a hint, not a mention.

What if… what if you had never had a conversation about it, because it would never be on the table? What if… what if who you were wasn’t enough…?

Springing from your spot in a speed you didn’t know you could possess, ache in your chest, you strode towards your desk to pack up your stuff.

You were done for the day.

You had a fucking meal to prepare.

-.-

You were an analyst.

You could analyse hours and hours of footage in a way that took people’s breath away; even Steve’s.

You were a highly capable, efficient and dare to say a very intelligent person.

And you couldn’t figure out a fucking recipe.

Finding the recipe was alright. So was the shopping. But the cooking.

“I am a rational person. I analyse things. I am a capable person,” you chanted under your breath over and over like a mantra, putting the roasting pan in the oven. The result of your hard work looked… interesting, but you had faith (you prayed) that once it would be done, it would turn out okay… -ish.

“Nailed it…” you mumbled as the door of the oven clicked shut, simultaneously with another door opening.

A wide smile spread on your lips as Steve’s keys hit the counter.

“Evening, sweet,” came his voice from the hall and you rushed to greet him, both excited to get your hands on him after a week and utterly relieved to see with your own eyes that he was not severely injured. “I’m home!”

You nearly stumbled over your feet as you finally spotted him, simple t-shirt, leather jacket and jeans; a little miracle in your apartment. He welcomed you with a tiredness and light to his eyes and curiosity to his smile.

“Hey!” you welcomed him breathlessly and all but jumped into his arms.

He chuckled, engulfing you in his embrace, his face nuzzling your hair.

“Hi,” he whispered softly, placing a chaste kiss to your temple. “What smells so good?

You grinned up at him, replying with pride. “Casserole.”

Steve’s eyebrows jumped nearly to his hairline in surprise. “You cooked?”

Too delighted to see him, you took no offence – to be fair, he had a point and his tone danced on the edge of amusement and fondness, so you didn’t even bother to swat his chest with your hand.

“Shut up, smartass… and kiss me,” you pleaded, peeking at his face from under your eyelashes, too aware of what it did to him.

His smile grew wider and softer on the edges, before he obliged happily, his lips meeting yours in a tender slow kiss. He captured your lower lip between his, pulling at it playfully, while his fingers drifted into your hair, cradling your head as if you were the most precious thing he had ever held in his hands.

You sighed into his mouth contentedly, sinking deeper into the kiss, your body melting against his, nearly blending in one. Your palms travelled from his chest to his shoulders and impressive biceps, caressing and gripping when he grazed your lips with his teeth, causing your belly to catch fire.

Withdrawing reluctantly to catch your breath, Steve moved to continue his ministrations on your cheek and your jaw, drawing a breathless chuckle from you.

“I’m so happy to have you home in one piece,” you cooed, capturing his lips with yours again, blissed out.

“I am happy to be home,” he breathed into your mouth. “I missed you.”

Life had a funny way of showing its imperfections. Because a second after that statement, Steve’s stomach made its own.

Blood flushed Steve’s face and you snorted unattractively, retreating for a bit.

“I missed you too. Come on…”

He discarded his shoes at the door before led him through the living room and the kitchen, hand in hand.

“So… why did you decide to cook? Is it… any special occasion?” he pried carefully and it struck you how it actually had to freak him out.

His girlfriend cooking freaked him out. What the hell did that say about you? Swallowing the uneasy feeling of insecurity and shame that rose to your throat, you shrugged it off.

“I just thought you might appreciate a homecooked meal for once. I mean, god knew what you had to eat on the mission…”

Frankly, you weren’t sure that your creation would be any better than the horror you imagined Steve had had to force into his mouth, but hey, you had tried.

Using your hand as a leverage, he pulled you back to his embrace, resting his backside against the counter. One arm sneaking around your waist, his eyes searched an explanation as they locked with yours.

You charmed a smile for him, pretending you weren’t suddenly feeling shaky on your feet. What if you had messed it up?

“Can’t say I don’t. Just surprised, is all. How were you doing the whole week, mm?” he asked and you instantly started going on about your (for once) uneventful days, grateful he let the topic be.

The time seemed to fly, your set alarm announcing that the meal should be ready. You kissed Steve’s nose, twisting out of his arms.

He went to set the table, his confusion apparently returning and you followed him with the pan in your oven-mitted hands.

Serving the dinner appeared to be easy enough and you couldn’t help the sense of pride despite the fact that the result of your efforts didn’t look perfect.  

Steve dived in first and you, afraid of watching his face if the casserole didn’t taste as good as it was supposed to, fixated your gaze on your own plate and started eating as well.

The taste was… peculiar to say at least.

Nope, scratch that, the food tasted… bad. Like… your-taste-buds-possibly-hurt bad. You couldn’t put your finger on it, you were not a cook after all, but… the sensation in your mouth was downright terrible.

Your stomach twisted in a tight knot; you liked to think it was because of the disappointment in yourself and not the food.

Yet, Steve didn’t utter a word, apparently deciding to please you and look grateful. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, your fingers curled around the cutlery with force.

It took you about a minute to gather the courage and look up at Steve’s expression. He sent you a brief smile and the pit in your stomach deepened. What a brave man he was. And he was doing it for you.

He adored you. He was suffering though this, because he just wanted not to upset you. And you couldn’t even cook for him for once. Tears stung in your eyes as you slowly set the cutlery down, inhaling shakily as your heart hammered in your ribcage painfully, anxiety crushing your chest.

Steve followed your example and stopped eating, his brown furrowing in concern when he saw your expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly and you gulped against the lump in your throat, shaking your head and chuckling wryly.

“Me? How are you not on the floor yet, dying of food poisoning?” you questioned, your voice cracking at the end, much to your embarrassment.

It was his turn to swallow nervously, guilt crossing over his face since he had led you on.

“Hey now, it’s not that bad…”

“My taste buds might be scarred, Steve,” you noted coldly, icy fist closing around your heart as you pushed your chair back, fleeing to the living room to sink into the couch.

You covered your face with your palms, hiding your tears as you heard Steve follow.

“I can’t even make a casserole,” you mumbled into your hands. “Christ…“

You more sensed Steve moving around than heard him as he crouched in front of you, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrists to pull your hands away. You stubbornly kept them in place, terrified to look at him.

The feeling of shame at your incapability, embarrassment about your outburst, fear of Steve thinking less of you... it all mingled in you and made it hard for you to breathe. Worries that you were not enough to keep him happy, horrified that he might stay with you out of pity, just like he had been ignoring the disgusting taste in favour of your feelings, because he was simply that good of a man--

The pad of his thumb traced the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, coaxing you into giving in; he wouldn’t use blunt force on you, as much as he possibly wanted to. No, he was too gentle for that.

The thought caused the sobs finally escape your chest.

“Hey, hey,” Steve whispered, panic finding its way to his pleading voice. “Look at me. Come on, sweet. So it didn’t work out, it’s not like a five-star restaurant meal. It’s not the end of the world.”

You sobbed again, stupidly and very much irrationally thinking it just might.

But it wasn’t, right? People were falling out all the time. Relationships didn’t always work out. It would not be the end of the world if Steve decided you were… not the right partner for him.

Your shook your head, sighing simultaneously with another sob choking you.

Resigned, you let Steve to look at your damp face, but couldn’t meet his gaze. One of his hands let go, wiping your tears instead; yet, you bullheadedly stared at the carpet under his feet. He caught you chin between two fingers angling your head slightly so you faced him.

The alarmed expression on his face only added to your overwhelming inner turmoil.

“What’s all that tears about?” he wondered, bewildered. “Why would one failed meal matter so much?”

Failed. What a fitting expression.

“I-I know it‘s- it’s s-stupid,” you hiccupped, averting his gaze again. You faced the ceiling, blinking in attempt to stop the stupid tears. “Fo-fo-for god’s s-sake! I don’t ev-even know why I’m- I’m crying over it.” You were most definitely not crying over a fucking casserole, it was about something much, much worse, but you couldn’t spit that out. “It’s just- Buc-bucky said— and- and I-”

Steve’s sigh was weary as it interrupted your senseless stuttering.

“What did that stupid piece of jerk say to you?”

You quickly shot Steve a glance as his tone carried a certain amount of menace. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault!

“It’s- it’s not im-important-“

“Seeing as you’re upset about it, I beg to differ,” he grumbled, but his tone softened. “You can tell me, sweet. Please?”

Damn his interrogation methods! Your heart ached as he begged you to explain what was wrong. You debated yourself for only a short moment, the determination to keep your mouth shut breaking.

You inhaled shaky breath, fixating your gaze at your joined hands.

“A good wife,” you started, quickly realizing your mistake. “Not that I want to get married!” Nope, even worse. “Not that I don’t want to get married! It’s just… oh god, this is so stupid… he said that a proper woman should be able to make a good casserole. That it’s kind of a… a deal-breaker.”

It didn’t ease the pressure in your ribcage, no; Steve seemingly didn’t feel any better with your admission either. Apparently, you stunned him into silence. The air was heavy, suffocating your lungs and you could feel your heart slowly breaking.

“A deal-breaker,” Steve echoed dully and you closed your eyes, awaiting his reaction. “I see,” he muttered, rising to his feet and planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

He caressed the top of your head and strode away from you as if he was on a mission, heading straight to the bedroom. You heard the wardrobe opening and some shuffling.

Oh god.

Panicked he was determined to end this relationship right here and now, you sobbed again, running your fingers through your messy damp hair, scrambling to your feet as well.

“S-steve?” you called out shakily, but before you could follow his path, his voice responded.

“Just getting you a handkerchief, sweet.”

Truth to his word, his large figure soon appeared in the room, coaxing and leading you to sit back as he handed you the cloth. He nestled on the floor again, sitting back on his heels, letting you blow your nose in an unladylike manner, stealing one of your hands just to draw gentle circles on its back.

All of sudden, you felt humiliated even more. Of course, Steve wouldn’t just pack his bag and leave. Not without talking first at least.

Wiping the tip of your nose and drying the last ridiculous tears, you watched him as he observed you, curious and searching in your face – what for, you couldn’t quite figure out.

The corners of his lips rose in a soft supportive smile and you couldn’t find words to express how ashamed you were for your outburst; for your incapability to cook as well, yes, but the tantrum…

Steve’s fingers tucked your hair behind your ear so he could see you better, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“There’s my gorgeous girl. Better?”

You only nodded frantically, averting his gaze once more, unable to face the kindness in his cerulean eyes. It was why it startled you when he spoke again.

“You’re right,” he exclaimed and your head instantly snapped back to him, finding his features subtly twisted into a serious expression. “Bucky was right. It was a true deal-breaker. You apparently can’t make a casserole.”

You gulped, well-aware that he was about to make a different point. Steve wasn’t one to kick you while you were already low. Still; the reminder stung, bluntly thrown between you. Not even the twinkle in his eyes fixed the nudge at your conscience.

“But you can make me smile,” he offered gently and your heart felt warmer, your shoulders losing some of the tension in them. “Hell, you make me laugh.”

At that, you managed to charm a smile for him. A little strained, but a smile nonetheless.

“Look at ‘dat pretty smile on such swell dame,” he drawled, this time drawing a chuckle from you as his accent peeked through.

Gosh, how you loved this man. Allowing yourself to relax as you recognized that whatever crisis you had thought was on didn’t exist.

You covered his hand on yours with your other, squeezing. “Thank you, Stevie. I’m sorry for-“

“You also make this apartment a home,” he interrupted you warmly, cocking his head to side. “You make me feel things, want things I wasn’t sure I wanted anymore. You make me…”

Stunned into silence by his sudden declaration of love, tears stinging in your eyes once more, this time for a different reason, you could only watch and listen, your heart speeding up in anticipation of… something, as one of his eyebrows rose, a mischievous quirk to his lips.

“You make me want to do filthy things, just by being you, walking by. You make me want to join in when I come home to you singing and dancing around the counter-“

“Oh my god,” you whined, feeling the frantic heat rushing up your cheeks, and went to cover your face with your palms in embarrassment, but Steve’s hands locked around yours stubbornly, so you just squeezed your eyes shut like a child thinking that such action would hide them from everyone’s sight. A choked chuckle escaped your lips, followed by Steve’s own.

He brought your joined hands to his lips, planting a kiss on your skin.

Your brain and heart melted at the gentle gesture, full of devotion. Your glassy eyes found his, inviting and shining with something your mind didn’t seem to be able to grasp.

“You make me greedy and… maybe a bit possessive when another man tries and flirts with you. You make me giddy to come back to you. You make me want to show you and everyone else that I love you, no matter who’s looking. You make me happy,” he finished, his voice falling to a whisper, intimate and sweet, one that caused your whole body to shiver.

You blinked away the wetness of your eyes, surprised to find few tears welling up in Steve’s as well.

“Steve… I- I can’t even-- I-“ you stumbled over the thousands of words swirling in your head, not making any sense at all, but humming with overwhelming feeling of adoration.

Apparently, he didn’t mind, because he cleared his throat, easing one of his hands from the tangled mess of limbs in your lap, his fingers sneaking into the pocket of his jeans as he shifted his position a bit, all of sudden taller, face to face with you as he kneeled.

On one knee.

With a box laid on his palm.

A very distinctively sized box.

Your heart stopped, your breath hitching in your throat, your lips parting. For a fraction of second, the only thing that existed was the mesmerizing blue and green of Steve’s eyes, the world falling silent, not even your pulse drumming in your ears; and then it started hammering frantically, filling your eardrums with cotton, muffling Steve’s next words to a barely audible level.

“And…” he granted himself a deep inhale, one lick of his lips as if his mouth suddenly felt as dry as yours. “And you could make me the luckiest man in the world… if you said yes?”

You bit your lower lip with almost enough force to draw blood.

You hand shook as it found Steve’s cheek, fascinated and in utter disbelief at what was happening, what he was… proposing.

How this disaster of a night turned out like this, bringing the one thing that was so unexpected it nearly caused you vertigo?

Because Steve was there, kneeling in front of you, with a ring, which meant that he wasn’t only reacting to your freak-out, asking out of pity, wishing to reassure you; no, he must have thought about it before, possibly even planned it to happen in a certain time horizon.

“Please, marry me?” he whispered, gulping as you continued just staring at him, too shocked and delighted to form a single word.

But you had to. Christ, you craved to; however, it was so damn difficult to say one syllable that would change your life forever.

How was this happening?

Silence stretched and you could see Steve’s features hardening just a tiny bit, his brows furrowing a millimetre, the pools of his eyes transforming into the most effective and back-stabbing puppy eyes he could pull.  

As if I were about to say ‘no’ before.

If it was only the spur of the moment, if he went to the nearest vending machine to buy you a ring for a dollar, you might have considered hesitating. But this was clearly something Steve wanted, might have been wanting for a while.

There was never any other option for you. No different answer.

“Yes,” you finally found your voice and Steve’s shoulders fell, his eyelids sliding shut as he let out a sigh of relief and you couldn’t but chuckle, high on giddiness as you repeated the word over and over. “Yes, yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you-“

“Oh thank god,” Steve muttered as you continued your silly monotonous monologue of agreement and he delicately slid a ring on your left hand; a shaky hand. To be fair, his own trembled as well.

And then his lips shut you up as he sealed the deal with a kiss of a century, a kiss sparkling with delight and love, with a promise of a beautiful future; beautiful, because it would belong to the two of you together.

Breathless, you stole a second as you pulled away, meeting Steve’s gaze radiating happiness.

“But are you sure? I can‘t even make a casser-“

“Fuck Barnes and his casserole, I know what I want from my future wife,” Steve snarled, rising to his full height, swinging you to his arms bridal style with one swift movement, making you shriek and laugh as you quickly steadied yourself by gripping on his shoulder.

He grinned down at you, seemingly endlessly content with you in his arms. Oh, you definitely were.

“And what that might be?” you suggested coyly, high on the electricity of the moment, drunk on the sudden festive atmosphere.

“Right now? I want the two of us to make love…” he growled playfully at you, heading to the bedroom with a swing in his step. “And if you want, we can try to make a baby…” he continued, his tone growing a little menacing once more. “And then I’m gonna go and punch Buck in his face for making my future wife cry. All in the right time…”

“All in the right time,” you echoed drowsily and met Steve’s eager lips halfway to yours.

-.-.- bonus -.-.-

Bucky looked up from the screen when a knock sounded, the visitor entering without waiting for permission.

Before he could even think of snapping at them, he noticed the familiar and yet so unfamiliar figure of his best friend, once a wheezing little guy, now a supersoldier who barely fit to the door.

“Hey Buck!” Steve greeted him with a grin, lifting a plastic bag with a food container. “Brought you something!”

Seeing the container, Bucky’s tired form perked up.

Sustenance! Homecooked, probably. God, yes please.

Steve chuckled at Bucky’s delighted expression. “What’s that?”

“Casserole,” Steve said simply, laying the bag on Bucky’s desk with no regards for the papers scattered there. Any other day, Bucky might have scolded him, but obviously, a homecooked meal had priority. “Leftovers from dinner my fiancée cooked yesterday.”

The brunet eagerly opened the container, feasting his eyes on the content, saliva already pooling in his mouth. Ah, so she had listened, she coo-

His heart positively stopped when the meaning of Steve’s words finally registered, his head snapping to Steve, who wore a bashful smile on his lips.

“No shit! Congratulation, man!”

Steve’s smile widened, a very much visible happy twinkle in his eye and Bucky couldn’t but jump to his feet and pull the blond into a fierce hug, patting his back.

“My man! You’re such a punk! How did it happen? How did you even-“

Steve reciprocated the hug, but shook his head. “We’ll tell everyone, but for now you’re the only one who knows it happened in the first place. Thanks. I gotta run, actually.”

“To celebrate, I hope, Steven! Ce-le-brate!”

“We did,” Steve uttered with a mischievous grin and at that, Bucky made a face, but patted his shoulder once more. It wasn’t every day his best pal proposed, he could survive that visual for once.

“I bet you did.”

Steve chuckled once more, heading for the door. Bucky, now excited both at his friend’s succces and the food, wiped the coffee spoon from his tea and dug in, parking his backside to his chair once more.

He felt his lips twist in a scowl at the strange taste, rolling the bite in his mouth, displeased. He noticed Steve hesitating by the door, his eyebrow raised as if expectantly.

For a moment, Bucky considered lying, but… he didn’t have the heart. Jesus, this was disgusting, he couldn’t possibly let him-

Bucky forced himself to swallow before speaking up.

“Steve… sorry, but this is terrible.”

A smirk only describable as fucking cocky spread on the blond’s lips. “I know. Good thing I’m marrying her and not you, huh? For me, a good casserole ain’t no dealbreaker!”

And with that, Steve left the office, his shoulders shaking with hushed laughter.

Bucky eyed the food in front of him with distaste, ruminating over Steve’s words.

“…well-played, Mrs. Rogers. Well-played.”

-.-.-

S.R.masterlist

-.-.-

Thanks for reading ;) If you enjoyed, please, consider letting me know in any way :))

Merry Christmas to you all (aka Veselé Vánoce vám všem!)

P.S. - blame the bonus on @eliza5616​ who asked about Bucky’s fate. Thanks!

[vegalocity]

A Curse of Feathers and Mud

So y’all know how it’s implied that Eda was Stan’s Ex-Wife Marilyn? Well I was thinking some thoughts at work and was like ‘what if they stayed together’ So here we are

Ao3 link

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Edalyn Clawthorne—or apparently as far as the human world was concerned, Marilyn Forrester—Was tired of the Boiling Isles and if she didn't still need to keep Elixirs on hand, she'd never return, throw the folding door and the key over a ravine and resign herself to never seeing her homeland again.

She'd had her curse for a little over a decade at this point, but had only recently learned the truth about it. A lump formed in the back of her throat at the memory of her Sisters shouting. Eda's bounty had just jumped another zero and Lilith had been 'lucky' to catch her while she was doing some self training on the Knee. And she... they'd gotten arguing and God-! She hadn't even SEEN Lilith since she'd ran from the Coven Ceremony!

And THAT was her pitch to try and get her in?! 'Hey I cursed you when you were fourteen! Come join this system you hate and could never be happy under and serve this tyrant that brainwashed everyone in the goddamn land to practically worship him so he can fix what I did to you so I don't have to do it and take responcibility for my actions! Everything will be fine!' Lilith was lucky she'd still been recovering from a curse flare up and she'd just ran, else she might not have been able to control herself.

She'd ran back to her cabin—she'd been considering making a House Demon for the place, but it would need to be more than two rooms before the demon would have enough space to thrive, Eda was a lot of things, but a neglectful demon owner was not one of them—packed a bag with some human clothes and an armful of her stash of Elixirs and left for the human world. She'd needed to get away and the furthest she could think of was the human world.

Which was, of course, how she'd met Hal.

It was just some stupid scheme of hers that ended up blending in nicely with a scheme of his own, the two of them had caught on to eachothers game and played off of eachother until they had enough to split a hot meal.

She did her best to seem as though she knew exactly what she was doing, and thankfully Dollars weren't too different in setup than Snails were. And she hadn't been overly hungry her gut still turning and churning from the previous day's discoveries, so she let Hal have most of the yellow salty sticks that came with the sandwich.

“So, what's your name?” He'd asked, a mouth full of tomato blood—well, not REALLY tomato blood, it was too viscous and salty, but it was the closest approximation she'd had at the time—and brown eyes flickering to her ears—thankfully still covered by her mountain of orange hair.

“Edalyn.” She'd answered easily. It's not like she was anybody in the Human world. Her name was only dangerous on the Boiling Isles.

“Marilyn...?” he fished, and Eda had been just about to correct him, before deciding against it. New world new her.

“Marilyn Blight.”

“Hal Forrester, nice to meet ya.”

So they'd ran some schemes together since it made it a little easier and eventually earned enough to hit the Casinos in town.

Maybe Hal was just lonely, in how quickly he'd taken to Eda, and maybe She was just desparate for the idea that she could actually do this, could actually run away to the human world and just drop back into the boiling isles when her Elixir runs dry. But eventually, high on adrenaline and the mutual sense of dispair, the two of them found themselves in a drive by chapel. He didn't have a ring for her, so He promised that that would be the first thing they got with their winnings once the stint in 'Vegas' was over.

Of course when they left Vegas it wasn't easily. The Goons for whatever powers controlled the human world in their screaming cars tearing across the road behind them, And for a moment, Eda was tempted to leave. To pull Owlbert from where she'd hidden him, take the Vegas winnings she had in her lap, and leave. Open the door while they were at this speed, say something snarky like 'I think we should see other people' and jump out, her staff there to catch her.

But if she did... where the hell would she even go? The Owl Lady had a hundred thousand snail bounty on the Boiling Isles, and she didn't want to return there unless either she HAD to, or she was READY to. And the last thing she wanted was the chance to somehow cross paths with her sister again. Eventually Belos would start actually sending agents out to find her, and knowing her Sister, Lilith would be the first to volunteer. And she was NOT ready for that yet.

“I have an idea, do NOT slow down.”

“Wasn't dreamin' of it, toots.” 

Magic was harder here, this place didn't have magic pouring from its very core, it was a magic vacuum. Everything Eda made took almost twice as much magic as it would back hom- Back on the Boiling Isles. She'd probably need to chug an elixir a day earlier than normal. Damn things... She used to only need to take them once a month, but now it's come to a weekly basis. Maybe someday she'd have to guzzle the things like a morning apple blood.

Eda took a breath and drew a circle, the amber magic flashing only breifly before an Illusion was crafted, pulling away from them as the illusionary car stopped abruptly, the loud screech of tires against stone barely audible. The Goons behind them so startled as to not crash into their 'targets' not a one noticed the trickery for what it was.

Hal, for his part, didn't falter, she saw him startle slightly as he saw the illusion in the rearview mirror, his eyes widening and his hands scrambling over the steering wheel, but he kept his cool.

“What the hell was that?!” was the first thing out of his mouth when they'd crossed territories, into some place called 'Utah'.

Soooo maybe he didn't take it like a CHAMP, but he did take it.

Well, Eda was in it now. She had a fake name that was a wanted woman, she was in a marriage of convienence—Eda had always had a torrid romantic history but even she knew that this wasn't based in love, it was too soon, this was just mutual desperation for contact—with a human, and while she could return to Bonesbourough whenever she pleased, she found that, she still didn't want to.

“Edalyn is my real name, with an 'E'. Edalyn Clawthorne. Back home they call me the Owl Lady, I'm one of the most powerful witches on the Boiling Isles.”

And Hal had let out a nervous chuckle, Owlbert hopping down from Eda's staff and resting on his shoulder curiously. He took a deep breath and introduced himself as Stan Pines.

Though they both chose to keep the fake names for the next couple of states. A married couple looked better as an explination than just a pair of wandering people who decided to stick together after all.

Eda had barely realized a year had passed until she was on her... tenth run back to Bonesbourough for her next supply of Elixir, Stan had come with her—so long as he swore to keep the hood of his jacket up over his head so people wouldn't notice his ears—and ran her Human Curioscities stand for her as she did her business. And... okay, Stan was NOT a better salesman than she was, they were on pretty even footing, he'd simply grown up in the Human world while Eda had only been living there for a year. He knew more intimately how the curiosities worked so he knew how to better market them to others.

And HIS face wasn't the one on the wanted posters that she'd seen periodically around the marketplace. So the Conformatorium's Mooks left him alone.

When she came back, her newest crate of Elixir under her arm, over half of their stock had been cleared out, Stan humming a song about counting money to himself.

And you know... they weren't in love. Not really. Maybe on some level he was trying to replace that brother she'd heard him mention in passing with her. And maybe on some level she was just trying to prove to herself that her own sister hadn't ruined her life by making one of her own.

But they could maybe find a way to be happy. Just Maybe.