#anyway i just think they’re silly and this is a good week for fluff

[quinn-pop]

you guys should grow old together or something

they’re so :| and :3 to me

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

PAIRING | Joaquín Torres x f!Reader

TAGS/WARNINGS | just tons of fluff, and doggos!

SUMMARY | Joaquín is fiercely protective of all the VA’s service dogs in training, so when Sam informs him that there’s a new volunteer arriving to help take care of the pups, Joaquín is prepared to use any excuse to veto anyone who comes in through those doors… until you’re the one who walks in, and he knows he’s lost.

WORD COUNT | 2.0k

⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ NAVIGATION | | JOAQUÍN TORRES M.LIST ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆

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✧.* In the Golden Hour

Sam sighs. It’s only ten in the morning and he’s already tired.

Joaquín sits on the floor in one of the VA’s designated meeting rooms, arms crossed over his chest, looking uncharacteristically grumpy even surrounded by six happy dogs poking and prodding at him with their noses.

“You know, you could… I don’t know, help?” Sam says, sidestepping a rogue tennis ball as he stacks up a few chairs and moves them to the back of the room. “What’s your problem anyway?”

“I wanna vet ‘em.”

“Too bad. I already told them they could start today.”

“Without consulting me?!” Joaquín sits up a little straighter now, indignant. Bailey, a curious little beagle, whines now that his face is out of reach and she can’t smother him in kisses.

“And since when did I need your approval, kid?”

“But I’m Mav’s handler,” the younger man insists, and a golden retriever who’s been lying sprawled across a sunlit patch just an arm’s reach away lifts his head, as though recognizing the sound of his name. “I should have a say on who comes in to take care of him when I’m not here.”

Mav, or Maverick, lets out a cheerful woof! His mouth then falls open in that silly golden grin that melts the hearts of everyone he meets, his tongue lolling to the side.

“See? He agrees with me,” Joaquín points at his latest pet project, no pun intended. He reaches over to give Mav some much deserved belly scratches. “Don’t you, buddy?”

“Don’t encourage him, Mav,” Sam half-heartedly scolds, and Maverick slumps back onto the floor with a high-pitched whine. “And you’ve already scared away plenty of volunteers. You think they’re easy to come by, or what?”

“I’m protective of the pups, okay? You can’t blame me for that,” Joaquín points out defensively, softening just a little when Daisy, a sweet and predictably excitable Labrador attacks his extended arm, wanting to play. “…And Mav’s special.”

It’s not that Joaquín doesn’t trust Sam’s judgment, and it is true that he’s protective of all the service dogs in training, but Mav is special.

Joaquín found him when he was still just a pup, a few weeks shy of a year old according to the vet, in some war-torn zone while overseas. It was instinct, he didn’t even think as he scooped up the trembling fur ball and brought him back to base.

While the Air Force weren’t strangers to welcoming golden retrievers among their ranks, Joaquín knew immediately that Mav could do the most good as a therapy dog. With Sam’s help, he got the smiley goldie a spot in the PAWS program and the rest was history.

And it was impossible not to get attached.

So while he’s not opposed to handing over Mav’s leash for a few hours a day, especially now that he’s the Falcon to Sam’s Captain America and he doesn’t always have the time to dedicate to the program, the last thing he wants is for some inexperienced volunteer to come in and mess up Mav’s progress.

“Wow, did you guys hear that?” Sam feigns shock, addressing the other dogs in the room. “Your lieutenant has a favourite.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t do that,” Joaquín winces, not daring to look over at the innocent stares of the VA’s latest round of recruits. “Don’t turn them against me.”

“Hey, you incriminated yourself,” Sam points at him before shaking his head, “I wouldn’t look at Jax if I were you. That look of betrayal—oof.”

“Listen, can’t you just—I don’t know, tell me more about this person?” Joaquín asks, hazarding a glance over at Jax the Doberman, who looks back at him with shining, watery eyes. He’s hit with a pang of guilt, one he tries to remedy by pulling Jax in for a cuddle.

“You’re being too protective,” Sam rolls his eyes. “The new volunteer is good with them, alright? She—”

“These guys would love a serial killer if he gave them treats,” Joaquín scoffs, ignoring the way Axel, a German Shepherd, seems to tilt his head with indignity. “Also… she?”

“Is that a problem? Damn, didn’t know you were like that, Torres,” Sam’s eyes widen, but there’s a telltale smirk on his face that says he’s just kidding around.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” the young Falcon rolls his eyes, although he softens a little when Bailey starts pawing at his knee for some attention. He scratches her affectionately under one floppy ear. “I just mean… well, she needs to be able to handle Beau, for one thing.”

Beau the Rottweiler then jumps up at attention when Joaquín points at him, barking once, twice, as though saying, “I’m here!”

He only looks intimidating, honest. In reality, Beau’s just another gentle giant. Still, if he decides to go running off chasing squirrels on his next walk, most people wouldn’t stand a chance against his speed and strength.

“Why do you think we call him ‘Beau’, huh?” Sam just grins even wider, bending over to pat the Rottweiler on the head. Beau laps up the attention, his bum wriggling excitedly with each wag of his tail. “He’s a total sucker for a pretty face. Aren’t ya, boy?”

“Well, duh, that’s why he likes me so much,” Joaquín grins when Beau huffs as if in agreement, tickling him under his chin. And then, he can’t help asking: “Alright, how pretty we talkin’?”

“God, is that important?”

“Wha-? You just said—!”

“Yeah, but you need to keep the flirting to a minimum, alright? This is a professional environment.”

“Oh, come on, when have I ever—”

“Literally all the time, you incorrigible little…” Sam trails off, exasperated, not wanting to call Joaquín something incredibly rude. “I swear, you should come with a warning.”

Joaquín just smirks at that, picking up the tennis ball when Axel brings it to him, tossing it across the room and starting a flurry of movement and a chorus of joyful barks.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Eh, depends on how you look at it.”

“Okay,” Sam scoffs, “so you’re done giving me crap about the volunteer?”

“Nah, I’m not letting you, or her, off the hook that easily,” Joaquín then looks over at Maverick, who has moved to join the other dogs in the chase for the ball. He and Daisy are play fighting over it. “Alright, well, if I can’t vet her, then I at least wanna meet her first.”

“You’re only saying that because I said she’s pretty,” Sam grabs the dogs’ leashes that are hanging from a hook on the wall, letting out a sharp whistle that echoes off the walls. All of them obediently fall into line, plodding over when they see their leashes out.

“Please,” Joaquín rolls his eyes, “how pretty can she be?”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that one,” Sam shakes his head, attaching the leashes to the dogs’ harnesses, camouflage-patterned with the words “ARMY” and their names stitched onto them.

Joaquín laughs now, catching the handles to the leashes that Sam tosses toward him. Daisy is connected to Beau and Maverick, while the others are grouped together, all somewhat evenly distributed.

“What, you gonna snitch or somethin—” he starts to fire back, but then movement in the hallway catches his eye. Joaquín glances out the door and almost chokes.

Because walking in through the doorway is easily the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“Hi Sam—oh!”

Your eyes just light up when you see the dogs, like the moment just before a sparkler catches. Joaquín scrambles to his feet just as you fall to your knees to welcome Axel into your arms, who is the first one to run up to you.

The rest follow eagerly to say hello to their new friend, just swarming you. Beau pokes his head under your arm, Jax is so eager for kisses that he knocks you off your feet and onto your backside, and Bailey immediately jumps into your lap. Daisy is attacking your face, making you squeal when she licks a stripe up your cheek.

“Okay guys, okay!” You’re giggling, and Joaquín has to take a second to inhale, like he’s trying to breathe in that laugh. “Pets for everyone, but wait your turn!”

The dogs don’t listen, just continue giving you sloppy kisses and nose boops. Maverick goes bounding over, the only one of the bunch you haven’t met yet, and noses curiously at the soles of one of your shoes.

Joaquín doesn’t stop him. In fact, he barely registers the fact that he’s let go of the leashes.

“Why, hello there,” you coo, letting Mav sniff the back of your hand before you start petting him in earnest. You check his harness, smiling as you read his name out loud. “Well, aren’t you a handsome one, Maverick?”

The golden retriever looks to his handler, as though proud, like he’s saying, “Did you hear that? She said I’m handsome!”

Joaquín’s never been so jealous of a dog in his entire life.

Once the dogs have finished saying hello and have calmed down a little, you stand up, trying not to trip over them as they circle your legs.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” you clear your throat sheepishly. Sam smiles triumphantly, turning to give Joaquín the smuggest of looks, only to roll his eyes at what he finds. The kid’s earlier skepticism and indignation is nowhere to be seen, only the most idiotic smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Along with the most obvious pair of heart eyes mankind has ever seen.

Joaquín grins. Your hair is slightly dishevelled now, and your nice jacket is covered in dog drool and dog hair but you don’t seem to care. Instead, you just catch his eye and smile.

“Oh, you must be Lieutenant Torres,” and then you step closer and hold out a hand. He can smell your perfume or your shampoo, whatever it is, and for a second he can’t seem to form any words. You glance uneasily over at Sam, who just shrugs.

“Um—yeah,” Joaquín blinks and shakes his head a little, taking your hand with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm. Maybe he even holds on a little longer than is necessary. “Please, just Joaquín is fine.”

“Sure, Joaquín,” your smile grows wider and he can’t help but watch, enraptured, as your lips form the sounds of his name.

“So… the dogs, uh, they really like you.”

“Oh, you think so?” You visibly melt, pressing a hand over your heart. “Thank god, it’s the best endorsement I’ve ever gotten.”

“Well, you know what they say: dogs are a good judge of character,” he offers. You laugh and he chuckles along, all breathless and smitten. To the side, Sam lets out a scoff but he can’t bring himself to care.

“I thought you said they’d love serial killers—” But Sam doesn’t get to finish, Joaquín stepping forward hurriedly to pick up the dogs’ leashes off the floor.

“Hey, I’ve got some time…” Joaquín says, not at all subtle or casual. He steps a little closer, offering you the leashes, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh when your fingers brush his. “Maybe I can show you their favourite route.”

You glance over at Sam, who rolls his eyes so hard you think they might get stuck. Still, you smile up at Joaquín.

“Lead the way, Lieutenant,” you gesture to the door, giggling when he dips his head shyly and slowly jogs toward the door.

You turn back to Sam, smirking as you whisper, “I thought you said he’d give me a hard time?”

“Yeah, well, he’s a pain in my ass, that’s for sure.”

“…He’s cute.”

“Ugh, I oughta throw up in your face.”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Ready?” Joaquín then pops his head back into the room to ask. You spin around, nonchalant, and nod, letting the dogs tug you excitedly towards the door.

Sam watches you all go, huffing a laugh when Joaquín bends dramatically at the waist as he opens the door for you. Shaking his head, Sam turns away to finish reorganizing the room and mutters to himself, “Guess Beau’s not the only sucker around here.”

Outside on the sidewalk, Beau sneezes.

FIN.

Notes: I love these two already, so I miiiiight do a part 2 eventually, one day, idk.

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. Do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. No part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. Minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. Blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[1d1195]

Under Construction III

Read Under Construction here | ~7.8k

From Me: this is a mess but I think it's cute

Warning: like two seconds of blood and then fluff and angsty shit

Summary: “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It wasn’t lunch time, so Harry wasn’t standing by the fence like a certified creep. “Mr. Harry!” Someone shouted. He instinctively turned toward the field and found the gaggle of cuties lined up at the edge of the field. How he didn’t hear them approach was beyond him.

They were led by none other than the cutest woman of all. Today she wore a long green jacket. Black pants peeked out from it. Her coat had a tie fabric cinching her waist. Harry never paid much attention to what his date wore, but everything on her made her look three times as adorable if it were even possible.

He gave a wave, heading over to the group. “Hey everyone,” he greeted. “Early recess?” He asked.

They all glanced at her making sure it was okay to answer. “Go ahead, you know what to say,” she encouraged.

Harry remembered Amara (the little girl who bent her neck back at an incredible angle to chat with him last week) as she stepped forward to look up at him once more. “Miss Bee said our sandwich party is going to be on Halloween. So you can dress up as your dream job.”

He smirked and glanced at her. “What if this is m’dream job?” Because there wasn’t a world in which it wasn’t. Not if fate and destiny put him precisely at her side just because he got this job. It was the best job in the world.

They looked at her again. “That’s okay,” she affirmed with a laugh.

“Sometimes Miss Bee has silly rules, so we have to check.”

“I beg your pardon, they’re not silly!” She frowned with mock annoyance.

“Mr. Niall can come too!” Another one said excitedly.

“We’ve been really good in math too, so we get to ask you question too!” Kai bounced with energy that seemed quite misplaced in asking two construction workers about their jobs.

“Janie, do you want to give Mr. Harry what you brought?”

Harry watched as another little girl stepped forward. She held two folded pieces of construction paper, and she handed them up and toward Harry at the fence. “It’s made out of construction paper. Like your job,” she said explained as if Harry hadn’t a clue what it was. “One’s for Mr. Niall too.”

“Miss Bee wrote the cover part and then we all got to make a page each.”

Harry was enthralled with the cover. It had her extremely beautiful handwriting. Though he was pretty sure every little thing she did was beautiful. There were 3-D stickers of Halloween items placed sporadically across the page but still maintained a fun holiday aesthetic.

Please join us for our Halloween Sand-Witch party. Wednesday, October 31st at 11:45 AM. Please RSVP to Miss Bee and let her know if you have any allergies.

He flipped quickly seeing a variety of hand-drawn pictures. The drawings could only be himself and Niall munching on sandwiches the following week at their party. Along with a variety of varying six-year-old signatures, and so forth.

Harry smiled, his eye catching hers. This was almost as good as asking her on a date and hearing her say yes. A handwritten invitation was a dream come true. It didn’t matter to him in the slightest that the little party was going to be spent with twenty kindergarteners and his best friend either. Because she was going to be there dressed as something adorable, he was sure, and he couldn’t wait.

“We’d love t’attend,” he told them. She smiled shyly as the little ones cheered.

“Alright, Kindergarten... it’s time we head back now that the guys are invited,” she waved to Harry. “Say see you later to Mr. Harry.”

“See you later alligator!” Someone shouted, causing the rest to giggle uncontrollably.

She shook her head and smiled fondly at her group of funny children and headed back toward the school building peering back to catch Harry’s eye again.

*

On Friday, she was preparing for the following week as always. It had been raining hard all day long, so Under Construction wasn’t next door. Moreover, there was no outdoor recess so there was no way she would have seen him anyway. It made her miss Harry.

It seemed a little ridiculous that she would fall so quickly for an almost total stranger. Especially when she was so cautious about falling for anyone after Evan.

She met Evan while out with friends for a birthday dinner. He said he was drawn to her, a moth to a flame, the whole bit. He told her she was pretty, lovely, sweet, etc. Evan was handsome, talented, and funny. At first, he was excessively kind. Flowers every week, asked her to move in only three months in, told her he couldn’t live without her.

He worked for a financial company. One that made him a lot of money so he could afford a big house—bigger than two people without kids conceivably needed. But it was for their future. Evan’s job required many business meetings and parties that left her feeling completely drained socially and financially. Every party required a new fancy outfit that she didn’t want to pay for. He made her go to golfing fundraisers (even though she hated golf) and helped him with parties at his place for clients and partners alike.

All while she tried to get her bearings in her first two years of teaching.

Evan never attended a school event. He didn’t help her move her furniture in her classroom. He didn’t understand why she would go to work on days she wasn’t getting paid to set things up. He didn’t get that the magic inside a classroom happened outside of school hours, and it was well worth the time she put into it. There was no help from him putting bulletin boards together and he certainly wouldn’t be caught dead on her colorful carpet laminating on a Tuesday afternoon.

She finished her planning and clicked into another tab on her computer to look at the to-do lists that never seemed to get any shorter. She had a section for classroom improvements, stain her bookshelves, inquire about fixing the outlets, find more shelving, paint her rocking chair, and more. There was so much.

After their breakup—the one instigated by Evan because she was spending too much time at school—she moved into a tiny little house on her own. It was no more than a one-bedroom apartment. Just enough space for herself and she loved it, but it also needed so much work. There was the roof that leaked in the rain in the same spot, one of the stove burners didn’t work, one of the windows in the living room was so stiff shut she couldn’t move it. Her bedroom seemed poorly insulated and was freezing in the winter, the tile flooring in her bathroom was cracked in several places. But it was home. The cutest little place she had ever seen. The living room was filled with books, and the dining table was a spot for her tutoring sessions.

The kitchen always smelled like cookies or brownies. Things that she brought to her parent’s house on Wednesday evenings when she, her siblings, and anyone available in her family gathered for a meal together. Her sister’s fiancée begged for muffins at least once a month and she smirked at the thought.

There wasn’t enough time and there wasn’t enough energy she could muster to fix her place up. There were more pressing matters. Trying to eat well, exercise, get her master’s degree. Visiting her parents and helping her sister with her wedding. It was exhausting.

She was jolted from her thoughts by a knock on her outside door. She put a hand on her heart, not anticipating a knock as it was downpouring. It was four-thirty in the afternoon on a Friday. All her co-workers hightailed it out of there shortly after the buses had left. Slowly, cautiously, she walked over to the door seeing Harry smiling in the small window. He had a black raincoat on, the hood keeping his pretty face from getting wet.

Immediately she opened the door. “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Sorry ‘bout m’coat,” he frowned as it dripped on the floor. “S’raining cats and dogs out there,” he shrugged out of the coat and snapped it outside, a tiny little overhang keeping it the smallest bit dry. He slung it on the back of an upturned chair on one of her tables, so it dripped below to the floor. He frowned and headed toward the bathroom for paper towels. “I’ll take care of this before we leave,” he promised placing a bunch of towels below the dripping coat.

She stared at him. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

He turned slightly, smiling up at her while he knelt next to his watery mess. “S’Friday, wanted t’see what y’needed help with for next week.”

She blinked. “But... you didn’t work today.”

“As a matter of fact, I did work. I had a meeting about our progress and talked to suppliers about materials and such,” he said proudly, the dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Oh... I meant... outside,” she shook her head. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

He chuckled quietly as she tried to back track. “S’fine, Bird. I knew what y’meant. Don’t worry ‘bout it. No, ‘course with the rain it puts us back a day or two, so I had t’be productive in other ways.”

There was something wrong with her, because that was one of the hottest sentences she had ever heard anyone say and he was merely talking about productivity.

“Um...” she swallowed. “I don’t need... you didn’t... you came all the way here?”

“S’not too far from m’place actually,” he said with a shrug. He headed toward her desk to see her little piles of what needed to be accomplished. He hoped to find something labeled Monday, or maybe something that needed to be cut or stapled together. Instead, he found her to-do list opened on her computer. “What’s this?” He asked, glancing at her screen.

“Oh... don’t look at that, they’re... they’re nothing. Just... they’re my to-do—”

“Your roof leaks?” He asked looking up at her in shock. He also looked completely hurt. Like it was unimaginable that she kept that from him. “Bird, why didn’t you say something? I would have—”

“Stop,” she put her hand on her chest feeling it ache with want for him. Adoration for him. Something that felt dangerously close to the feelings she had when she first started dating Evan and he brought her flowers every week. “Harry,” she said softly. “I am so appreciative of you coming down here and helping me, but you don’t have to. It’s likely I can’t reciprocate or—”

His eyes dropped to her computer again scanning the list, ignoring her and wondering what else she needed done. “Bird, you’re cold?” He asked. She felt like she was in trouble. Her throat tightening over the emotion she felt. It was a long day—but all of them were long. Her weeks felt endless. And she was cold. So lonely in that cold, damp, tiny place she lived no matter how much she loved it. “Kitten,” he whispered quietly.

“Stop,” she begged. “Please stop.”

“Bird,” he frowned. “Y’should have said something. I can bring Niall t’look at it, we can fix it up in a minute—”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Harry, I’m begging; please stop.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Y’would never let one of your students have a problem like this,” he turned from her computer, strode across the room to her, and put a hand on her hip while pulling her toward him. She looked away from him, ignored the sparks that burst from the touch on her waist. She shook her head.

“It’s not important.”

He gently touched her cheek turning her gaze back to him. His finger resting beneath her chin. “You’re not important?” He questioned. “Y’know how ridiculous y’sound, right? I’ve known you less than a month and I think y’might be the most important person I know.”

She swallowed and shrugged. “There’s more pressing matters,” she whispered. “I have this classroom to worry about and little minds to mold. My sister’s getting married, and my mom needs—”

“All that is more pressing than y’not catching a cold?”

“I-I... I’m not going to... I don’t—”

He rubbed his thumb across her lip making all of the words in her head disappear. “Bird, you’re going t’make yourself sick.”

Was this what it was supposed to feel like? In all the time she dated Evan, there wasn’t much worry about her. It was usually a worry about what she wasn’t doing or couldn’t do because she was busy. There was never a worry about stretching herself too thin or making her do more because he wanted her to be part of his stuff.

One lone tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head immediately, moving his hand from her face in hopes he wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. “Hey,” he whispered gently. “Bird, my love,” his voice was so soft it made her feel warm again. “Hey,” he cooed, “C’mere,” he tucked her to his chest, kissed the top of her head like it was an everyday occurrence. Like it wasn’t the first time his lips touched her. “It’s okay,” he hummed. God, he was so warm. Is this what it was supposed to feel like? Was this how she was supposed to feel when someone cared about her and all the little things she neglected to speak into existence?

She sniffled, wiping at her face while Harry calmly soothed her. His hand rubbed up and down her back. The last time she remembered someone soothing her like this had to be when she was a child and her dad was trying to comfort her over a broken toy or missing her mum on a work trip.

“Sorry,” she sniveled. “I think I’m just really overwhelmed.”

“I’ll say,” he agreed.

She rolled her lips into her mouth and pulled away from him even though it was a hundred times colder than her bedroom ever could be outside the circle of his arms. “Sometimes I just need to cry and be dramatic,” she admitted and wiped her eyes.

Harry was looking at her like she was going to have a breakdown at any moment. He wanted to wrap her back up in his arms but part of him was a afraid he might not ever let her go. “I don’t think y’being dramatic, kitten,” his voice was still very soft. Like he was worried he’d set her off somehow. “Think y’might jus’ be a little too not dramatic, actually.”

She took a deep breath. “My house is fine, really. It’s not a big leak. It’s only when it rains,” as if to make matters worse it thundered loudly outside. She winced while Harry just stared at her.

“This ex of yours, was he handy at all?” He asked and moved to the table where piles were made, and he finally found something labeled Monday. He grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting the paper; sitting on the floor like he did on Tuesday. Like it was no big deal that he came out in the middle of a thunderstorm to help her on a day he didn’t work next door.

“No,” she shook her head. “He just hired people.”

But she left out telling him about only hiring when it was convenient for him. “Hmm.”

“I actually know a lot about fixing things up,” she admitted. “Not nearly to the degree that you do. I need a lot of YouTube videos and time I sincerely do not have to execute it, but I installed our dishwasher on my own. And I pulled up some carpet and put some flooring down in our dining room.

She swore Harry was smiling proudly at her. Like he had taught her or something. “S’very lovely, kitten. S’good t’know how t’do those kinds of things... but I wouldn’t have let y’lift a finger t’do it.” It was like he sucked all the air out of her body and for a moment she really felt frozen. Harry continued cutting paper and pretending like he hadn’t just rendered her lungs useless. “We still on for Sunday afternoon?” He asked.

She nodded. “You’re still going to come to the party on Wednesday even if it’s the worst date of your life?” She asked. “I will have a really hard time explaining it to the kids if you don’t.”

He chuckled. “M’certain it’ll be the best date of m’life, but yes. I’ll be there Wednesday,” he assured her.

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered and sat beside him.

Harry wasn’t dressed in his typical construction gear. Instead, he wore jeans, a pair of sneakers, and a cozy sweatshirt. He smiled at her. “Course, Bird.”

*

The thunder was loud. Practically, shaking the small frame of her house. Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling unable to see anything in the dark until the lightning illuminated her room. Her phone said it was only after one in the morning. Much too early or late to do anything but try and fall back asleep.

Sighing again, she got out of bed and headed to her bathroom before making a stop in the kitchen for a glass of water. As soon as she stepped in the kitchen, her foot was met with a puddle.

Her heart pounded. “No, no, no, fuck,” she hissed and smacked the light switch on the wall. She put a hand to her mouth as the leak was now a definitive hole in the middle of her ceiling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She hurried back to the bedroom grabbing her phone and dialing Louis as quickly as she could. As she listened to it ring longer than she wanted to (but couldn’t blame Louis for not answering so early in the morning), she grabbed pots and pans out of her cabinets catching as much rain as she could.

“’Lo?” he yawned. Exhausted, clearly. It was one in the morning. The poor thing probably didn’t want to get out of bed in the pouring rain, but she didn’t know what else to do... she didn’t have a choice.

“Louis, I,” she gasped. “I need help, please!”

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly. “El, baby,” he hummed off to the side of his phone. “Get your coat,” he mumbled.

“What’s happening?” She moaned.

“Shh,” he hushed. “What’s wrong, love?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

“My ceiling!”

“Ah fuck,” he grumbled. Louis immediately knew what the issue was. “I should have—”

“Louis, I don’t have time for I-Told-You-Sos. Hurry up!” She begged and watched as another chunk of her ceiling fell to the floor. It wasn’t a huge hole, but if she hadn’t gotten up it was going to cave in her ceiling for sure by morning.

“Alright, alright, we’re on the way.”

*

Harry was dreaming. The pretty kindergarten teacher was in his house, drinking tea, and relaxing. It was adorable. Her smile was so sweet. No evidence of sadness or exhaustion on her face. He wanted to die seeing her upset that afternoon. But there was only so much he could do.

But she wasn’t upset right then. His dream made her giggly, like when her students made her laugh. She was wearing a pretty pink dress, it brought out the warmth in her. It wasn’t short, of course, but she wore leggings beneath it and she looked so cozy. “Hi Miss Bee,” he chuckled approaching her. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhmm... come here,” she patted the sofa beside her. “I missed you.”

It was music to his ears.

“Missed you t—”

His phone nearly sent him into an early grave waking him from the dead of sleep. He slapped his hand out and smacked it off the nightstand. “Shit,” he whispered grabbing it. It was an unknown number and normally he’d ignore it, but he had never gotten a call in the middle of the night. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God,” Eleanor sighed. “Harry, I’m so sorry to bother you. Her ceiling. It’s got a hole in it and she’s freaking out and it’s raining so bad, and we have no idea what to do, can you help us?”

He knew he should have checked it out.

“Yeah, yeah, course, jus’ send me the address.”

“I already did,” Harry put the phone on speaker and checked the message while he rifled through his drawer for clothes to wear in the rain. He felt his heart skip a beat to know she was only a five-minute drive away.

“M’five minutes away once I get m’shoes on.”

“You’ll beat us there, thank you, so, so much.”

Harry called Niall immediately. “I was sleeping,” he groaned.

“M’sending you an address. Miss Bee’s got a roof situation.”

“Shit, in this weather?”

“I’ll be there in five. Bring anything y’can think of.”

*

The rain was not letting up. The thunder and lightning only added to the shitty night she was having. She ran from her house to the small shed in the back corner of her yard to find something useful. Louis would be a few minutes, and she really didn’t want to wait a second longer than she needed to.

With a small flashlight between her teeth, she found the ladder that would be large enough to get her on her roof. She awkwardly held it as she walked back toward the house, propping it against the side.

Her raincoat wasn’t doing anything. It was going to feel downright tropical in her room when she got back inside. Everything was so terrible right then, she just wanted to cry, and she couldn’t because there wasn’t even time to have a meltdown. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself entering the shed once more. She found a tarp. She hadn’t a clue how she would get it to stay down but it was something. It’s not like she had time to find a YouTube video on it either.

In addition to the tarp, she grabbed a hammer, tucked it into the waistband of her pants. Then she snagged a box of nails and put them in her coat pocket before she made her way back to her leaky house. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered.

She climbed the ladder, it was slippery and terrified her, but what choice did she have. She had a flashlight between her teeth and the tarp under her arm. This was a horrible idea, but it was one in the morning and nothing made more sense than this.

The thunder was so loud, and the only light came from a streetlamp just a little too far away from her house to be useful. She slowly climbed onto the roof and felt her heart hammering hard against her chest. She took a deep breath through her nose and climbed further onto the roof. It was slippery, wet, and cold. Her fingers felt frozen as she moved her way up toward where the leak was. She unfolded the tarp and placed it so it would flip over toward the front of her house and the rain would slide over the hole and nothing would get under it. It was a little relieving to have a plan, but it was very short-lived.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The sound of someone else shouting at her brought her practically to a stop; she dropped the flashlight and lost her footing. She grabbed at the tarp, the shingles, anything to stop her from sliding off her house and into the yard. “Shit!” She barely had time to scream while she clawed for something to get a purchase. Her roof wasn’t particularly tall (she wasn’t living in a mansion by any stretch), but she imagined a ten-foot fall in the rain would probably result in a broken bone or two. In her slide, the hammer dug into her hip, certainly it was going to leave a bruise. She was lucky the nails were in the box, or she suspected she’d have an ER trip this early morning as well as a roof to repair.

Fortunately, her hands snagged onto the gutter before she made her final descent to the ground. The metal clanging and moaning as it pulled from the house with her dead weight hanging onto it. It hurt her fingers, her left middle finger definitely felt like it was cut on some part of the metal lip she clung to. “Let go,” the voice ordered from behind her.

She gasped. Tried to turn and look at who was bossing her around in the middle of the night. “I—”

“Bird, let go of your fucking house, now.”

Her heart managed to flutter once it recognized Harry’s voice. Just his voice made her feel safe and she felt infinitely better about her situation. It was a painful realization because Harry didn’t need this. From here it was only a five to six foot drop and less likely to hurt her, but she was still exhausted, tired, and certain with her luck she’d land on a rock and break an ankle.

So, despite all instinct, she released the gutter with nothing else but hope she wouldn’t hurt herself upon her landing in her yard.

Instead, she fell into his arms. Harry caught her, cradling her briefly and absorbing the impact of her fall by bending slightly while catching her. Before she had a mere second to be in his arms and think it through, he placed her on her feet with ease.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He snapped. “Are you insane?” His anger didn’t match his gentle touch as he cupped her face. His hands then dropped to her arms and moved further south to her waist and hips as he scanned her for injury. It was still near pitch dark if it weren’t for the headlight he had on his forehead. The light scanned her like a laser as she gaped at his presence.  “Are you okay, bird?” His voice was softer this time.

“How... how did you...?” She stared at him in disbelief that he was really truly there.

“Eleanor called me,” he stated. “What were y’doing on a roof in the rain by yourself?” He asked, his voice turning harsh again. She had never heard him sound anything but kind and sweet. The anger was almost terrifying.

“I-I, my roof—”

“You scared me t’death,” he yanked her to him, her face pressing to his chest. She swore she could feel his heartbeat through his clothes, over the sound of the pouring rain and the thunder in the distance. “Jesus, bird,” he grumbled, squeezing her tight. “I should have looked at it this afternoon, m’so sorry,” he murmured. “So, so sorry,” he repeated quietly. “Niall’s almost here, we’re gonna fix it up. Jus’... go inside and stay warm, please,” he pleaded pulling away from her, keeping a hand on her face for a moment as he scanned her once more.

“But—”

“Jus’ go inside, bird. S’fine. I’ll take care of it.”

She blinked, rain water was streaming over her face as she tried to figure out what to do next. Wincing, she pulled the hammer from her waistband as it skimmed the sensitive bruise that was definitely forming as she stood there. Then she took the box of nails from her pocket. “Not sure if these are useful,” she offered quietly.

His eyes looked so sad, so displeased. She wanted to cry. “Resourceful,” he murmured.

She nodded silently. “I’m... I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Go inside, bird, please.”

As she turned away toward her door, Niall was suddenly there. A matching headlight to Harry’s also on his forehead. “Hey Miss Bee,” Niall smirked as if this was normal to meet up with her in her backyard at one in the morning. “Having fun?”

“Loads,” Harry deadpanned. She felt flushed as she didn’t answer Niall. He winked at her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Go inside, love. Please.”

She bit the inside of her lip and headed in. She dumped the filled pots and pans into her sink, and she grabbed towels from the linen closet. Everyone and everything was going to be soaked.

“Good morning, sunshine! Fancied a bath in the kitchen, did you?” Eleanor chirped cheerfully as she entered. Like it wasn’t one in the morning, and her house wasn’t falling apart. But her smile quickly morphed into a frown at the sight of her wet friend dripping, cold, and so completely defeated in the eyes. “Aw, sweetie,” she whispered.

A lone sob escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth, except she forgot about the cut on her finger. She winced at the slight pain and sting. “Goddammit!” She snapped and dropped her head to her other hand and cried.

Eleanor made her way to her, gently tugging her coat off her body. “It’s alright,” she promised. “You’re okay, babe,” she reminded her. “It’s just a little hole... Harry and Niall will take care of it,” she brushed her hand over her hair soothingly.

She sniffled. “Today was not a good day,” she whispered.

“Well, technically it’s tomorrow, and I imagine at one in the morning, it can only go up from here,” she said positively. She snorted and shook her head.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Eleanor smiled. Above them she could hear the muffled sounds of Niall and Harry working together to repair her roof in the rain. The thunder and lightning didn’t change pace. “You clean up your hand, I’ll take care of the kitchen,” she said softly. “Go change, clean up, and brush your hair. He may be in love with you, but you would kill me if he saw you with your wet, rainy bed head,” she teased.

She snorted again and even though she didn’t want to trouble Eleanor, she listened and headed to the bathroom.

*

Louis wasn’t as helpful as Niall and Harry, but he was able to hold an additional flashlight and hand items to them as needed. Once the tarp was in place (with an added piece of rubber over top of it that Niall had brought from home) Louis helped clean up their tools and materials. He brought the ladder back to her shed while their belongings went back to their cars. Once everything was cleaned up and they were confident her roof wouldn’t leak for the remainder of the night, Louis guided them inside the small house of his best friend.

“Thanks boys,” Eleanor smiled happily in the kitchen. She was by the sink drying off pots and pans that she clearly washed.

But Harry was scanning for the pretty kindergarten teacher, clearly. Eleanor glanced down the hall suspiciously and Harry followed her gaze. “You okay in there, babe? The guys are inside, now!”

“Just trying to get my band aid to stay,” she called back.

“Niall, can we get you some tea?” Louis asked while Harry moved toward the sound of her voice. He knocked quietly on the only closed door in the little hall assuming it must be her bathroom.

“Bird?”

There was a quiet sigh from inside. “Crap,” he heard her whisper. But then the door opened.

God, she was pretty. Even sad. Even a little banged up, wet, and tired, she was gorgeous, really. Harry was in awe of her.

“Can you—” she sighed heavily. The cut wasn’t just to her middle finger as she thought but across her index and ring fingers too. Harry gently pushed inside the bathroom, holding her shoulders and guiding her to on the closed toilet lid as he looked at the array of band aid wrappers that had fluttered to the floor. He pulled the head lamp off and shrugged out of his wet coat just like he had less than twelve hours ago in her classroom, he hung it on the back of the bathroom door hook where her towel usually hung.

Silently he bandaged her up, pausing only slightly when she winced in pain from the antibacterial spray he put on her cut. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Y’have nothing t’apologize for,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s alright, you were scared. I would have done the same thing. I was scared too.”

He completed the bandages on her hand. Carefully, he cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing on her cheek as he gently tilted her gaze up to meet him. “Don’t ever do something dangerous like that again,” his voice was very quiet, but none less serious.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you, so much. Really.”

“Course, bird. Told you. M’at your service,” he reminded her. She smiled shyly, and Harry was almost certain he didn’t imagine the way she leant into his palm that cupped her very pretty face. For a moment it wasn’t one in the morning, her roof wasn’t a mess, and Harry was only there because he wanted to be, not because he had to be.

*

“You can stay here,” she said to Louis and Eleanor as she walked into the kitchen. “It’s late.”

“Already pulled the sofa out and got sheets,” Eleanor said with a yawn. She walked away from the sink and made herself comfy on the sofa. Louis chuckled and headed after her.

“Good night, everyone. Thanks for helping Miss Kindergarten.”

“You guys are welcome to stay as well, I have a couple air mattresses,” she offered to Niall and Harry.

“In the morning, she’ll make muffins,” Louis called out quietly.

Niall yawned but shook his head. “M’good to head home, Miss Bee. Thank you though. If there’s a problem again, call Harry and we’ll come over again. We’re going to fix it tomorrow when the rain lets up, yeah?”

She nodded. There was no use arguing. At least not right now. “Thank you,” she sighed. “Text Harry when you get home,” she said sweetly as he exited, the door closing quietly.

Harry grinned while he sipped on a cup of warm tea. That was very sweet of her wanting to know about Niall’s safety. She turned back to Harry. “I can set up an air mattress. I’d rather stay in case something happens to the tarp,” he offered.

“Jesus, just sleep in her bed, you’re both grown adults,” Eleanor groaned.

Her face turned the color of the pants he liked most on her—the ones she wore the day they met. He smiled softly, shook his head as he sipped his tea again so he wouldn’t let on how much he liked that idea.

“El, shh,” Louis whispered. “That was an inside thought. Go to sleep,” he mumbled.

Harry couldn’t help but show his smile and he looked at her almost apologetically on Eleanor’s behalf. “Air mattress?”

“Babe, it’s so loud,” Eleanor whined.

“Shut. Up,” she hissed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offered with a chuckle.

“Absolutely not,” she whispered and grabbed his hand. She tugged him down the hall to her bedroom. She flicked the light on and Harry inspected the little room with awe. A closet opposite the wall of three windows with gray colored curtains with an intricate lace design. Her bed resided in the middle of the wall with a fluffy green comforter that looked warm and cozy. Beside it was a nightstand, filled with books, a water cup, and her phone. There was a plush gray carpet that extended beyond her bed frame and into most of the room taking up 80% of the floor.

Her dresser looked old, reminded him of her desk and shelving in her classroom. There was a mirror propped up behind it or on it, he couldn’t be sure. Pictures surrounded the frame of it and on the surface was a beautiful, almost antique jewelry box.

None of her furniture matched. He figured it was subject to her yard sale ways as well. “I like your room,” he said.

She sighed. “A work in progress.”

He smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He frowned instantly. “Bird,” he sighed and brought his hand to the side of her neck. He brushed his thumb on her cheek again. “Everything’s okay.”

“I’m just... not having a good day,” she whispered looking away from him. “I’m sorry. I feel so bad for bothering you this late and my room is freezing cold, and you should just go so you don’t get sick from the rain and this icebox,” but Harry couldn’t help but notice she didn’t move from his touch.

A sad smile graced his lips and eyes. He was so handsome it made her stomach do back flips. “Jus’ lay down, bird,” he said softly.

“Harry, it’s freezing—”

“Get in the bed, love,” he was a little firmer, but no less soft in his approach. He gently nudged her forward. Poor thing must have been exhausted because she willingly let him tuck her in, rubbing her arms gently for friction and warmth.

Turning back to the doorway, he clicked the light off bathing them in darkness. Silently he stripped out of his wet clothes. “M’jus’ gonna get between the sheet and the comforter,” he assured her. “No funny business, bird. Need a proper date,” he teased.

She snorted and turned on her side away from him. Maybe her room was cold. But it was very warm beside her in bed. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Of course,” he murmured toward her frame still faced away from him. He smiled at the shadow of her that he could only vaguely make out when the lightning peeped through the space in her curtains between windows. “Anything for you Miss Bird.”

*

When she woke up, she was sweating.

Harry was snuggled behind her, his arm draped across her body, the sheet the only barrier between her and him. He was still asleep, at least she was pretty sure. His breathing made it seem that way. He felt warm and good, even if she was sweating. “Mm,” he hummed and tightened his grip on her. She smiled softly to herself and let him hold her for a minute. It was perhaps too hot, too cozy, and definitely not what she should have done. But it was nice and safe. Harry made her feel incredibly safe.

After a few minutes of blissful resting, she carefully lifted his arm off her and snuck out of bed. He didn’t stir too much other than gripping her pillow and holding it close. She looked away before she climbed in beside him again. She tiptoed across the room to her dresser, pulling the bottom drawer open slowly so it didn’t make noise from getting stuck on the uneven swells of old wood. She found a pair of sweatpants that she bought at least two sizes too large that would fit Harry’s frame along with a sweatshirt she got back in college from a friend’s ex-boyfriend. She left the clothes on the bed beside her sleeping partner peacefully dreaming and drooling onto her pillow.

She grinned to herself and made her way to the door, stopping at his pile of wet clothes trying her best to avoid the parts of her old floor that creaked with her weight. She quickly opened and closed her door without letting it squeak or whine—so Harry could sleep in peace.

She turned to the washer and dryer in the small closet beside her bathroom, tossing his clothes inside the dryer. Next, she headed to the kitchen. Louis was sitting up on the sofa, Eleanor snuggled into his lap. He was scrolling on his phone and combing his fingers through her hair. She smiled fondly at her best friend and gave a silent wave.

“She’s awake, you can talk,” he said quietly.

“Mm, debatable,” El grumbled.

She smirked and headed outside barefoot. It wasn’t as cold as it was last night, and the sun was starting to appear. She stepped further back in the yard to get a whole picture view of her roof. Crossing her arms at her stomach she sighed. Louis joined her (wearing shoes, however) he faced the house with her and he draped an arm around her shoulders.

“Harry said you almost fell off the roof. You got up there yourself?”

“I knew you were on the way,” she mumbled. But her gutter looked a little misshapen from her fall. Something else that would need to be fixed in addition to her tarped roof. “I figured I’d get a head start.”

“If I found you knocked unconscious in your garden, I would have lost my mind,” Louis stated.

���It needed to be done—”

“Irrelevant,” he shook his head and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do that again.”

“Harry already gave me this lecture.”

“Good.”

She sighed. “I should just sell it and rent an apartment,” she mumbled. “I don’t have the time or energy to fix it up. It’ll be a loss, but—”

“You love this place,” Louis reminded her.

“I do, but at what cost? You were right, I should have fixed the leak when I first noticed it.”

“How did that taste in your mouth? Saying I’m right?” He smirked and gave her a squeeze.

“Like vinegar.... meanie,” she grumbled.

“This is your house. You can do whatever you want with it. If you want to sell it, you know I’ll help you. But you don’t have to. I’m sure there’s someone that would love to help you fix it up,” he grinned. As if on cue, Harry appeared in her backyard, rubbing his eye. “Good morning, Harry, how did you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” he murmured. He was wearing the outfit she selected for him, and she felt her heart skip. He followed her and Louis into the yard, the laces of his work boots untied. “No shoes?” He asked, glancing at her feet.

“I’m only going to be out here a second,” she assured him.

“She’s not really a shoe person,” Louis told him. “She’s a summer girl because of work,” he explained.

“I could see that,” he smirked and looked at her house. “Looks like the tarp held,” he put his hands into the pockets as he assessed the damage the same as her.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

“I’m going to get El a little more mobile so she can help you with the muffins,” Louis offered. “We can go for a coffee run too,” he pulled away from her with another kiss to the top of her head. “Harry, tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, please,” he nodded.

Harry stood beside her, their arms brushing as she looked her house over. “That was stupid of me,” she said quietly. “Going up there alone in the dark.”

“Not stupid. Y’were jus’ trying t’fix it.”

She sighed. “When will Niall be here?”

“Soon as he stops t’get me more clothes,” he smirked.

“I’m sorry. This is an awful way to spend a Saturday. I can find someone—”

“Bird, jus’ let me do it,” he chuckled. “M’begging you.”

“You’re sure, it’s not a bother?”

“Course not,” he promised.

“I don’t know how, but I’ll make it up to you.”

He grinned. “C’mon, let’s get you inside before y’lose a toe.”

*

The roof was repaired in a few hours. She could hear Niall and Harry laughing while she let her muffins bake. Eleanor and Louis helped her clean up a little more and eventually the pair came down from the roof. “All set, Miss Bee,” Niall grinned.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “Thank you so much, here let me—” She attempted to hand Niall money, but he put his hands up in front of him like she was trying to stab him with a knife.

“Absolutely not. It’s on the house.”

“Literally,” Louis chuckled.

“Boo...” El rolled her eyes.

She looked at Harry nervously. “Don’t even think ‘bout it, bird,” he warned.

Pouting, she put the money back in her purse and then held out the plate of muffins that had finished onto the counter. “Here,” she offered. “The blueberry white chocolate chip ones are the best.”

“Don’t be mean to my cranberry walnut,” Eleanor said protectively.

She smiled. “Chocolate chip is by far superior, my love,” Louis said knowingly, and they took their muffins to the sofa bed.

Niall snagged one of each, with an impish smile and followed her friends. Harry stood opposite her at the counter. “We still on for tomorrow?”

“You still want to see me? After this whole catastrophe of a week?”

He nodded, picking the baking cup off his muffin with a smile. “God, yeah.”

“You might be a little crazy.”

“M’definitely a little crazy ‘bout you, bird.”

“That will be seven days in a row of seeing me.”

“A perfect week, in m’opinion,” he ripped a piece of the top of the muffin off and popped it into his mouth. “Mm,” he sighed. “Blueberry is definitely m’favorite,” he smiled.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” She asked.

He grinned. “I thought y’might want t’stick to something simple. Jus’ lunch. We can walk around the park if it’s nice out,” he offered. “But s’also Sunday so m’sure y’want some time t’rest, so I won’t keep you out forever.” That sounded highly unfair. Part of her didn’t want Harry to leave and she felt so ridiculous about saying it. Or maybe it was because he was so warm in her freezing cold room. “Lunch for sure.”

“Is it a fancy place? I just want to know what I should wear.”

“Not particularly,” he shook his head. “You can wear whatever you want,” he promised. “M’sure you’ll look stunning.”

Her face warmed with the compliment wondering for the millionth time why Harry would want to put her kindergarten chaos in his life. “M’with Eleanor, cranberry walnut is the winner,” Niall said around a mouthful of his breakfast treat.

“Told you!”

“Fine by me, I don’t have to share,” Louis said with a shrug.

Harry chuckled, gave her a wink, and headed to join the little group in her living room. Like he wasn’t stealing her heart and soul at all.

--

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Kim Seokjin Fic Recs

‼️18+ minors DNI, if you choose to anyways, PLEASE be careful. try to heed our warnings, we have them for a reason‼️

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brothers best friend!seokjin, they’re hiding :(, FWB2L, angst angst angst, yoongi gets puNCHED, smut, readers brother is overprotective, lil fluff

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i don’t think u understand i love this seokjin. JK is a cutie, S2L, jinnie owns a bakery and is the master of puns, kinda angsty, fluff, they’re also IDIOTS. lil smut

cupids on holiday @persphonesorchid 17k

cupid!seokjin, fluff, angst :(, smut, E2L?? ily jin. but i HATE U. but ily.

all i don’t want for christmas is you @minisugakoobies 23.7k

coworkers AU!, E2L, crack, fluff, smut, jin has a big… ego.. y’all. Y/N pisses me the hell off, but they’re SO CUTE 😭

glazed and dazed @floralseokjin 30.3k

um. PORNSTAR SEOKJIN. thank you that’s all, jk, seokjin ☹️, obviously smut, but they’re fluffy n cute i promise.

the devil wears armani @floralseokjin 65k series

WHEW this one is a doozy, devil!jin, jimin is there too, very much smut smut smut, angsty, fluffy, seokjin has a soft spot.

like i said at the end of my last fic rec post, if any of you have recommendations for me, please send them through!! my inbox is OPEN and i am always looking for more things to read!!! 🫶🫶

[vaaaaaiolet]

Good thing your doctor's always on speed dial for your health scares, but can he help you out of this one?

gn / m, fluff, romance, hypochondriac reader, leon is your teledoc LMAO, denial of feelings / obliviousness, slightly ooc?? phone call transcript format in lowercase

word count: 1.2k // read on ao3

a/n: for @idyllcy + @hiya-itsamber :3

just a silly scenario i wrote in 2023 when those corny tiktok dual pov slideshows were a thing 😭 leon's dialogue is indented + in blue and nothing is proofread i fear

RINGING… [0:01]

[line connects.]

hi doc, I just wanted to call and tell you that I need to schedule an appointment tomorrow.

     that’s awfully soon, I just saw you last week. what’s wrong?

what’s wrong? more like what isn’t wrong. honestly, I think I’d rather just schedule the appointment and not waste more of your time. are you free at 4 tomorrow?

     my job is to ask you what’s wrong so I can fix it. cut out the middle man and tell me how you’ve been feeling. the poor receptionist needs a break anyway, flu season has her answering calls from her bathroom.

[nervous laughter.]

     are you in the bathroom?

…

     never mind that. do you have any new symptoms or have your old ones worsened?

this has to be against HIPAA or something, doc. I’m telling you, I’ll just call later.

[loud flushing sounds and tap water running.]

     I’m still waiting.

have it your way then.

     mhm.

I have so many symptoms, I don’t even know where to start. you know how I am about cleaning things and staying on top of my health. my chart last appointment was perfect!

     minus the minor cold you had, yes. has your cold not improved?

I’m not sure. the congestion and coughing’s all disappeared, but now I have really bad headaches. and hot flashes.

     headaches?

uh huh.

     what are they like?

they’re…weird. they start in my head, but they spread, like, everywhere.

     I see.

     can you tell me more about how they spread? is it one big headache or a bunch of little ones at a time?

they start in my temples and if I don’t take medicine for them fast enough, they move down to the bridge of my nose and into my cheeks. I swear I can feel these headaches in my chest.

and that’s when I get these hot flashes. like someone’s microwaving me on high, and I get dizzy, and out of breath, and-

     you get headaches in your chest?

in my chest! headaches aren’t supposed to do that right? it feels like my heart jumps. that’s not right, is it?

     [sounds of pen scratching on paper.]

but the curious thing is that I’ve had these symptoms before. they’re not new.

     huh? I thought they started right after your cold.

no no, it’s just that they go away when I have my appointments. I’ve been doing some research online and I think that right at the time you prescribe me my new medicine, they go away. it all lines up with the release time of the inhibi-

     you worry too much. I’m sure it’s not that; none of the medicine I’ve ever given you lines up with your symptoms.

oh.

     why didn’t you tell me this when you first started coming to our office? this is important information that needs to be added to your file.

but it really wasn’t that important-

     you don’t understand. I need your entire medical history to assign you the right medicine.

     I could have triggered some autoimmune disease, or, or, flared up more symptoms.

     god, I should have done the bare minimum and checked with your nurse. Florence, is that her name? I need to make some calls. I’ll call you right back.

hey doc? you’re starting to sound like me. don’t worry, I’m coming in for my appointment anyway tomorrow. you don’t have to get all military about it.

     you’re one of my first patients. I worry about you.

you do?

     it’s my job to worry about you. i quite like my job.

that felt nice to hear.

     it’s the truth.

the reason I didn’t tell you about it earlier is because I got a second opinion and I felt guilty about it. I felt like I was cheating on you, somehow.

     [laughter.]

     what part of your research gave you that idea? you don’t believe I can handle you seeing another healthcare professional?

it’s embarrassing! it wasn’t even a healthcare professional. it was my mom.

     your mom counts as a second opinion?

she’s licensed in all matters of life.

     I see.

…and the heart.

     that so?

she told me it was mmmfmmf [unintelligible].

     hm. I still need to hear about this incredibly important second opinion.

she told me I just had a silly crush. can you believe her?

     and she might have a point, you know. how did she come to that conclusion?

she totally dismissed my hot flashes and told me that it was normal. same with my headaches and what i’m definitely sure is a developing heart arrhythmia.

     that’s…interesting.

I get it, I thought the same thing you’re thinking right now. except she predicted a symptom I didn’t even have when I asked her.

     and what symptom would that be?

insomnia! I can’t even sleep anymore. I stay up all night in bed, thinking.

     and what do you think about?

to be honest, going back to the doctor’s office.

your office.

     my office?

yeah. whenever I go to your appointments, my symptoms go away. it would be stupid to bring up my mom’s theory during checkups, so I’ve never said anything.

     you’ve got to be kidding me.

     your master plan is to keep getting sick and showing up to my office for 20 minutes a month?

well, it sounds stupid when you say it!

     how long did you think this was going to last?

I don’t have a choice. it’s either this or nothing. 20 minutes with you taking my vitals is worth the aches and pains leading up to it because i feel so much better afterwards.

it just feels nice seeing you. i think it’s an environment trigger.

hey doc, you still there?

     tell you what, I think you’re going to have to get that second opinion.

why would I do that? didn’t I just explain to you why I can’t? you’re the only one that makes my mysterious disease go away, and besides, there’s no such thing as a second second opinion.

     listen to me. I can’t continue your current treatment anymore. it'd be breaking HIPAA to treat you like I need to because of the type of disease you have.

     and to be honest, I don’t think it has a cure yet.

are you serious? how much do I need to pay for treatment? what’s my prognosis?

[clattering of pens on desk and line breaks up briefly from movement.]

[quietly.] doc, am I going to live?

     [laughs.] you’ll live. I have no doubts about that.

well then, why can’t you treat me?

     I can treat you. it’s just that I can’t as your doctor.

you’re not making any sense.

     you’re still going to need to schedule that appointment for tomorrow, but it’ll have to be using a different phone number. call XXX-XXX-XXXX.

[furious pen scratching on paper.]

alright, and who am I asking for on the line?

     ask for Leon. and dress nice.

that’s required for the appointment?

     he has special conditions. it’s a quality of service thing.

…and you’ll be there with the doctor at the appointment?

     [light laughter.]

     I will.

okay, see you soon.

     take care.

[line disconnects.]

CALL ENDED WITH: DR. L. KENNEDY M.D. [14:45]

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[amongemeraldclouds]

Firewhiskey Confessions

After drinking to cope with your heartbreak, you find a reliable confidante to spill your guts to. Except, he is not who he seems.

Soft!Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warning: alcohol, fluff, no use of y/n

Author’s note: Just a silly idea, this is unserious. Official entry for @thatdammchickennugget's Hogmarch challenge, prompt 2.

✿ Masterlist | 810 words

I never drank. Obviously, anyone can do what they want with their kidneys. I just didn’t like the idea of slurring my words or tilting gravity for fun, and I preferred to keep my mind sharp.

And yet, my world had tilted anyway without alcohol to blame.

As for my sharp mind? Well, here at Mattheo’s birthday party, all that precious sharp mind has done is hack away at my heart. So screw it. I need a drink.

I grab a shot of firewhiskey as a tray passes by and down it in one gulp, wincing. Well, no one drinks alcohol for its taste. I shake it off and move to the nearest tray for another shot. 

Five shots in, I feel flushed and ready for gravity to tilt, a familiar occurrence at this point. I sneak off to another room when I see Mattheo greeting his guests, laughter pealing and glasses clinking. Everyone is having a great time. Yay! 

In the quiet of the receiving area, I wrap my arm across a coated gentleman for support. “Avoiding the party too, huh?”

When he doesn’t reply, I continue. “Well, don’t worry. I’m not judging you. You see I,” I say, pointing at myself for emphasis, “am avoiding Mattheo. Why did I come to his party only to avoid him, you ask? Well one might say, I don’t make very smart decisions.”

I blink, trying to catch my train of thought.

“You seem to be a very good listener,” I ponder, bringing my face closer to his shoulder since he’s too tall for me to reach his ear. “Can I tell you a secret? But ssshhhh you can’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”

“I’m in love with Mattheo Riddle and I screwed it all up. Last week, he kissed me during a game of spin the bottle and I just knew there was nothing friendly about the kiss. So what did I do? Confess my long harbored feelings for my best friend like an emotionally intelligent woman?”

“Pssh, nah,” I wave it off.

“Remember, I don’t make smart decisions. What I did was ignore him for a week and then act like nothing happened. By the time I stopped ignoring him, he already had a girlfriend so I’m avoiding him again. I’ll spare you the details, but she’s wonderful. Can’t even hate her if I tried. They’re going to make gorgeous pureblood babies and live happily ever after. I’m so happy for them, but why couldn’t it have been me?” I hiccup.

“Answer me,” I poke at his side.

Instead, I hear an amused voice behind me. “Why are you talking to a coat?”

“I’m not talking to a coat, you’re talking to a coat,” I turn and point at…oh, Mattheo.

“Darling, why are you drinking?” He says, moving towards me.

I blink. “Why do you think I’m talking to a coat?”

“Because you are,” he deadpans. 

Oh. I step back and take a good look at my companion. I sway and Mattheo catches me. “Why do you hang your coats on mannequins instead of racks like everyone else?”

“In case you didn’t notice, I live in a mansion. Not like everyone else either,” he explains patiently like he’s talking to a child.

“Come on, you’re drunk. Let’s take you to my room to rest,” he says guiding me.

I focus my attention on staying upright. When we reach his room, he helps me lay down his bed and hands me a glass of water to help me sober up.

“How much of that did you hear?” I ask when my mind clears up a little.

“Do you want the truth or do you want to save yourself from embarrassment?” He asks.

I groan and bury my head in my hands.

He places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Well if you must know, I don’t have very friendly feelings towards you either, it’s more than that. But when you started ignoring me, I thought you didn’t like me.”

I look at him then and tilt my head, confused.

“Darling, if you stopped avoiding me, I would have very easily told you that I’m only fake dating to help save a friend from a toxic ex-boyfriend,” he explains.

“Wait,” I feel the gears in my head spinning. It’s rusty, but we’re getting there. “So you don’t have a girlfriend and you’re in love with me too?”

“In short, yes,” he says gently.

“Huh,” I grin. “That worked out well, I should drink more.”

“Absolutely not,” Mattheo protests. And then, “really? That’s your takeaway?” He shakes his head, covering me with the blanket. 

I close my eyes with a satisfied smile and sink into the soft, cozy sheets. As I drift off to sleep, I distantly hear Mattheo say, “get rest, we’ll talk more tomorrow,” and faintly feel him kiss my forehead.

[satnin-darling]

Circles. (m) | ONE-SHOT | PARK JIMIN, JEON JUNGKOOK, 6.3k

Pairing(s): Reader x Jimin, Reader x Jungkook, Jungkook x Reader x Jimin

Summary: Newly discharged from the mandatory military service, Jimin and Jungkook find their way back home to you.

Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language, smut (fem-reader; fingering, anal sex; multiple orgasms, squirting, hand job, oral (f-receiving); pussy slapping; penetrative sex; threesome; wet and messy sex, mhm); fluff (6k words about missing each other sounds about right); slight hurt/comfort; conversation about enlistment, body image; idol!AU - established relationship (Hotel and Late throuple are back!)

======

Hello!

Hope you're enjoying summer wherever you are and bask in the fact that BTS are back! Out of the WIPS I shared, this was the one furthest along and easiest for me to finish, so I hope you enjoy it c:

======

-

They arrived just before 11am, murmuring apologies about being held up at the company building due to preliminary meetings about how the next week is going to pan out. You figured that they still feel alien despite having more than 10 years of working in the industry under their belt. It wasn’t lunch - which was their proposed time - but they were all over you in an instant, kissing everywhere until you fell onto each other in a heap by the foyer.

It’s a silly reunion, one that you’d anticipated but nevertheless felt unprepared for.

It’s evening now and Jimin’s home is cool and quiet. The curtains are drawn together, barely any light filtering through. You and Jungkook lie in bed together, listening to Jimin’s melodic humming from afar.

“How does it feel?” You ask.

His hands find your skin underneath your shirt. They’re restless, hungry.

“Hm,” he murmurs, his lips skating along your spine. You shiver at the sudden exposed skin. He bites the skin on your thigh. “Surreal.”

You roll your eyes, but your face heats from the attention.

Jimin emerges from the softly lit alcove, his hair still wet. He stares at you both, his plump cheeks are red from the shower.

“I’ve got to dry my hair,” he mutters, although you feel his eyes on you both.

“There’s not much hair to dry anyway, hyung.”

You laugh as Jungkook kisses you, these breathless giggles escaping your lips as he peppers ravenous pecks along your neck. You’re giddy because you don’t have to wait for them to come home. No more transitory messages or time fraught with the notion that they’ll be heading back to a harsher reality.

They’re finally home.

You notice Jimin stealing a quick glance at himself in the mirror. The swift act makes you worry. You remember how he didn’t eat much of what Jungkook cooked for lunch. You understand that it’s part of the job, that their body is part of the whole, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“You look good Min,” you comment, making room as Jungkook gets comfortable behind you.

Jimin smiles, “ah, I mean, I was nearly ten kilos heavier months before. Remember?”

It’s hard to hear him being so critical. Jungkook is the same, just less frequently. They rest on a tight balance where the margins for what qualifies a ‘good’ are narrow. It’s been long enough for them to differentiate how long they should spend time on something that is futile but a year and a half away from the camera’s can make anyone nervous.

What if I went back to one meal a day, like Hobi-hyung, was what Jungkook said in passing. You didn’t know what to say then, afraid to convey the wrong thing.

Jungkook decided to drop it, used to assessing himself like clockwork. You finished what’s on your plate and cleared the table. Nothing more.

“Yes but you’re doing well to get back to where you’re comfortable.”

Jimin kisses your cheek, “I think you want us like this.”

Your face warms from his remark. “I want you both to be happy.”

Jungkook’s laugh spreads on the nape of your neck, “hyung’s muscles must be what’s making you say these things.”

“Of course not!” You stutter, craning your neck back to shoot Jungkook a look. Jimin reaches over to pinch him lightly.

“Hey, I had an eight-pack before you,” Jimin teases. “You’re always copying me anyway.”

“Yeah, next thing you’re gonna say is that you were born in Busan first, how can I compete with that?”

You scrunch your nose at their easy dynamic. It never gets too serious which is also how they take care of you. They always said that they’d be fine since they enlisted together while you were the one holding the fort at home. Strange to think about those conversations now that it’s over.

“I didn’t realise how exhausted I am,” Jungkook says in between a yawn. “All I did was do one live and cook for three.”

“I totally blanked out in front of the reporters,” Jimin adds. He nuzzles his face against your neck as if breathing you in.

“You both did well, everything made sense,” you reply. “Especially in front of those cameras.”

Then, sheepishly, Jungkook presses his face between your shoulder blades. “Did I look okay?”

You wind your arm to brush the shorter parts of his hair behind his ear, “more than.”

Jimin’s expression lightens, “aw, Jeonggukkie.”

“Stop it,” Jungkook says, defeated. You let yourself laugh because somehow, despite being stuck in a more muscular body that’s inked and intimidating, Jungkook is still the same. Jimin leans his head towards you and traces the curve of your ear with the curl of his knuckle.

“I can’t believe that we don’t have to go back.”

“Good. My dermatologist is so sick of me giving excuses about being under the sun,” Jungkook sighs.

And in between another yawn, you sneak a laugh in time with Jimin’s bright giggles.

-

The kitchen is sparse in shades of black and white.

Jungkook is behind the stove again preparing perilla oil makguksu. He’s made the dish so many times he eyeballs all the measurements. Jimin is still asleep, nestled in the dark with his phone in his hand. You see the fine scars on Jungkook’s forearm, noting how they’re positioned where the rim of a giant cauldron would be.

“I didn’t hurt,” he comments, noting your gaze. “What hurt more is when Jimin hyung volunteered once and never came back.”

You snort, “I bet he’ll say something different.”

“I keep thinking there will be a bug or two flying over my head.”

You smile, “nothing now.”

The corner of his lip tugs up, the two rings are back and they glint under the overhead lights. He’s shy all of the sudden and you knew that he’s having some thoughts on adjusting back again. Back to his job, his life. But you sense that he needs some time to parse through it and you’ll be here when he’s ready to talk about it.

You watch as he squeezes the bottle of Buldak onto a wooden spoon. You caution him about your slight intolerance and he looks at you fondly.

“We won’t use all of it.”

You huff, “I hate crying onto my food.”

“Hey, I don’t make it too spicy!”

“Yes you do,” you protest, “there was one time when I couldn’t feel my tongue.”

He bites his lip out of remorse, “ah yeah, I remember. I’m sorry.”

He leans forward to kiss you and you forgive him easily. He backs you up on the counter until it digs onto your lower back, but then he hoists you up as if you weigh like nothing. You gasp into his mouth as his hands, now free of any utensil, roam along your skin. He feels so good against you, solid and insistent, like he can’t get enough. It’s not even midday yet and you had had three orgasms even before you reached the kitchen. It might have been an exaggeration to say that you were making up for lost time but in a way, you were. Things were heightened simply because they didn’t have to return to base.

That much was enough to celebrate.

“Jungkook,” you moan, grasping around his shoulders.

Since when did he get so broad?

“Hn?”

“What about lunch?”

He grins, licking into your mouth. “What about it?”

“Aren’t you hungry,” you say, tucking your face into your shoulder as he kisses down your neck.

“Mhm,” he murmurs, nipping your exposed skin only to soothe it with tender licks. Your toes curl at the sensation. His hands cup your ass, fingers kneading as he pleases. You become conscious of how your moans seem to echo in the space. He kisses you again, insistent and just as desperate.

“Bedroom?” He whispers, aware of how you’re grinding against his cock.

“Bedroom.”

-

As soon as you enter, Jimin emerges from the adjoining bathroom, his short hair askew and his face is flushed from being washed. When you try and wrap your arms around Jungkook's shoulders he circles your waist and makes you turn.

“What -”

“Back against me,” he says.

The authority in his voice causes you to comply with instinct. Your heart pounds as you settle on the bed doing as he says. Jimin doesn’t move yet, watching carefully. Against Jungkook’s chest like this, he splays your legs open, then, hooking his thumbs into your underwear he removes it with practiced ease. He bares you to Jimin and you shiver at the sudden display.

Jimin kneels wordlessly in front of you as Jungkook hands smooth down the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place.

It’s not an unfamiliar arrangement: the way you’re mostly bare while they’re mostly clothed. The way your heart is beating so loudly you can hear it, nor the way Jimin just stares at your exposed pussy, so wet as it slicks on your skin.

It’s how they’re so familiar with you and your wants that they always know what to do.

“Good?” Jungkook says right by your ear. His voice is quiet and tender, still checking if you’re okay and you’re comfortable.

“Y-yeah.”

Jimin looks up, “keep your legs open.”

You nod, transfixed.

As ridiculous as it might seem, it gives you time to admire Jimin. His smooth skin, the way his muscles are filled out. His cheeks remain a warm pink, his lips are plump and shiny. You see the rise and fall of his chest, the way it mirrors yours. He leans and places a soft kiss on your clit before licking down, dipping his tongue in your core. You whimper, your body twitching beneath. You tilt your hips, silently seeking more.

“You’re so pretty here,” Jimin murmurs, his breath fanning over your soaked cunt. “So wet.”

When he brushes his thumb along your folds and parts them in a way that makes you shy. You want to look away, to look anywhere but when you stare down you can see what Jimin sees. Your clit juts out, needy and flushed, your parted center glistening with arousal. The small quirk of a smile on Jimin’s lips shows how he’s enjoying this the most.

“Jealous, Jeongguk-ah?”

Jungkook huffs, “from where I’m at isn’t bad.”

It would have been arrogant if not for the strain in Jungkook’s voice. He’s hard and you feel him at your lower back, but he’s still and keeps you wide and open.

“Kissing Jungkook got you this wet? Seems that we should be blamed for not taking care of you enough.”

Your face is so warm from the light accusation. You want to make an excuse, you want things to move on because it has been a long time since you’ve been like this for them. The breaks they had in between warranted visits but they were too exhausted knowing that they had to return to base. It was alright to rest with them, to give them the space to relax and maintain their hobbies. Sometimes, you just lay down with them, sandwiched between.

But now, it’s overwhelming.

It’s as if they have so much energy and they have been more… forward. Now, they always couldn’t keep their hands off of you, walking around their massive apartments as if there wasn’t enough space. They somehow always managed to graze their touch lightly or give you a quick peck on the cheek. Something to signal their presence. You’re cocooned behind closed doors, you even smell like each other these days.

“No, I don’t think that,” you mumble, squirming.

Jungkook breathes out like it’s a chuckle. It flutters your hair, it sticks on your skin, this closeness.

Jimin lowers his mouth and you melt. You remember that this is what pleasure is: something to melt into, something to slip inside without caution. It teases and tracks you down, makes you all inseparable from each other, even with the distance and the time apart. The realisation sparks down your spine, making you aware of Jungkook’s arousal just as Jimin laps at your clit.

You’re wet and your toes curl, your breaths are shallow, they puff out and turn into moans when Jimin makes these tugging sucks on your clit, an even pressure, yielding and devoted. Jungkook’s fingers inch lower and you feel him press them against your flesh, parting you even more. You lean your head back, surrendering. Jimin circles your clit with his thumb and you tense, your lips letting out a quiet moan.

Jungkook hums low and then brings his hand down on your pussy. You gasp, legs stiffening and momentarily drawing together.

He carries on as Jimin leans back, his eyes glassy as you try and catch your breath. The stings fade into a slow, roiling pleasure. Then, as Jungkook continues to slap your pussy, it becomes this bright, shocking sensation that opens you up and makes you more sensitive. You get wetter, it makes a splattering sound that makes you want to hide your face. It’s messy and drips down, you bite your lip.

When Jungkook cups your pussy, letting the heat get trapped, it’s the fifth hit and you moan, twisting your body over his lap.

“P-please,” you beg, the heat blazing on your body and Jimin leans down, his eyes dark and focused. He doesn’t make you wait. He licks firmly, going with these broad strokes over your swollen folds. He drags his tongue as if it’s a balm to soothe your skin and it makes you dizzy, you tilt your hips, rubbing yourself against him, meeting him halfway.

And when his lips close over your clit, the tip of his tongue stroking and stroking, a soft cry falls from your lips. Jungkook kisses your temple, his hold is firm.

“Be good,” he rasps, and you see Jimin’s red lips, glistening because of you.

Jimin sucks your clit and it’s fast and messy and you’re so close. Jungkook’s fingers dig into the muscle of your thighs. Your head drops back onto Jungkook’s shoulder. It just doesn’t build quickly, you can feel this wave rising and it squeezes your gut and your breath hitches, turning into whines. Your body just feels and wants to ride the movement of Jimin’s tongue.

You pant and plea, Jungkook is kissing your cheek tenderly. He whispers in your ear, “come.”

And your orgasm hits you in seconds, you shudder, your stomach quivers as you gasp out these panting breaths. Your fingers scrabble against Jimin’s shoulders as he laps you up, not caring about the sting of your nails. He lets you ride it out on his tongue and the sensation floods you with this warmth, this sweet release and you moan as you twist in Jungkook’s arms. He doesn’t stop, not until you beg, you know that much. Your muscles keep fluttering, your pussy squeezing and you get wetter and you’re gushing.

“J-jimin, please, ahn, wait -”

He gives you one last lick, a teasing stripe before pulling back.

His chin is soaked and you almost want to apologise.

He surges forward and you taste yourself on him and Jungkook groans at the proximity.

Coming down to your senses, you start to shift. When they realise what you were trying to do, they laugh.

“Don’t worry about us,” Jimin says, kissing you lightly.

You can’t help but eye the tenting in their sweats. Jimin follows your gaze, he ignores your defiance and disappears into the bathroom.

“You did so well for us,” Jungkook soothes, rubbing the skin on your outer thigh. And when they try to get you to settle and clean you up, you pout.

“I can’t be the only one receiving,” you protest, defiant as Jungkook fetches a damp towel from Jimin and presses it over your throbbing core.

“We have time,” he mutters, gliding his hand under your top to cup your breast.

Later, you’d be prioritised again, this time grinding your bare pussy on Jungkook’s thigh while Jimin pinches your nipples. You come like that, riding out the sparking heat of orgasm, always between them, always cared for.

-

In the middle of the night, half the lights in Jimin’s apartment are turned down low. Your rhythms are slowly adjusting to each other. It means that your day is often most people’s night. You all preferred it that way, it makes the hours longer and gives you more time to savour each other.

It dawns on you, despite the days spent together that both were heftier as their muscles gained some bulk, unlike the slimmer physique’s their careers demanded of them. It’s still a pleasant surprise when they’re bare even though you've been seeing them when they take leave. You weren’t the only one sharing their schedule but now, with their reunion looming, you’re just as happy to have these precious days before the mayhem begins.

Jungkook’s hands frame your waist, the ink on his arm is vibrant and a new design continues onto his right pec. You all spoke about it one night, slightly tipsy keen for the night not to end. Maybe this is what it means to miss being around each other.

You traced the flecks of colour, like wild tendrils curling on his skin. You and Jimin admired him ceaselessly, commenting on how it’s so him. Jimin contemplated an additional piece but decided on something more delicate, the placement is something to be talked about. Another thing to look forward to.

Jungkook draws his fingers out of your puckered hole and you hiss at the absence. He gives your ass a pat, “okay?”

Your hands rest on his chest, your nails digging slightly. He asks to check in though his brows pinch at the fact that you’re clenching around him. Jimin is snug behind you, his fingers probing your hole now. He managed two and widened them before slipping them out.

“I can take it.”

Behind, Jimin’s amused chuckle breaks the tension. “It’s okay, we can try again another time.”

“N-no,” you say, craning your head back. “I want to try.”

This is one of those things that you’ve been warming up to. Still, it needed preparation and a slow descent. You hold Jungkook’s forearm, jutting your hips out to make it easier for Jimin. He’s on his back and his face is so red that you can’t help but find him cute. You feel Jimin’s cock rest on your lower back, heavy and wanting.

He kisses your spine and you feel drops of lube on your skin. It’s strange to feel this cool, jelly-like gloss. You sneak a look and you see Jimin fist his cock, coating it thoroughly. You were stubborn at first, saying that you’d be wet enough for both but they cautioned you. You never really needed lube much because you often got so aroused, it would be wet and messy in no time.

It’s not about that, we don’t want you to get hurt, we want you to enjoy it too, Jimin warned.

You should have reminded them to lay out a towel because it’s dripping now, and Jimin’s hands are slippery. You hum at the touch, this sticky-wet sensation mixing with your own slick arousal. Jimin spread your cheek, his hand on your ass is firm yet exploratory. He nestles his cock between your cheeks, dragging his hips to and fro, getting himself wet.

“Jimin,” you whine, all pent up.

“I want to make sure you’re relaxed,” he parries.

You palm Jungkook instead and he throws his head back. You’re plenty relaxed but they haven’t come once and the strain in his neck might be a tell of his frustration. Jimin pushes the head of his cock in and your hold on Jungkook stutters to a halt. The muscle gives and accepts Jimin and you hold your breath. Jimin repeats this, going deeper each time and the lube drips down the inside of your thighs.

Jungkook sighs as you gain some confidence, twisting your wrist, letting him fuck your hand.

“W-wait,” he protests and you stop. His brows are furrowed and his breathing is shallow.

“You want me to stop?”

“I-I’ll come too soon,” he says through gritted teeth. “And I want to come inside you.”

The confession heats up your body. You think up a retort but instead give a short cry as Jimin pushes his cock in halfway. The stretch burns for a second before your body accommodates him. Your body drops down in submission, forehead on Jungkook's shoulder. He swipes his hand up and cups the nape of your neck.

“Okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathe, shoulder blades tense. “Min?”

Jimin, on the other hand, is tense. He’s stiffened up behind you and isn’t moving at all. You glance back and his eyes are glassy, focused on where you’re both connected.

“Fuck, I can’t believe it,” he says. You encourage him by swaying your hips.

“Min, please.”

He snaps out of it and pulls out only to shove his cock back in. This time to the hilt. You tremble from the force until he builds up the pace, slamming back in and switching up to mid-length strokes. Then short, shallow fucks, almost humping you.

You gasp at the change in rhythm, you moan against Jungkook’s mouth as he kisses you desperately. Somewhere in that, you know he wants in on it too.

Sometimes, you’re clenching too tightly to let Jimin in fully but his moans don't signal any discomfort or protest. He’s not fucking you hard enough to see stars but he is going at a pace that makes you lift your feet off the bed, position unsteady and relying on Jungkook to balance you. You slide your knees closer, as much as it can be allowed. You feel Jimin’s arm strap you in the middle and drag you up and away from Jungkook. You gasp at the new angle, this pleasure morphing into something intense. Jimin goes harder this time, slapping up his hips and you hear his guttural groans, feel him getting wilder. It doesn’t hurt now. The burn is glazed over by the pleasure. You watch Jungkook watching you.

It’s surreal.

Jimin hugs you to his chest and slides his hand down. His fingers find your clit and you feel yourself gushing. You realise you’re wet because Jimin is fucking your ass.

“Fuck, the both of you look so hot,” Jungkook groans. He’s fucking his hand, his thick cock slicking up the web of his fingers. Your muscles tense, twisting in Jimin’s hold as he strums your clit.

“G-gonna,” you gasp, nails digging into Jimin’s forearm. He grabs your breast and pinches your nipple and you unravel suddenly, body tensing up and clenching around Jimin in this unforgiving grip. It’s a rhythmic spasm that gets you both, Jimin’s teeth baring themselves on the jut of your neck and shoulder and he growls into his release. Jungkook moans as he raises himself up, rests the head of his cock in the wet gape of your cunt, his hand squeezing his shaft. The squelching wet noises coupled with the constant friction against your pussy makes you moan loudly as his hand pumps up and down. You rub at your clit as he comes and your breath topples out of you as you’re propped up between them, delirious and shaking from the overwhelming sensations.

Jungkook rasps a strangle groan when he comes, adding to the mess of lube and slick. Your legs almost give out if not for Jimin’s strong hold against your body. As Jungkook settles back onto the bed, Jimin lets go and you follow him down. You all lie down, listening to the thud of your hearts. You kiss Jimin wetly, hands grasping his arm as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. “Felt good.”

Sensing Jungkook’s sulk, you part your legs just as his fingers find your dripping pussy. He slides two inside and groans at the hot heat which spasms around him. Your body radiates heat and a fine sheen of sweat makes your skin shine. You cup Jungkook’s cheek and shower him with kisses, equal in your affection.

You wonder how long it’ll be like this, stuck in a pleasure-loop. Endless and enchanting.

Jungkook rubs his nose against yours. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

-

Jimin gently pushes your knees out, your thighs spread and the cool air brushes your pussy. Jungkook’s hands support the back of your knees. It’s midnight somewhere but it’s in the early hours of the morning in Seoul. You haven’t left the bed apart from to drink water or have some food.

Jungkook sighs at the way you spasm around him. Three orgasms in, you’re floating.

This approach might have been a better solution rather than being on all fours. Besides, Jimin’s eyes shine with something playful.

“You ready for me, hm?”

You muster some sort of defense, but all that comes out is “yeah, please.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow as he smiles, obviously amused by you. He takes his fingers out and thumbs your perineum. You shiver.

“So good, taking Jeonggukie and me.”

“Y-you’re not inside yet,” you pout, legs instinctively closing when he hovers his cock on your slit. He tuts and angles the head to gather your slick, coating his shaft in a lewd display of taking his time. He taps your clit to finish and you kick your leg up. Jungkook soothes you by rubbing the backs of your thighs.

You roll your hips up, writhing in their hold.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, getting carried away. Jimin gropes at your waits, leaning down and close. He hesitates.

“I won’t move,” Jungkook adds, “we have to be careful and avoid tearing.”

That takes you out of the headspace for a minute.

“Tearing?”

“Small chance,” Jimin says.

You drop your head against Jungkook’s chest, “I won’t.”

Jimin kisses your forehead, distracting you momentarily as he glides in. The sound you make sounds like you’re choking and it cuts through the air in the room.

Immediately you hear -

“Are you okay?” From Jungkook and then a “shall I pull out?” From Jimin.

You clamp around them both and it seems that what threat was on the horizon comes and swoopes down. You clutch at Jimin’s wrist and Jungkook’s thighs tense from the effort of not moving at all. He places a shaking hand on Jungkook’s hip for the minute, grinding his cock inside you.

“Fuck,” you sob. You underestimated just being between them like this has worked you up so when Jimin finally finds a rhythm and makes enough space for Jungkook to move, you come and a hard stream of squirt pushes Jimin out.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m -”

Jimin crashes his lips against yours, tongue sliding and lapping you up. Jungkook sounds like he’s going through it and it almost makes you laugh if not for the shock of the fact that they made you squirt just by being inside at the same time. Your back arches and it presses Jungkook deeper inside you, seated in a way that melts your insides and you throw your hands behind your head, trying in vain to kiss him too.

Distracted for the moment, you don’t realise that Jimin’s fingers enter you and you shudder at the sudden pressure. It’s like being stuffed again which means that you’re not allowed to come down from your last orgasm. Jimin’s fingers curl like he’s teasing something out of you, this upward pressure inside you and you let out a breathy grunt, unh, ah, ahn -

“Jimin, wait, it feels like I have to -”

His arm muscles are tense as he ramps it up. The look he gives you is so piercing that you’re struck with it. Jungkook groans behind you as he thrusts his hips upwards.

“You’re so wet,” Jimin groans, “can you hear it?”

You huff out a panting breath, eyes fluttering shut. He’s right. It’s audible and obscene. Loud enough to send a wash of heat on your abdomen. Everything is so sticky and slick and you reel from their attention.

“Let go,” Jimin breathes out, kissing your temple. He strokes fast inside and you pulse from your cunt. They aren’t even touching your clit and it’s as if you’re a live wire. You claw at Jungkook’s arm, hissing as he takes and takes. You wonder how it’s possible to be like this without it being so much. Jimin lets the feeling build, so expert in your body, in what makes you feel good.

Jungkook gasps from behind, “let go.”

Your head drops back and your body tenses, Jimin keeps stroking and you do let go, pushing out a clear stream and soaking his arm.

“Ah -” you gasp, shocked at the sight, trying to shut your legs but Jungkook is thrusting upwards while Jimin doesn’t stop fucking into your open pussy making you squirt again, a small splash that becomes a crude spray as Jungkook’s hips stutter to a halt. His groan vibrates against your skin as he comes inside you, hips shoving up as if he’s digging deeper. It’s so warm and wet that it startles you that you’re plugged up like this. And Jimin, just as affected, slips his fingers out of you only to rub your clit and you moan loudly, turning your head to the side. Jungkook nudges his nose in your hair, his breath fanning over your cheek. Exhausted and sated.

“C-can’t,” you gasp, as Jimin coaxes more warm splashes, until you hear your own hoarse voice. “Please.”

Jimin stops and the flat of his fingers rests on your soaked cunt. You blink, feeling some tears gather in your eyes. Overwhelmed is an understatement. You meet Jimin’s gaze and look down at his strained cock, you reach for him and he leans into your touch. It doesn't take much to make him come and when he does, he shudders under your touch, kissing you to muffle his groans.

You smile into the kiss and moan in time as Jungkook slips out of you.

When things settle, you feel so hot all over and messy below the waist. It’s as if you can still feel them inside, you turn your head against the pillow and moan softly, tilting your hips and feeling their come trickling down.

They’re out of breath when they ask if you want more and you seriously consider it.

Your pussy throbs and you’re still mindless but with an urge to come again but instead, you turn over and lift your hips up every so slightly. You don’t see what’s happening behind but their panicked noises behind you causes you to peer over your shoulder.

“What does it look like?” You ask, genuine in your curiosity. Something thick and wet leaks from you, down the swollen folds of your pussy, onto the sheets. You wait until you meet their eyes and blink as if coming across as innocent.

Jungkook shakes his head and Jimin laughs. They dive down with roaming fingers, like they can’t get enough.

-

“Do you think he’s really dead?”

You shrug, “I mean, he did disintegrate and gave his soul to Rumi, I think that’s pretty final.”

Jimin chuckles, the short strands of his hair tickling your chin. “C’mon, there must be a sequel in the works.”

Jungkook is moving animatedly, phone in hand. A tribute to ‘Soda Pop’ in his own world. You can’t help but grin; he’s shirtless in loose sweats and helplessly handsome. The muscles on his back shift, they become more pronounced in the low light, tempting you further especially with the new ink taking over his scapula area.

“It’s not like that,” Jimin instructs, getting up (but not before kissing your temple) and standing in front of Jungkook. Jimin squints at Jungkook’s phone, some tiktok they found. The song loops and the small figures are caught in an endless cycle of catchy pop. They start off where the chorus is and Jimin gets to the right of Jungkook.

“Like this,” Jimin says, lifting his right shoulder and then his left. You just know Jungkook’s pouting even though you’re only seeing the back of his head.

“I know that part,” Jungkook complains, but follows Jimin nonetheless. You watch them work out the positioning then fine tune the movements.

After a while, you decide to get up and join them.

“How about this?” You volunteer, getting over your embarrassment of having two-left feet. Jimin makes space for you, giggling already.

“What? I’m trying!”

Jungkook joins in the laughter, although it’s not with any malice. “Okay, here, it’s like you’re pumping the air, okay, good.”

You manage the transition smoothly, albeit slower. Jimin pitches in and helps you with the hand movements.

“So many hand movements,” you say, twisting your wrist and opening your palm.

Jungkook nods, “okay! You want to be at the center?”

You raise your eyebrows, “you’re giving me Jinu?”

Jimin is already laughing, “c’mon, Jeongguk-ah, we know you want to.”

Jungkook’s ears turn three shades red, “I mean, I don’t mind…”

You realise that you craved moments like these with them. That it’s been a really long time since you last saw them relax and participate in something that had little to no stakes. The movie was released a couple of days after their enlistment period ended and the poster caught your eye. It captured a lot of the things that made them laugh and point to scenes that they related to.

Once their mini-practice session finished, you propped your phone up on the console and filmed a bit. Harmless but sweet and only for your eyes.

In the end, they kissed your cheek and gave you the center position.

Your heart was so full, it could burst.

Evening descends on the city once more and the panoramic views sweep along the length of the apartment with the curtain not being in the way. It’s so ordinary that the memory burns. Hanging out and watching films, eating less but frequently. Waking up whenever and wearing whatever. It’s easy like this.

Jimin turns up the volume while Jungkook appears with a bluetooth mic. He squints at the buttons complaining about his eyesight. When he looks up, he looks at you.

“What song?”

You grin and join them.

-

The HYBE building glimmers under the summer sun. You look up while shielding your eyes from the glare.

There were cranes framing either side. Noisy construction mingled with the everyday traffic. This repetitive machinised noise, almost drilling into your head. It grew louder and louder until -

“Aish, Jeonggukk-ah,” Jimin groans, scrubbing his face. You blink up at the source of noise, while, up until you woke up, were nearby drills at the foot of their company building.

Jungkook’s mouth is half open as he snores loudly.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing and reach to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. He stirs but doesn’t wake. Jimin flicks Jungkook’s forehead, clicking his tongue. Jungkook doesn’t open his eyes, content in his slumber.

“I wasn’t kidding when I told you that I dreamt of construction sites for two weeks straight because of his snoring.”

“You guys must’ve had a hard time there.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything but his quiet is a tell.

Jungkook nuzzles against your palm as you card your fingers through his hair. He’s warm and calm. It took a couple of days for either of them to bridge the gap between the dissonance they experienced. Of being back and resuming their lives. It’s a different kind of pause. The kind that’s played out in harsh weather and sparse accommodation rather than the walls of their home.

“We had something to look forward to though,” Jimin finally says.

He leans and kisses you, his body is warm from sleep and you feel his muscles shift under your touch. He’s so cute these days, his face is plumper and he really looks well rested. Jungkook has always been soft around the edges but he carries himself with an assuredness that you’ve never experienced before.

“You know, each time I was stationed with the artillery, when we had to sleep in those cabins, I’d read over the letters you sent.”

You feel your ears burn. Over the year and a half you managed to send letters to both of them. Some were pages long detailing your day, others were brief and reflected how your days were often in the same cyclic rhythm. When they unpacked earlier, they brought out their stacks tied neatly with an orange, glitter ribbon.

“I’d read those and eat the food that Jungkook prepared and I’d be content. And then before I knew it, it was the next day. I lived like that for a while.”

Hearing that made your heart ache. Jimin was no stranger to hard work but being away and enlisting was something he really wanted to turn away from. It wasn’t that he felt exempted but he felt like he had to give up his control. You brush the shorter strands of his hair with your fingers.

“And I don’t know why one week felt like a month but it did,” Jimin murmurs. You felt a pang of sadness at the strange nature of time. How time warps and stretches or feels like nothing at all. But, as it often does, these realisations revealing themselves in retrospect, being reunited doesn’t feel real either. As if you need even more time to savour it. Instead you say what’s been on your mind ever since they came back, not in uniform but in the clothes you’re familiar with, albiet with shorter hair and plumper cheeks.

“I’m glad you’re home. Both of you.”

When he smiles, his eyes light up. “Me too.”

masterlist.

For other stories involving them: Hotel | Late

[zujime]

─── vi

cw. best friend’s ex! vi, fluff, implied fem reader (no pronouns used tho), acquaintances to lovers, (slight) slow burn, cuddles, sharing a bed, movie nights, pet names mentioned: princess, babe, hun, gorgeous.

note. a lil somthing i conjured up during my period insomnia :)) I'm running on one hour of sleep ya'll mrgh... anyway, should i make another part?

best friend’s ex! vi who you only ever saw in passing when she was still with your bestie. why they broke up was always a topic your friend never really expanded upon but they got off on somewhat good terms—though you do recall the prolonged stares vi would give you when she’d come by.

best friend’s ex! vi who you happened to stumble upon when going to get your lunch at the cafe that was across from your job right after you finished your shift. you remember hearing that she wasn’t really a fan of the food here because “the food ’s just glorified hospital food”, though the silly jab at her comment is caught in your throat when she greets you; silver eyes soft as they flicker between your eyes, scarred lips curling into a shy smirk as the velvety soft sound of her voice reaches your ears.

best friend’s ex! vi who you gave your number to after that same encounter to keep in touch—she’d text you during your breaks to ask silly questions and take your mind off work stress and later call you after your shifts end. and those calls end up lasting far longer than intended, either up until someone falls asleep or till someone’s phone dies.

best friend’s ex! vi who takes three weeks to ask if you wanna hang out, you know, as friends? inviting you over for a movie night at her place on your day off to watch the movies you’d been dying to watch but never got around to. you were able to get through the first two but as soon as the third movie started, you began nodding off before vi felt your head softly fall onto her taut shoulder—your lashes ghosting the exposed skin as you slept peacefully, drooling a little.

best friend’s ex! vi who chuckles slightly at the sight and at the warm, heart-swelling feeling you give her whenever you call, text—hell, whenever she sees your face. she turns the tv off before picking you up and tucking you in her bed before she goes to sleep on the couch.

best friend’s ex! vi who you wake up and walk down the hall to see laid out on the couch, limbs hanging off the couch from under the soft blanket she had on—low mumbles could be heard from her sleeping form, faint yet audible, though they’re cut short as she stretches and slides a hand over her face in hopes of wiping away the sleep, eyelids heavy as she peers at you.

“how long have you been watching me?” her voice still carried the taunt with a softness as she spoke groggily. you feel your face grow warm at her question, despite it being a tease but you brush it off and thank her for letting you stay the night even though none of you intended to have a sleepover. she hums in response before getting up off the couch. “it was like—three in the morning—and i am not some asshole who would’ve just let you go home alone, princess.” the pet name slid so effortlessly off her tongue as she passed by you, to go shower.

best friend’s ex! vi who you find yourself hanging out with more and more, and the pet names she’d give you only seemed to grow—not like you had a problem with it. she’d call you things like babe, princess, and hun far more than she’d ever say your actual name, she even calls you gorgeous, though rather sparingly because sometimes she feels like she’s going a little too far.

best friend’s ex! vi who you refuse to tell your bestie about every time she asks what you’re thinking about whenever you zone out during your monthly outings.

“what’s with that face?” she inquires, giggling a bit at the shamelessly lovesick expression you wore. “what face? what’re you talking about?” you snap back to reality, eyeing your friend anxiously as you listen to her response. “you know, that face people make in those really cheesy romcoms from the 2000s when they’d just met the love of their life or something…” she trailed off, now squinting at you in suspicion. “...are you seeing someone?” “...” “hello?!” “girl, no! i’m thinking about when imma get my mfing food.”

best friend’s ex! vi who you practically live with at this point—because of how often you two have sleepovers, she has a majority of your belongings all around her apartment; your clothes in her closet and dresser, your extra toothbrush and hair products, fav foods/snacks and drinks in the fridge, etc. though, she still insists on sleeping on the couch whenever you stay over despite you stating you have no problem sharing the bed. eventually, she caved—reluctant at first as she squirmed under the comforter to get comfortable beside you until she finally was able to fall asleep. 

best friend’s ex! vi who at first when sharing the bed with you, would often wake up to make sure she wasn’t crowding your space or being touchy in any way. but the moment she woke up to your arms draped over her frame, she softened and decided to just let herself sleep—burying her face in the crook of your neck and holding you close as she slept, yet she still tries to be mindful of her movement so she doesn’t wake you.

best friend’s ex! vi who you realize is a huge sucker for physical affection. oftentimes brushing her hand against yours in hopes of holding it but hesitantly refraining from interlocking fingers when in public. and when the two of you are alone, she desperately leans into whatever you give her—head scratches, movie night cuddles, pinky holding, tracing her tattoos with your fingers, anything.

best friend’s ex! vi who realizes she has feelings for you during one of your typical movie nights, but the look you gave her when the movie ended—eyes reflecting the television screen so prettily as you tilt your head slightly to peer up at her before speaking, but whatever it was you said had completely gone through one ear and out the other as the skin of her ears slowly became a deep red.

"fuck." was the only thought that crossed her mind as she stared at your soft eyes. "vi?" you murmur, a little worried at the expression she wore. but she abruptly stands up before excusing herself and heading to the bathroom.

best friend’s ex! vi who you spent the last few days worrying about—is she ok? is she sick? did you make her uncomfortable? thoughts seemed to race through your head endlessly until she asks if you could come over real quick, through a text.

best friend’s ex! vi who—despite having met multiple people before—gets nervous when you step foot in her apartment. in her eyes, the feeling of her words falling messily from her lips as she spills her guts to you feels weird. but when you creep close to her—lips mere inches from hers as your breaths mingled and eyes heavy-lidded—that feeling dissipates.

best friend’s ex! vi who gets lost in the sea that is your lips as you drown in the feelings she was too scared to show you. callous hands slotting themselves needily on each side of your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss with every shared breath, begging never to part. almost as if accepting her request, you rest a hand against hers, smiling into the searing kiss before finally pulling away for air and softly gazing up at her silver orbs.

© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.

[kichikichiko]

haiiii!! I’d like to put in a request for Boothill x an alcoholic mechanic reader who’s personality takes a complete 180 when drunk, like when the reader is sober they’re a really quiet nervous person but when they feed their addiction they turn into a party animal.(If I had to compare the reader’s personality to an existing character I’d say they’re like hiroi from bocchi the rock) also I think it’d be cute if the reader did things like maintenance checks and fixed up Boothill/his stuff from time to time :3

Moonshine

Happy new year everyone! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و sorry I've been gone for so long!

Also so sorry for taking this long to write your request ;; I had the biggest writers block in my life last year

Hope you like this silly lil fic of Boothill! (He's my favourite character good lord)

Pairing: Boothill x gn mechanic alcoholic! reader

Synopsis: Reader is an alcoholic in disguised, and your client (and secret crush)

Warnings: Fluff, Reader likes drinking alcohol, Reader is mentioned to be shy but takes a 180 on their personality after intaking alcohol, nicknames/ petnames mentioned by Boothil, not proofread.

Working as a mechanic is no easy job. Nights without sleep, days with frustrations. It just never ends! Of course you’re going to turn to alcohol for solace and comfort. It is only natural! You tell yourself. 

It’s not like you drink alcohol as you work no no no. You grab a bottle of alcohol and drown yourself to the intoxicating taste of it after hours. During harder days, you’ll go to a bar during the night and get real drunk. Dancing to the live band, singing with other patrons, talking with strangers… all of that. Because of that, you always prefer to get drunk alone, where no one you know can see that side of you. After all, you were shy and quiet and always got the job done. That’s what your frequent and loyal client, Boothill the cyborg, thinks anyway. 

Boothill is known to run into danger, Hell, he probably is Danger himself. So it’s not surprising he ends up with a few bad damages to his metal body here and there. He always comes to you for a bit (a lot actually-) of fixing up. It’s totally because he thinks you're reliable and not because of any other reason… 

“You should be more mindful about yourself, Boothill. This is the third time you’ve visited my workshop in a week.” You grumbled as you fixed up his mechanic arm. 

“What's all the fuss about sweetheart? My human head is perfectly fine, besides, this time it’s only my arm that’s in rough shape.” He grins which earned him a disapproving shake of your head. 

“Still, that doesn’t mean you're invincible. What if one day your heart is the one getting damaged? You know how much work and stress you’ll put me through?” You weren’t yelling per say, you never yelled at Boothill, or anyone for that matter. But it was very evident you were annoyed and worried. 

Boothill sighed and nodded his head “Alright sugarplum, I’ll be more careful next time.” 

You hummed in response and silence ensued, only the sound of you tinkering with your equipment filled the workshop. Boothill looked at you from his seat. The crease of your eyebrows, the small frown on your lips and the sweat dripping from your forehead so focused on fixing his arm. Sometimes he feels a little guilty, for making you work hard almost everyday when he comes to visit you. He’ll never admit that sometimes he gets into real danger just to see you often. Small maintenance once a week doesn’t cut it for him. He wanted to see you everyday. 

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been working real hard today, how ‘bout after this, I take you out for a drink?” The cowboy smirked, waiting for your reply. He’s never seen you drink before, and he doesn't know if you do, but it’s worth the shot to ask. 

You paused for a second, then looked up at him “You’ll pay?” 

He scoffed at your question. “I’ll getcha as many drinks as you want.”

“Deal.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Hours passed, and you finally closed up your workshop. Boothill seemed to know the area well, because he decided to take you to a bar quite far from your workshop, despite there being a bar quite near your place. Honestly, you were glad for his suggestion. You were a regular customer in the bar near your workshop, and dare not make that known to Boothill. 

You started to regret taking up Boothill’s offer for a drink, in fear of getting drunk and letting your “party animal” side come out. What would he think of you? Would he be shocked? Disgusted?. You shook your head. It's not like I get drunk with just one drink.. but the fear remains. 

When you both arrived at the bar, you made a mental note to just have a maximum of two drinks. 

You and Boothill sat by the bar (counter), “Heya boss, a glass of whiskey for me and..” Boothill turned to you, waiting for your reply. 

“Sweetened mood for me.” you told the Bartender, who nodded and started making your drinks. 

“Thanks for today by the way, (Name). I always know I can count on you to get me back to shape” 

You smiled a little and shook your head. “Not an easy job having you come in so often, but no problem.” Just then, the bartender gave you both your drinks. 

“Aw c’mon, havin’ me around has its perks, don't lie now sugarcube you love havin’ me around.”

You didn’t reply but you silently agreed, and took a sip of your drink.. drink number one. 

The conversation between the two of you flowed so smoothly, like the amount of alcohol you started to drink. It was already more than two, and you felt your cheeks flush. But you didn’t stop. 

As if fate was trying to push you further, a live band started to play, and the urge to dance along kicked in. You felt light headed and tipsy, but instead of stopping you ordered another alcohol and chugged it down. 

“Woah there (name) didn’t know you could drink this much! Had I known, I would’ve taken you out back then!” 

You slammed your cup on the table and laughed “I’m sure you would have, but I would have said no to your offer.” truly the alcohol was taking over your senses, because you felt yourself stand up from your seat and slowly swat to the beat of the song from the live band. Boothill’s eyes followed you and widened when you started dancing to the music. Your laugh, your smile, the red cheeks clearly intoxicated. This was the you he has never seen before, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he grinned and went to the dance floor with you and started dancing along. 

You smiled at him “Follow my movements cowboy, only if you can of course.” You teased.

“Is that a challenge, sugarplum?” The said cowboy teased back. 

“Depends on how you take it.”

The atmosphere of the bar became more lively, dancing, laughing and cheering along. Making you all the more hyped and making Boothill all the more attracted to you. 

Hours later, the music stopped and the atmosphere dulled down to a calm one. By this point, the cowboy knew it was time to take you back.

“You sure caught me by surprise, (name).” He chuckled, carrying your sleeping figure back to your place.

Though you couldn’t hear him, he continued. “I hope you’ll show me this side of you again, sweetheart.”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

Masterlist

Requesting

[exhaslo]

Hiii i was wondering if you could do a miguel x cinnamon bun reader who’s a chubby baker and catches Miguel’s eye sometime when he was out as spiderman and decides to wife her up. And now that they’re together since she’s always baking at home miguel comes home to the smell of cinnamon buns and her as well who’s filled with flour on her face. You can make it smutty if you want, i was just thinking that this scenario was cute 😭😩

have a good dayyy

Crying bc I wrote like half of this before Tumblr froze and deleted everything so I gotta rewrite it again.

Anyway, this is a cute idea. It would be super adorable if Miguel didn't like sweets either...so...without further ado...Time to write again

Warning: None, just fluff, light mentions of sex

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You owned a small bakery in the middle of Nueva York. It was no surprise that the smell of your bakery would attract anyone walking down the block. The aroma of your desserts would attract even the most grumpiest of people.

You were working in the kitchen, sweating as you tried to perfect your latest batch of cupcakes. You took a look around at your workers, smiling as they had fun while making your desserts. You loved your job.

"Hm, I'll take whatever you recommend. I don't really like sweets." A voice from outside said.

Your ears perked up as you heard such a phase. Your curiosity got the best of you as you poked your head out of the kitchen. You saw two men at the counter with your cashier. One was giddy with joy, ordering a bunch of sweets while the other had a stern look at his face.

Slowly, you made your way behind your cashier, avoiding the tall man's gaze. He was handsome, but also somewhat scary. Pulling one of your not so sweet desserts, you carefully placed it in a cute box and slid it towards him on the counter.

"T-This is on the house. I...I hope you like it." You whispered, glancing up at him.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone but this idiot heard me." The man said while pointing at his companion.

"Migueeeel!"

"Thank you," Miguel said with a fanged smile.

You felt your cheeks flush as you rubbed your eyes. You had to be exhausted from working because you swore you saw fangs. Returning your gaze to the handsome man, you smiled as he took a bite. His eyes widen, licking his lips,

"It's good,"

Miguel was surprised by the delightful treat you gave him. He glanced towards you, caught off guard by the cute smile you gave him. He watched as you hurried into the kitchen, shaking with excitement. Unable to stop staring, Miguel looked back down at the dessert.

"Shall I get more of those for you~" Gabriel, Miguel's brother, said with a silly grin. Miguel nudged him away,

"No. I can get these myself."

----------

Miguel was swinging around the city, patrolling for any crime. He stopped, catching whiff of something ridiculously sweet. Disgruntled, he stoop and searched for the source of the smell. His shoulders sunk, spotting your bakery.

Perhaps you were working on a new recipe? Miguel made it a habit to stop by once a week. He enjoyed your company. You were different. Miguel was willing to try anything you gave him as long as it meant seeing your smile.

Sitting against the roof of the building, Miguel just sat there and watched you. You were hard working, helping every customer and your employees. He knew the struggle of managing a business. Hell, Miguel was technally in charge of two companies, if the Spider Society counted as one.

"Haha! She probably eats all her sweets! Look at her!" A rude teenager yelled as his obnoxious friends laughed alongside him.

"P-Please leave!" You begged.

Miguel stepped in once he saw tears form. He jumped onto the sidewalk and quietly walked behind you. His presence scaring the teenagers away. You whimpered, rubbing your eyes and sniffing before turning around and yelping.

"It's okay. I just scared them away," Miguel whispered, not wanting to spook you.

"Thank you," You whispered, still shaking. Miguel wanted to comfort you, but he knew this wasn't the right time or place,

"Don't let those kids get to you."

"I-I'm used to it...A chubby girl who owns a bakery. I hear it a lot." You whispered. Miguel grinded his teeth together,

"You're beautiful."

"Haha, thanks. That cheered me up," You said with that sweet smile of yours, "Here, let me give you a treat as thanks."

You hummed happily as you held Spiderman's hand, leading him into your bakery. Your customers were surprised, but went about their business. You looked behind the counter and took out one of your newest desserts, placing it in a cute box.

"I just made this, I hope you like it."

You watched as Spiderman's mask slowly disappeared revealing his lower half of his face. Your eyes widen as you saw fangs when he took a bite. Your smile widen as you thought of your regular Miguel, whom you liked.

"It's good." He said. You just giggled,

"Thank you."

--------

Miguel was determined to wife you up. He had started to stop by your bakery three times a week, chatting and getting to know you on a deeper level. Once he found out that you were single, he did not hesitate to ask you out.

Miguel wanted you. He was determined to protect you and keep his sweet little baker by his side. You were so sweet and cute that Miguel was having a hard time restraining himself. He wanted to swing you in his arms and make you his.

By your fifth date, Miguel kissed you. He held you close to him, enjoying your flushed cheeks and shy expression. He was your first for everything and Miguel was going to savior everything about that. He was going to enjoy giving you everything.

By your twelfth date, you admitted to him that you knew he was Spiderman. Miguel was slightly embarrassed, but felt a weight off his chest since he didn't have to hide it from you anymore. With his secret known to you, Miguel was able to give you even more affection due to his powers.

The first time you guys had sex, Miguel went overboard. He joked about you being his dessert for the night and ended up filling you like one of your cupcakes. He had to apologize to you, but you weren't complaining. It was the best night of your life.

Finally, after a few months, Miguel offered to have you move in with him. You were hesitate, but after some reassuring, you agreed. You were currently in your shared house, making a new recipe while waiting for Miguel to return from work.

"Mhm~ I wonder if my customers will like this~" You cooed, trying the cookies.

"Of course they will. You're the one making them," Miguel hummed as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Miguel~ You're home!" You chirped. Miguel kissed your neck, his hands groping your tummy,

"Missed you, baby. Couldn't stop thinking about you all day,"

"M-Miguel," You glanced away, feeling flustered, "D-Do you want to try my cookies?"

"Of course, but I'll be enjoying my cookies later," He whispered, groping your breasts.

"Miguel~"

Miguel chuckled lowly, capturing your lips in a kiss before willingly tried the cookie. He scrunched his face up, still not liking sweets, but told you that they were amazing.

You chuckled towards him, letting him know that you'll make some dinner. Miguel wanted to complain, saying something about feasting on you, but you managed to convince him to shower. You couldn't help but smile, happy that you found someone who loved you just the way you are.

"Oh, (Y/N), I've been meaning to ask," Miguel started as he came out of the shower, "Did you give Spider Chef a recipe for a Spiderman burger that looks like me?"

"..."

Miguel sighed heavily, "It's a best seller." He muttered,

"Yai~ I knew it~" You cheered happily.

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched you do your cute little cheer. You were defiantly going to make it up later. Miguel did think it was time for you to have little helpers after all.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hehe, hope you enjoyed~

Part 2 (smut)

[mochinomnoms]

Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love. 

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills. 

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections. 

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole. 

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead. 

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you. 

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice. 

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched. 

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned. 

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink. 

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song. 

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him. 

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had. 

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands. 

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back. 

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that. 

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you. 

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating. 

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.” 

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape. 

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.” 

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic: 

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it. 

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse. 

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes. 

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room. 

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!” 

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff. 

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind. 

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls. 

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing. 

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off. 

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you. 

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you. 

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off. 

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you. 

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away. 

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours. 

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful. 

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really. 

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you. 

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.” 

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes. 

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head. 

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day. 

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek. 

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess. 

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors. 

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge. 

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle. 

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable. 

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea. 

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you? 

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you. 

“What if…he gets bored?” 

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you. 

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent. 

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile. 

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.” 

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder. 

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror. 

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!” 

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!” 

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting. 

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses. 

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face. 

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed. 

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking  visibly annoyed as he continued. 

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything. 

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead. 

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form. 

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin. 

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart. 

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate. 

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own. 

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth. 

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

[padfootagain]

Some Perfect Bloopers

Hello! Today, we are answering a request by @thenerdysimp : ‘I just had another idea, and I don’t know if you’ve done something like this already but I’d like to request it anyway.

I know you’ve done one where she surprises Ben on his birthday but I was thinking that maybe she just randomly for no reason in particular surprises him on set of shadow and bone. Like she has talked to the crew and the cast telling them that she is coming so that they are in on the surprise. She has contact with Jessie or someone and they tell her when Ben is filming a scene so she can walk on set to get a good clip of him getting distracted by her for the bloopers or something. It’s all just a cute surprise reunion🥰’

Hope you enjoy what I’ve prepared for your request!

I hope everybody enjoys this little piece of pure cuteness! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: Unbearable cuteness and tooth-rotting fluff

Summary: The cast of SaB and you organise a surprise for Ben: you’re coming to Hungary without warning and surprise him on set. Of course, the camera’s rolling, it will make some amazing bloopers…

Word Count: 1845

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You were nervous, even if there were no reasons for you to be.

There was still a lump in your throat, a twist at the pit of your stomach. You rubbed your clammy hands on your dark jeans, before climbing out of your cab, staring at the large building where the Shadow and Bone cast was working…

You had come in Hungary a couple of times while Ben was working on the first season of his show, but the view of the large building was still impressive.

You thanked the taxi driver as he helped you with your large suitcase, paid for your ride. You had barely turned around that Kaz Brekker was appearing behind you, only, Freddy’s version was wearing a large grin.

“Y/N!”

You laughed at his warm welcome, giving Freddy a hug. It was still a little strange to see him in full costume.

“Wow, look at you, mister Brekker!” you joked. “A true Crow!”

“Thanks! Luckily for us all, even after a couple of years, I still got it!”

You laughed, and Freddy picked up your heavy bag while you dragged your suitcase towards the building. You would be staying for three full weeks, so your luggage was rather heavy.

“How was your flight? Everything went fine?” Freddy asked, holding the door for you.

“Thanks. Yes, it was alright. Just… exhausting, but it all went smoothly.”

“You could take a nap for a few hours and see Ben this afternoon…”

But he laughed as he caught your eyes.

“Absolutely not. I haven’t seen him in seven weeks, I don’t care about not sleeping for three days to see him if I have to!”

Freddy laughed hard at that, raising a soothing hand, the black glove shining slightly under the artificial light of the hall.

“Alright, alright. Well, Ben is filming in area B today, I’ll get you there. You’ll have to hide with the make-up team for about half an hour, they’re doing a scene that’s a bit too technical to waste time on it for now. But then, Jessie and Ben have some heavy dialogue to go through, it’ll be better suited for our devilish plan.”

“Heavy dialogue?” you laughed, and Freddy soon joined you.

“Well, it gets kind of heavy when characters want to kill each other all the damn time.”

“True, true…”

Freddy hid you away in the make-up department, and you spent some time chatting with a couple of artists you had met before, waiting for one of the Crows to come and pick you up. The planned half-an-hour turned into a full hour, but you didn’t mind waiting. What you minded was the way your heart raced in your chest as Kit appeared by the door.

He rushed to hug you first, but you were surprised to find the whole gang waiting for you in the corridor.

“What are you all doing here?” you asked, hugging Calahan.

“Do you really thing that we would miss Ben’s face when he sees you? Absolutely not!”

You chuckled at their silliness, but were glad to accept their company as you walked across the building to reach the large hangar where the set had been built.

Ben was shooting a scene in some kind of cave, filled with parchments, torches and old wooden tables.

Everyone was in on the prank, and you wondered how they had managed to keep Ben in the dark. Even the director waved and shot you a mischievous wink when you walked in.

You easily hid behind Calahan’s large shoulders to walk in the room unnoticed, and remained quiet as Ben and Jessie finished their scene, a mix of anger and seduction. Ben was facing you, but he was deep in character and barely noticed the large group coming in. You were, for the most part, hidden in the shadows anyway.

You loved watching him work. He was impressive like this, in a dark kefta, with scars across his face, in full make-up and costume. His voice was deeper than usual, firm and threatening, a tone you weren’t used to hear coming from such a sweet man. He still looked mesmerizing though, oozing charms and something magnetic that made you want to run to him as soon as you saw him. He was talented enough to make you feel as threatened as Alina would have been if this were real.

The loud Cut! rang through the room, and you hid more carefully behind Calahan, making sure Ben wouldn’t notice you if he looked up.

And he did. He frowned hard at the sight of the entire group standing there, behind the cameras.

“Hi!” he laughed, Jessie turning towards the crows as well.

But if Ben seemed puzzled, Jessie couldn’t refrain an excited grin.

“What are you all doing here?” Ben asked, frowning.

“We’ve come take a look!” Freddy answered.

“And we’re waiting for you to go to lunch. Hurry up! We’re starving!” lied Amita.

You were struggling hard not to laugh, imagining Ben’s face as he let out an amused chuckle.

“Alright, alright,” he shrugged, used to his co-stars’ silliness.

Archie thought it would be hilarious to tease you some more and started poking at your arm. You almost choked as you swatted his hand away, and Ben seemed to notice the laughter Archie was trying to hold back.

“What are you all planning now?” Ben asked slowly, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Nothing…”

The director faked to check something on the screen, before interrupting the group’s banter.

“It was very good, both of you. But I think we should try to move the camera differently. We’ll do the same scene again, just to get another angle.”

“Should we change our marks?” Ben asked.

“No, no, no. We’ll just change the movement of the camera to catch the light differently. Just play the same thing again.”

Ben and Jessie were given a few seconds to fall back into character, before the camera was rolling again.

And that was your moment to strike.

Ben was focused on Jessie, speaking in a slow, half-seducing and half-threatening tone. He didn’t notice at first that everyone was moving away to let you pass through. He was bothered by the movements beyond Jessie, but he was too focused to realise what was happening. Only when you stepped before the whole group did he start losing focus. Because there was a patch of colour, there, beyond Jessie’s shoulder, that was the exact hue of his favourite shirt of yours…

He couldn’t help but blink and look up, just for a second, but then…

… it lasted but an instant and yet he was almost certain that he had seen your shirt and… you… wearing it…

He did a double-take, blinking a few times more while doubt clouded his mind and he lost track of his piece of dialogue, and looked up again, his gaze lingering on your frame this time.

His mouth fell open and he completely silent.

You… You were there…

Jessie started laughing, moving out of the way, while everyone exploded with laughter, while realization slowly sank in Ben’s mind.

He closed his eyes tightly, a grin breaking across his features as he buried his face in both his hands.

You walked closer, chuckling and grinning even though you had tears in your eyes. After all… you had missed him so much.

He bent over for a couple of seconds, before standing straighter again.

“SURPRISE!” Jessie started the shout, but everyone in the room joined in.

Ben looked up, standing straighter again. He finally lowered his hands, and he walked towards you, closing the distance between the two of you in an instant. You welcomed him with open arms and he held you tight, his face immediately buried in your hair.

“What are you doing here?!” he asked, throat tight with emotion, but there was also so much joy in his tone, such a bright smile on his face…

“I’m here to see you, obviously.”

“How long?”

“Three weeks.”

You breathed in his perfume, your nose pressed to his shoulder, before he would pull away just enough to look at you. He was grinning and crying at the same time, and so were you.

“Three weeks?!” he asked, taken aback. “And you haven’t told me anything?”

“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I had, would it?”

“And everyone knew, I suppose.”

“I had my accomplices.”

He let out a bright laugh, holding you close again.

People started cheering, and Ben seemed to remember where he was, where he stood, that he was surrounded by his colleagues and was not, in fact, alone with you.

He blushed fiercely, pulling away. But then again, you looked so beautiful, and your smile was so bright, and your lips were so tempting, and he had missed you so much…

Damn be the whole crew. Damn be the teasing he would earn from this. Damn be every single one of his castmates for clearly being in on it.

Damn be the rest of the world, of the Universe even, when you stood there, before him, after so many weeks spent apart, when a mere hour already seemed way too much to be spent without you.

He stared into your eyes again, hands moving from around you to hold your face, tender yet firm, to make sure you would remain close.

“Damn it. All of it.”

And before you could reply, Ben was leaning down to kiss you. Passionately, deeply, like there was no one else in the room.

People shouted, catcalled, cheered. You barely noticed a sound. You were too busy abandoning yourself to the feeling of his lips, of his tongue, of his hands over your cheeks… melting against his tall frame, feeling lucky he was there to catch you when your knees were too weak to bear your weight.

When you broke apart again, out of breath, you were both grinning like idiots, brushing your noses together, holding on each other tight again.

And Ben didn’t seem to notice that the camera was still rolling. That about a year later, the footage would be used to tease him profusely by the cast until a part of it would be revealed for the entirety of the internet to go absolutely insane. He barely noticed his colleagues at all until he finally took a step back, holding both your hands in his, but turning to the room around him. No, he didn’t notice anything for a while but you, your eyes, your smile, your perfume…

“I’ve missed you so much,” Ben whispered, lips barely parted from yours at all. “Thank you so much for coming here.”

“I’ve missed you too. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

He shook his head in amazement, still barely able to believe it was all real.

“You’re really here.”

It was more of a statement than a question. Still, it was hesitant, uncertain. Your voice, though, was perfectly steady when you answered. It was more of a promise than a statement.

“I’ll always be here, Ben. Always.”

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

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic

[lefarte]

Nosramus x reader (for an anonymous requester!)

Tags: GN reader, fluff, comfort ^_^, I used all pronouns for Nosramus here

The dungeon was always unnaturally cold. You had felt cold before, you understood what it was like to nearly freeze to death, but every step you took deeper was almost unbearable. The mines had sent jolts through your bones every step that nearly made your knees buckle. It had sent you into a near primal state. Your throat burned. You couldn’t feel your fingers.

With no concept of night or day, or how long you had been here anymore, you were wandering aimlessly like a ghoul through the gray tunnels. And then you saw a little spark of light.

Like an animal, you gnashed your teeth, baring your weapon with cold hands. Your body pulsed with adrenaline. Your pupils were unfocused and darting back and forth, you were ravenous and enamated an intent to kill or to die or to claw someone’s eyes out. The person with the torch hadn’t moved a muscle.

Narrowing your bleary eyes, you saw a woman - or a man? A figure with long hair. It was well kept, and quite beautiful, even. They were looking at the ground.

“Who goes there!” You bristled.

They looked up at you. The torchlight only illuminated the faintest of his features through flickers. You had expected something ghoulish, but, no. This was a person - or person enough. Slender, almost rangy, and pale, but the best sight you’d seen in weeks.

After the silence that followed, you felt a sense of shame for pointing your weapon at her.

“I beg your pardon?” His voice was soft for a man, or deep for a woman. It was gentle, but clear, and rung nicely on the dungeon walls.

“Who are you?” You did not put away your weapon. You couldn’t bring yourself to, after all you’d suffered.

“Just a fellow collecting some mushrooms.” They shrugged. She didn’t regard your weapon with any kind of fear, in fact, she ignored it as if it wasn’t there.

You frowned.

“These ones grow off of human and animal excrement. Although, the soil of the blood pit is much too much iron for any plant life to survive. They hang around the outskirts. I think the shape of them is rather cute. Plus, they’re very nutritious...”

“I don’t give a damn about mushrooms right now.”

“I think it would do you some good.”

They made a gentle come-hither motion with their hands, as if you were a frightened animal.

You paused. And then, with some trepidation, you stalked forward. You stood about a foot away from her, making your wariness clear.

“It’s been some time since I’ve last had company,” He mused. “I can’t see your face from over there. Would you come into the light?”

“Swear not to do anything,” You demanded, though it sounded desperate.

“I will not.” They soothed. “I would have no reason to.”

You sat down on your haunches by the torch, huddling as close to the torchlight as possible.

“Oh my. You’re quite chilly, aren’t you?” She examined you. “It’s been so long. I forget how cold it is. I have a blanket for you, dear.”

You looked at him with big eyes.

Sensing that you would not do it on your own, he draped it over you himself. It was but rags, and thin, but the gesture felt so kind that it caught you off guard.

“Thank you,” You murmured.

She laughed. “Silly thing. Don’t stand so close to the fire.”

You did not move, anyway. She reached out a hand to you. You flinched, and then paused again, as the pale hand went up to your head and gave you some gentle pats. A quiet whimper slipped out of your mouth. You realized that you were nuzzling into his hand quite instinctually, but it only made him chuckle.

“Let me guess,” They hummed. “You are wanting my mushrooms?”

You nodded.

“Have some,” He pushed the basket of the round, bulbous mushrooms towards you. In the dim of the light, you could almost imagine the little round buns as some kind of warm bread, or even a sweet pastry. “I could spare some time for you. You are so unusually sweet, if you don’t mind me saying. Most people here are unpleasant company.”

Hardly hearing the words from her mouth, you devoured a mushroom. Your nose wrinkled.

“I suppose it is an acquired taste, yes.” He smiled.

You reached for the basket again a few times, each time glancing up at her for approval, where she always gave you a silent nod of ‘go on’.

“Goodness. Please do remember to chew them. Wouldn’t do you any good to choke down here, would it?”

You sniffled a little as you choked down your fifth mushroom. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

He looked like he might have patted your head again, but he didn’t.

“Oh.. oh, it’s that time already, isn’t it?” She murmured. You looked up at her with an almost betrayed expression, and guarded the mushrooms you had snatched with your hands, as if she might take them from you.

“I am terribly sorry, but I have ought to get going.” She stood up. You never realized how tall she was until you were looking up at her from this angle. He was ethereal, beautiful in an uncanny way.

You pulled the basket closer to yourself.

“That’s quite funny. Keep the basket and the torch to yourself, poppet.” He smiled. “Do come find me again one of these days. I hate to see you go, but I’ve kept you quite long enough. Bye~”

You reached out to grab her cloak, but she had already gone.

[1d1195]

Physics V

By popular opinion, we have another installment of our college friends studying together. Please read the rest here: Physics, or if you don't feel like it, I left them just about to have hot chocolate and watch a movie.

You know me, this a bit of a mess and all over the place. I hope you like it anyway. It's been another tough week and honestly I don't see the following weeks getting much better. This was pretty therapeutic for me and I think it's cute even if it's a lot. Sorry for venting and ranting. Thank you for reading.

All fluff

4.4k words

Studying, physics, decorating, coffee, and hot chocolate... she was confident in these areas of her life. Confident that she knew what she was talking about. Harry, boys, and flirting...she wasn’t the least bit confident.

Her heart was thudding so loudly in her chest she could hardly hear the movie. She was a bit worried that Harry could hear how embarrassingly loud her heart was beating beside him. What movie did she even pick? Did she even pick it? If Harry picked it, she was going to have to excuse herself to use the bathroom and Google the plot so as not to embarrass herself further because she hadn’t a clue what had happened in the last half hour.

The middle cushion left a sizable distance between them, and all Harry could think about was how much he wanted to pull her across the desert of space between them, lay her across the length of the sofa, and kiss her until he forgot why he was even there. Harry watched the movie intently so he wouldn’t stare at her the whole time. He reached for the hot chocolate on the coffee table just so he would have something to do (and so he could get a longer glimpse of her pretty being at the other end of the couch).

He smiled softly. “Have y’seen this one?” He asked.

She shook her head. If she had, it wasn’t like she remembered it anyway. Not with Harry’s aura invading all her thoughts and making her forget her own name. “No...”

“Me either.” She was intently focused on her TV screen which gave Harry just a moment to gaze at her without being suspicious. The hot chocolate tasted extra good. Part of him thought it was merely because she was the one who made it. “Secret recipe?” He asked, putting the mug back on the coffee table.

A small smile played at her lips and Harry truly thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his whole life. “Uh...just add a hint of cinnamon.”

“S’really good.”

“I love hot chocolate,” she explained. “Have you ever seen those hot chocolate bars?” She asked. “Like on TikTok or Pinterest? Er...You probably don’t have Pinterest,” she backtracked. “Anyway...” she felt herself rambling and Harry was looking at her like she wasn’t. Like what she was saying was interesting and she wasn’t talking about something so silly.

“I haven’t, kitten,” his voice was so gentle. “Show me,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “No...s’nothing special. It’s just a bunch of little jars and things and you put it on the counter or a little bar cart or something...I don’t know. I think they’re cute.”

“They sound cute,” he said encouragingly hoping she would change her mind. She wouldn’t budge though.

“Um...maybe another time. I don’t want to interrupt the movie.” Harry nodded. His phone continued to vibrate on the coffee table beside his hot chocolate. He flipped it over, so the screen was faced down. “Are you sure you’re not needed elsewhere? I know we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, I wouldn’t want to take you away from your friends or whatever. I’m sure they have way better plans than a Christmas movie a month earlier than should be watched.”

Harry smirked to himself shaking his head, keeping his eyes on the movie. “No, love,” he said simply. “M’fine here, s’long as y’don’t mind m’company,” he didn’t look at her because he didn’t want to make her feel awkward; just in case she did want him to leave.

“I just know that I’m a little boring and I know you’re usually at parties and—”

“How do y’know that?” He smirked. He reached for the remote between their hot chocolate mugs and paused the movie before turning to look at her again.

Harry could see right through her, she was sure. Studying, physics, decorating, coffee, and hot chocolate... she was confident in these areas of her life. Confident that she knew what she was talking about. Harry, boys, and flirting...she wasn’t the least bit confident. Harry was this beautiful, perfect guy that every single girl on campus couldn’t stop talking about whenever he passed by. In the library she heard hushed whispers of Harry at parties with his friends. On a jog around campus, she heard girls swooning about him and how he was really good at beer pong. For Halloween he and his friends dressed up as firefighters and it was literally all anyone could talk about.

She blushed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Just hear things.”

He smiled, tilted his head at her in appreciation. “M’rather enjoying this evening,” he said softly. “S’nice t’relax and hang out with you.”

It felt way too good to be true.

Eventually their attention turned back to the movie. Then a second movie. Now it was nearing ten PM, and her eyes were burning a bit from the screen. Harry had gone to the bathroom while she cleaned up the hot chocolate mugs. She yawned, flopping back into her seat on the couch and Harry returned falling into his own spot. It felt odd he had his own spot already. She believed it was his and she thought maybe when he left, she would sit in it, just to soak up the heavenly scent of his cologne.

“D’you want t’watch another?” He asked.

She wanted to sleep but there was no way she was going to tell Harry to leave willingly. He would have to go on his own. She nodded. “Sure,” she said. “Can I get you anything?” She asked.

He shook his head. “M’fine, kitten,” he smiled sweetly.

But it was the third movie that did them in. Both fell asleep before even halfway through it. Her TV was set on a timer, so it turned off at one in the morning if it was on. But when Harry woke up in the dark room (except for the beautiful tree illuminating a gentle glow over her apartment) and looked at his phone, he saw it was almost two thirty in the morning.

Blinking against the brightness of his screen he turned his attention to the pretty girl snuggled in the corner of her sofa. He pulled one blanket off the back of the seat and rested it over her. He watched her sigh with relief as she nuzzled deeper into the back cushion. Harry didn’t want to leave her. Especially not alone on the couch. The lights from the tree created a golden effect and cast over her. Harry thought she was beautiful anyway, but this made him want to kneel before her and stare at her until his eyes fell out of his head.

But he didn’t want the tree to catch on fire either. He quietly unplugged it, making her apartment completely dark, and he fell back into the other end of her couch. Pulling another blanket around himself, he fell asleep almost immediately, that stretch of a couch cushion desert still aching him to the bone as it mocked him from between them.

*

“Shut. Up,” she hissed.

“You’re making Harry Styles pancakes, you’re so fucking stupid,” another voice whispered. “He fell asleep on our couch. Do you know how many girls would kill to be you?”

Harry could smell something sweet and assumed it had to be pancakes based on the conversation he heard so far. He smirked to himself. The sofa was warm and comfy. He wished she hadn’t left because he would have loved to see her expression when he woke up. The apartment was warm, and it felt like Christmas. Or maybe it was just because she seemed to be the embodiment of all good things like Christmas and it made him warm that way.

“Can you be quiet? You’re going to wake him,” she whispered. It was early. Harry hadn’t a chance to look at his phone yet but it was cold and felt like the sun had hardly risen.

“Babe,” the other girl sounded exhausted. “You have Harry Styles on your couch right now. He stayed in on a Friday night to decorate, watch Christmas movies, and drink hot chocolate with you. It’s a date.”

Harry’s heart was fluttering against his ribs. It felt so childish and silly, but he liked it. “I’m just tutoring him.”

“In what? Falling in love? Pancakes will seal the deal. I fell in love with you the first time you made pancakes. Pretty sure Mitch would leave me for your pancakes, and I can’t say I blame him.”

“They’re not even that special.”

“Oh my God.”

Harry needed to make some kind of indication that he was awake, but he didn’t know how. Fortunately, there was a knock on the door. Harry took that as his cue and yawned in exaggeration as he headed to the door. He rubbed his hand into his eye.

He could sense two pairs of eyes on his back as he headed to the door. “I told you she wouldn’t kill him,” Niall said as the door was pulled out of the way. “Louis was worried,” Niall said stepping around Harry.

“Please, come in,” Harry grumbled. Louis marched right past Harry and the poor girl looked so stunned he thought she might cry.

“It smells so good in here,” Louis remarked. “Hey love,” he waved to the sweet girl who looked utterly confused and nervous in the kitchen doorway.

“Uh...hi,” she said softly waving awkwardly back.

Niall dropped a bag on the sofa. “Louis was worried you may have killed Harry. Not that we’d blame you, darling. Can’t imagine having to tutor this sorry sap,” he explained.

Harry rolled his eyes and peeked in the bag to find an array of clothing and toiletries. He was a little grateful that Niall and Louis knew he would need it at the very least. Even if it was a bit forward. Harry finally took notice of how adorable she looked once more. She had changed her clothes. She wore cozy leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. All he wanted was to wrap her in his arms and kiss her until the end of time. “Sorry for just barging over, love,” Louis said. “But we just wanted to rescue you if Harry was bothering you...plus if you did kill him that would make our life a bit harder since his name is on the lease. Not that we’d blame you, of course. I love your Christmas decorations. It’s so nice and cozy in here.”

“I’m Sarah,” the other girl offered; trying to help the poor thing. She looked so rattled Harry wanted to scoop her into his arms and protect her from his friends and their annoying, silly, banter.

“D-do you all want pancakes?” She asked.

“Oh, is that what smells so good? Yes, please, darling,” Niall said excitedly and dropped onto the couch like he had been here a thousand times. But that was her spot and Harry didn’t like Niall sitting there. Where were the two of them going to sit?

“May as well call Mitch and get him over here,” Sarah smiled with unadulterated enjoyment in her eyes as she pressed her phone to her ear.

“Okay...um...I’ll be right back,” she said hurrying back to the kitchen.

Harry glared at his friends. “You’re both insane,” he grumbled and followed her and the scent of pancakes. She was dropping batter into the middle of a griddle spread across two of the stovetop elements. He couldn’t deny his friends were right. It smelled heavenly in the kitchen. “M’sorry, kitten,” he said quickly.

“What for? It’s nice your friends came looking for you,” she smiled. “Pancakes are easy for a crowd too,” she promised.

He sighed. She was a literal delight, and he didn’t deserve that. “I can have us all leave. I’ve obviously overstayed m’welcome. And s’rude of them t’invite themselves over,” he explained. “Does it bother Sarah?”

She shook her head. “It’s really no trouble at all. Sarah doesn’t mind in the slightest. She was just coming to check on me and things. She was...surprised to see you,” she shrugged.

“Love, I told you you’re supposed to text me if you’re making pancakes!” A new voice shouted from the other room. Sarah walked by her and Harry, rolling her eyes at the sound of her boyfriend.

“These pancakes must be something,” Harry grinned sweetly.

“I guess, I just put vanilla extract in them. And sometimes I add syrup to the batter,” she shrugged. “It’s not really a secret,” but Harry thought that maybe, much like her hot chocolate, it simply tasted better because she made it and did it with so much affection for her friends and essentially strangers.

“Well thank you, kitten,” he said kindly.

She nodded. “I...I have to go to the bookstore from nine to two. You can stay here until then if you’d like. Sarah can give you a key or something if she and Mitch leave.”

Harry was a little take aback that she really was going to just leave Harry and his friends alone in her pretty Christmassy apartment. He bit the inside of his lip. “Yeah?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged.

“I jus’ have t’run a few errands...but I bet I’ll beat y’back here,” he told her watching her movements so effortlessly in front of the stove. The entire time she was flipping pancakes and cutting up fruit to go with it. She grabbed plates, whipped cream, and syrup. “Well, maybe we’ll never leave,” he smiled softly.

Biting the inside of her lip she smiled to herself. Because honestly, that didn’t sound so bad. “You’re welcome to shower if you want. Just have Sarah turn on the water for you. The lever is a little tricky when you first use it.”

*

Harry was sad to find she had left while he was in the shower. So maybe it wasn’t as early as he thought it was—he still hadn’t looked at his phone. Everyone was silent as they stuffed their faces with fruit and pancakes. Niall kept making obscene moaning noises.

“If you don’t ask her out, I will,” he groaned.

Harry glared at him. Sarah and Mitch smirked knowingly at one another as they ate silently. “Harry has been over the moon about his new tutor,” Louis told Sarah. It felt like Louis and Niall were talking about their son to his potential girlfriend’s parents. It was so embarrassing. “He has hope he’ll pass now. He couldn’t stop talking about her.”

“Thank you,” Harry grumbled around the fluffiest, yummiest pancake he had ever eaten. It was even difficult to feign his annoyance at his friends.

Sarah smiled with that same unadulterated pleasure she had before. “She’s really excited too,” she promised.

“She’s pretty busy,” Niall remarked.

Mitch nodded. “She likes to be busy,” he shrugged.

Harry kept a silent note of that in his mind. “Louis, Niall, will you do the dishes?” Harry asked.

“Aw, Dad, do we have to?” Louis whined.

He rolled his eyes. “Spotless, when I get back.”

*

She was refolding T-shirts and putting away sweatshirts back on the right racks when the ping of the bookstore door signaled that someone was entering. She glanced at her watch to see that it was almost fifteen minutes before close. She knew she should have put the closed sign up and the metal grate down before she started on the returns. All she wanted to do was go back to her apartment and hope that Harry really was still there.

“Hey beautiful,” his perfect, honey-warmed voice called. She dropped the textbook she was bringing back to it’s spot. Narrowly avoiding her foot with it’s heavy weight.

“Oh,” she blinked. “Hi Harry.”

“Hi, kitten. Sorry t’scare you... Thought y’might want a ride back since s’cold out,” he smiled spinning his ring of keys around his index finger. She blinked.

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to go out of your way...or mess up your plans,” she blushed bending to grab the textbook.

He shook his head. “No way, love. Jus’ wanted t’make sure y’weren’t cold. No plans except t’study with you,” he smiled. “Those pancakes were amazing. M’sorry I missed y’leaving.”

She was so stunned by him appearing out of nowhere and once more just being so...nice. She felt her insides turning into mush and her brain was glitching out. How was she supposed to continue tutoring him when he was so utterly breathtaking? Just his kind nature made her speechless.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry I didn’t get to—”

“Niall and Louis cleaned up for you, too.”

“They didn’t need to—”

“Of course, they did, kitten. Y’fed them. S’the least they could do actually.”

She was worried if she spoke again he would interrupt her and she was officially out of things to say. “Um...” she slid the book back onto the shelf with the ones that looked just like it. “I just have to...do a few more things until close.”

“I’ll be here,” he said wandering the aisles looking at things. “Won’t touch anything either,” he promised with a wink. “Can’t remember the last time I was in here,” he murmured.

She bit the inside of her lip and as he meandered and headed to the gate to close, finally.  As she pulled the gate down, there was a group of girls who caught sight of the brown curls that were looking at the array of clothing for parents. “Hey kitten?” He called. The group turned to the sound of his voice. One practically gasped. Another gaped openly as they realized Harry was talking to her.

“Yeah?” She called back sounding so unsure.

“D’you think m’mum would actually like this?” He asked holding up a long sleeve shirt with the college’s name, logo, and “Mom” written on the front. “Like would y’get this for your mum?” He asked.

She could feel their gazes on her and she knew they were thinking that it was insane that Harry was talking to her. “Um...I would probably just get her a regular item. I think the mom ones are a little...on the nose?” She explained.

He smiled. “Got it,” Harry carefully folded the shirt and placed it back just as he found it.

“Hey Harry!” One girl called from the gate. “Missed you at the party last night!”

Harry winked at her as he walked toward the gate. She didn’t pay any mind to their conversation, knowing they were taking turns staring at her while Harry stood caged in from them.

After she finished all the closing tasks she grabbed her purse and put it across her body before she slowly walked toward Harry touching up the displays as she went to escape them. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Probably not,” he shrugged. “M’really focusing on m’physics class,” he explained. “I need all the help I can get...right, kitten?”

Part of her felt stupid for answering to the little pet name as if it were her own. But she couldn’t help but turn to the sound of his voice calling her the name and then meeting ten pairs of eyes—eight of which were glaring at her. Two of which were so green and so gentle.

“You’re not so bad,” she murmured.

“Sorry ladies,” he shrugged. “Maybe next weekend. Ready, love?” He asked turning his back to the group who continued to stare at him and glare at her.

Was she ready to get out of there? Yes. Very much so.

*

Harry let her walk in first and closed the door behind him. She kicked her shoes off and headed to the kitchen. She needed a glass of water before they started studying. Sarah already texted her to let her know that someone told someone told someone that Harry wasn’t going out in favor of studying with some girl.

When he asked her if she could tutor, the entire dining hall stared at her as if they had never seen her before—like she appeared from thin air the moment Harry talked to her. Now they heard Harry call her sweet names and ditch his party habits all because he had to study. On a Saturday.

Harry stood in the middle of the sitting room waiting for her reaction—whatever it would be. She returned silently—sans water. Her eyes were huge. Harry smiled kindly.

“Everything alright, kitten?” He asked.

“You...” she stared at him. “You... made me a hot chocolate bar?”

Harry shrugged. “S’least I can do,” he looked a little surprised. He didn’t understand her confusion. This seemed only natural that he would do this. It seemed obvious to him that he was...infatuated with her so readily, easily. How could he be anything but? She was intelligent, beautiful, and utterly kind. The embodiment of happiness and holidays.

She returned to the kitchen to look at the tray set up on the counter. There were mason jars of varying sizes. Displayed perfectly. Marshmallows, chocolate chips, candy canes, little wooden scoops, cookies, sprinkles. It looked like Harry had raided the entire display of Christmas goodies at Target.

The anxiety she felt from Harry being so nice was overwhelming. “Y-you didn’t have to do that,” there was a lump in her throat. It was just so nice she could feel tears threatening, aching in the back of her eyes.

“Kitten?” He asked gently.

She didn’t want to look at him. She wanted to stare at the kind gesture he had so thoughtfully made while she was at work. Seeing the dishes were done from breakfast too...by his friends. Everything about Harry was unlike any guy she had ever met.

But...he was so...him. He was nothing like her. He was confident, gorgeous, funny, and sweet. He probably dated girls that could drink her under the table. Or wouldn’t mind kissing him in front of an entire party. Who could blame them really? Harry had lips that deserved to be kissed every moment of the day. He looked like he should be kissed in front of audiences simply because he was too beautiful not to be. She was certain the group of girls outside the bookstore would kiss him without a care in the world.

He would never, ever want to kiss or be around someone that had her nose stuck in a physics book and could hardly talk to a guy without rambling or feeling awkward.

“Thank you,” she murmured politely. The words came out breathlessly because if she added any volume she would have resorted to tears and Harry would someone comfort her and make her feel even worse than she already did about the whole predicament.

“Are y’alright, love?” He asked, concern dripped in his voice. He reached out like he was going to touch her back but stopped before his hand got to her.

She nodded silently, unable to look away from the little ribbons tied like perfectly wrapped presents around the mason jars. “Uh...yeah. Do you want to study?” She cleared her throat.

He frowned. “Um...sure.”

She felt like she lost some game that she didn’t even know she was playing.

Harry watched her leaving the kitchen and felt so lost. Was it not obvious that he adored her? The hot chocolate bar was hardly anything in comparison to what she deserved. Right as she crossed the threshold, he grabbed her hand and tugged her back toward him. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked.

She shook her head, not looking up at his eyes. “No! Of course not, Harry.”

“Y’seem...sad...I made a chocolate bar for you,” he pouted.

Sighing, she tried not to think about the electric feeling of Harry’s hand in hers. It made her nervous that her hand was starting to sweat immediately. He hadn’t done anything. He skimmed his thumb along the back of it. “It’s...” she swallowed thickly avoiding his gaze. “It’s so nice, Harry,” she whispered.

“Then why—”

“I just...don’t want to fall for you,” she explained.

He dropped her hand like it hurt her. She ached to hold his hand again. It was so unfair. “Oh.”

The silence was deafening. “I understand if you don’t want me to tutor you,” she bit the inside of her lip.

“Kitten, you’re literally m’only hope,” he reminded her. “If y’don’t want to, though...s’fine. I’ll figure it out. M’not your responsibility. I can always go on YouTube—”

She shook her head. “No,” she swallowed. “That’s not what I want,” she promised. “Really—”

“Love,” he brought a hand to her face and brushed his thumb across her lips. Her sentence was no longer in her mind. Everything was gone. She only knew Harry’s name, the color green, and that his thumb was touching her lips.

“You’re way too cool and hot and confident for me,” she whispered. All he had to do was look at her. It was like a magic spell. The words fell out of her. His cologne was surely a potion. Throwing all coherent thought out of her mind. She wasn’t an upperclassmen physics student. She was a dumb girl infatuated with a guy that was way too good for her.

“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. “I...” his unfairly tanned cheeks turned the most beautiful, rosy pink. Like someone put makeup on him. “You’re...you’re much too hard on yourself. You’re way too good for me. Gorgeous, intelligent, kind...” he shook his head. “You’re the whole package, love.” Her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest. Of course, his cologne was sending her into a fog of confusion and only thoughts of Harry. “Kitten,” he cooed. “M’not saying this jus’ because I desperately want...no need you t’fall for me...but if y’like someone...”

“Harry, those girls are the ones you deserve—” her voice cracked with the idea that Harry needed her for anything.

“M’so out of your league,” he chuckled. “Maybe y’shouldn’t fall for me,” he winked. “But...isn’t... there a basic Law of Attraction in Physics?” He asked.

“Harry, that’s from like week one of Physics I.”

“Kitten, m’trying t’flirt on your level. Will you...?” Her lips felt glued shut. “Any particular force that draw two objects together?” She nodded mutely. “Think we have a particular force here,” he caught one of his fingers through her front belt loop and pulled her toward him. Her whole body was on fire. There was a clean sink behind her. A hot chocolate bar on her counter.

And Harry was enacting a force of attraction on her that she never would have dreamed of as he tilted his head and locked his gaze on her lips.

--

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[robbieshomestuckliveblog]

Day Nineteen

02/28/25

Vriska: Get back to adventurin'. to End of Act 5 Act 1

( page 2516 to page 2625 )

Favorite Panel: Page 2592

Favorite Pesterlog: Page 2575

Favorite Flash (if applicable): Page 2577

Takeaways:

I have always been curious to how Terezi go in touch with her god tier powers.

Once again, Terezi one-ups Vriska. They are both God Tier in a sense. Vriska dies at the hand of Aradia, who was justified in her beating, then pressured Tavros while on her deathbed, who she knew wasn't mentally strong enough, to take her out of misery, bleeding out from the beating. Vriska’s ascension to GodTeir in my recollection, was messy and was not through much action of her own. Terezi through taking her time through the game, through her own will power and efforts ascends all the same as Vriska, despite lacking the flashy wings or GodTier PJ’S. Vriska gets ahead by though brute force, cheap tactics and manipulation, while Terzi gets ahead through her justice and hardwork, and this is why she will always have the upper hand.

It’s cute how Terzei and Rose have the same exile/commander! Both receive the WQ, because they are Seer’s alike! I love the connections Hussie makes through their GodTeirs, it gives us insight on Classpects aswell as the kids themselves.

They are such dorks I actually need them dead. ( /With love. )

Karkat’s use of time travel is coming in full force now! If you thought his backwards chats with John were infuriating you’ll need a new adjective to describe how frustratingly stupid it gets ( or got? Past tense, non linear story time travel bluh blah blah! ) His intent for linearity and simplicity is overruled by his self hatred, going back to berate himself in the past, in a public memo no less. I really grew fond of Karkat when he went off the handle memo wise, they're just a joy to read.

I love this memo, SO much. Nobody takes Karkat’s memo seriously so they just try to bother him for his patented Vantas quadrant advice which he can’t help but support them.

They bait him so perfectly just to keep going on more and more rants.

It’s okay guys he can reclaim it.

I wonder why Kanaya’s land glitched???? Um?? I can’t think of anything she did wrong getting into the game wise?

Okay so my guesstimation of a week for how long it took them to finish Sgrub given how many people were involved was a little silly in retrospect, it was confirmed to be 25 days! ( 600 hours )

“FCG: SO I'M KEEPING MY PRONGS CROSSED.”

I love when the trolls refer to themselves as having the animalistic traits of their Lussi, it’s just plain cute.

“FCG: IT WILL BE LIKE FUCKING 12TH PERIGEE'S EVE UP IN HERE.” Davekat parallel :3.

Karkat is genuinely so cute at the best of times. He has my favorite emoticons, they're just so silly and you can barely process them? His horns being WAY to close together along with being upside down, it's just totes adorable. c:B

Did they hook up in one way or another while playing together?? Ugh i would do anything for some good Karezi flashback filler slop. Opens AO3 I GUESS!

Terezi gets it man, he’s genuinely just SOO cute.

I wonder why after this moment Terezi gives herself the note ( via John retcon powers ) “You don't need him.” Which always kind of confused me? I never got the sense that Terezi relied on Karkat deeply or even at all, so I just don’t understand why this is a sentiment she would realistically feel the need to express. Justice for Karkat man he didn't do anything wrong.

My favorite Pesterlog!

They’re just so cute man.

I made that last note you read right before finishing the memo, and my point still stands, how is Terezi sharing hearts and telling Karkat he’s doing a good job in some fashion depending on him?? Augh i’ve just never gotten this point, this moment is so cute and i'm not gonna let Retcon shit ruin my enjoyment of it anyways, that shit barely counts as canon in my book I DON”T CARREE-UHH.

They make me sick in the best way possible. So sweet it’s rotting my brain, teeth rotting fluff.

My Favorite Panel!

[S] Make her pay.

My favorite Homestuck flash. Beautiful artsyle, aswell as great music, it drags on but in a way that makes sense, Vriska staggering to get the upper hand while bleeding out, music is intense yet sputters in pacing, idk I don’t know anything about music theory the song is just very good and fits perfectly okay. My half hearted relaying of the events won't do this flash justice, go rewatching for yourself! ( has spoilers so maybe don't just watch it for the first time out of context LOL ) The tweening is such a nice touch to the movement needed for this moment, slow yet unwavering. The drops of blood are so satisfying along with the dramatic lightning it's just perfect. The background is very detailed, painted even, they are gorgeous renditions. This most prominently is directed at the Shots of Terezi’s mom, she just looks so cool in all of her dragon glory. Terezi’s descend into the blinding rays of Alterina’s Moonlight. Her waking animation is so creative, resembles Dave’s steps in Dave: Ascend to the highest point in the building, a bit, just looks really cool. Flashforward cut to Terezi And Karkat fighting off underlings together!! Karkat’s land looks SO badass, they’re so cool :D. Cut to Gamzee just doing some juggling tricks at his underlings, what a chill guy. I enjoy the visuals of Sollux’s land aswell as their running movement being really smooth but my question is why did Feferi just freeze up and scream at the underlings? Does she not fight and was beckoning Sollux here?? Um?? Funny nonetheless. Cut to Nepeta glomping the actual shit out of Equius!! Cut to my favorite panel of Tavros ever, we can see the little indentation of his nose, his big smile and eyes omg he’s precious, man. Cut to Kanaya, not in her best dress but hey they can’t all be winners. Cut to Eridan and Sollux in a petty immature nerd battle!!!! Now we cut back to Vriska and Tavros in LOMAT, the music stops in pace, amping up. All of Vriska’s flying animation aswell as sprite animation looks really cool here. AradiaBot’s illustration in this is BREATHTAKING. She looks alien for lack of a better word, cold and inhumane, like a bug of sorts. She also has her time traveling machine that follows the motif of those in her aspect, being Music related! All Vriska wanted out of Aradia was a reaction. She pestered and bugged and fussed just to get Aradia to react to get angry, and boy did she get angry. The music reeling back as she sees a mystified Tavros, she relents her beating and disappears once again.

AradiaBot responding to Diamonds Droog by manipulating Vriska’s blood to form letters is so fucking cool man.

My favorite Panel!

MY SHAAYYLAAASSS. Is this a dumb pick for my FAVORITE panel? Objectively yes but also I don’t care.

Another great example of Hussie’s cool as shit geometric sharp artstyle.

Aradia’s dramatic storytelling of this moment must have been so hype back in the day. Imagine being the creators of [S] Rex Duodecim Angelus, having to piece this story cohesively to the song, imagine being the song writers, assigning each character a sound motif, deciding what characters to pair up in battle, this moment is just so special to me. The trolls are a bunch of champs for one putting up with ALternia and being better than it surpassing the shitty expectations set up for them aswell as everyone doing their part to beat the game, everyone fighting using their best efforts.

Karkat’s fucked up to hell posture, his tiny mouth and his soon to be classic bug eyes. ( Also bg Vriska ans Terezi look ADORABLE ) He’s the cutest character in all of Homestuck! fight me. >:]

Such a pretty and complex panel.

The bots are so cool man, are you kidding me? Look at her, unborthered nonchalant ass queen.

Lol gif compression made Sollux’s shirt peach. Also I wonder why Hussie made every image a gif? I have a bunch of theories but I don't wanna dive head first into nerdy art program shit so..

One of my favorite Homestuck panels ever. It’s so simple yet so strong.

Do the blue curtains set the stage for John? Hmmm!

[tasteleeknow]

pairing: minho x virgin!reader genre: smut, angst, fluff. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 6.3k requested by: anon

summary: you’re insecure, both about being inexperienced and about revealing your body to him fully. minho asks if he can show you how much he likes you. a sickly sweet, body worship, virgin!reader smut.

afab!reader. virgin!reader. profanity. protected intercourse [oral (f.rec), squirting, grinding, nipple licking]. body insecurity [no mention of body weight]. body worship. pet names.

“Would you like one?” you ask, offering Minho one of the red lollipops you kept stashed in your bag. It was a desperate attempt to distract from the lull in conversation. Not exactly an awkward silence, but enough to make you nervous. You’d spent so much time with him, you shouldn’t be this nervous. It was just that you liked him. A lot. You liked him so much you had struggled to sleep at all the night before, up late with a cocktail of nerves and butterflies swirling around your stomach. 

He takes the lollipop from you, his fingers brushing against yours—one of the only times you’d touched him. Your chest tightens a little at the thought. You wanted to touch him more, very much. It was the idea of him touching you back that had your anxiety flaring up. 

“Why do you always carry these around?” he asks before popping the candy in his mouth. You watch him swirl his tongue around, pushing the red lollipop in and out of his mouth a few times before he lets go of the little white stick—freeing you to answer his question. 

“Oh, I—I don’t know. I just got in the habit at some point, I guess. I don’t eat them very often but…I think I just find it comforting to have them.” He pushes the candy into his cheek. “I know that’s silly,” you add.

“Nah,” he says, pulling the lollipop from his mouth and gesturing at your surroundings with it. “I think they’re the perfect complement to a scene like this.” 

You look out over the ocean, the horizon a bright orange as the sun disappears over the curve of the earth. This was the third time you’d watched the sunset with him this week. You’d lost count of how many dates you’d been on total. Your best friend had assured you he was definitely into you. “How could you go on so many dates with someone and not be into them?” she’d said. You weren’t convinced. He hadn’t kissed you. He hadn’t even tried. You wondered if he just enjoyed your company, if he wasn’t attracted to you at all but was too kind to break it off. 

You had no doubt he knew you were attracted to him. You were incapable of subtly, not when it came to him anyway. “Are you free tomorrow?” he asks, legs swinging over the ledge you both sit on. 

“Mm, I think so.” 

“So you can be out late?”

“Is there something else you wanted to do?”

“I made a pudding,” he says, looking a little nervous. You’d never seen him nervous before. Not visibly, anyway. “I thought maybe you’d like to come to mine and try it.”

You brain blanks. You’d never been to his place before, nor him yours. Words. Words are good. You definitely should say some words. “I—I mean—” 

“It’s alright, no pressure,” he says, picking himself up—leaving you sitting on the ledge alone. You jump up, turning to grab his arm—wobbling a little as you lose your footing. He looks down at where your fingers grasp his forearm tightly. You drop it quickly, cheeks warming. 

“I want to,” you blurt out. “I mean… I like pudding.” 

One corner of his mouth curves up into a small smile, the lollipop pushed into his cheek. You want to poke the little bump. He reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You hold your breath. “It’s vanilla. Come on then,” he says, pulling you towards where he’d parked his car. 

You lean forward on the couch to accept the coffee mug Minho offers you. “I uh, didn’t really have anything else to put them in,” he says, placing his own mug of pudding on the coffee table in front of you. You inspect the pudding as he returns to the kitchen. It was nearly to the lip of the mug. “Here,” he says, having returned with two spoons. 

He settles himself into the lounge beside you and then grabs the remote, pressing play on the movie you’d chosen. You take a small spoonful, checking Minho’s attention is on the screen before wrapping your lips around it. It’s smooth and sweet and better than any pudding you’ve had before. 

“You made this?” you ask, pulling his attention from the opening credits. 

“Mm, is it alright?” 

“It’s amazing.” 

He smiles, falling back into the cushions. “Good.” 

“Do you think you could teach me? Or you could just give me the recipe? I mean—you don’t have to. I just—”

He rests his hand on your thigh, halting your verbal vomit. “Sure, I can teach you.” 

“Thank you.” You dig out a much bigger spoonful, waiting for him to pull his hand away. He doesn’t, looking back to the movie—his pudding abandoned on the coffee table. When you’d first sat down on his couch, your summer shorts riding up your thighs had made you regret them instantly—grabbing a cushion to hold in your lap. Now? Now you didn’t regret them quite as much, enjoying his casual touch.

You get about half way through the mug before feeling like you’ve had as much as you can fit in, still full from dinner. You lean forward to place the mug gently on the table, his hand finally pulling away from your thigh at your movement. He grabs his own pudding, devouring it at an impressive rate. 

You hadn’t really been paying attention to the movie at all, focused entirely on the man next to you. Everytime he readjusts himself, fidgets, drinks from his large water bottle, you’re hyper aware of it. When you tap on his arm lightly to ask where the bathroom is, he leans close—as if you aren’t the only two ppl in the room. 

The mugs clink together behind you as you leave the room, Minho taking the chance to clean up while the movie is paused. His bathroom has a full length mirror, a little odd in such a small place. It catches you a little off guard. You usually avoided them. Your mascara is a little smudged. You sigh, turning to grab a piece of toilet paper and wipe under your eyes. 

When you’ve cleaned it up as best as you can you suck in a deep breath, suddenly feeling like you want to run. Run to the front door and away from the man you’d developed overwhelming feelings for, feelings that frankly scared you. 

He’d touched you more tonight than he had in the few months you’d known him. You’d met through a friend, seeing him occasionally at group gatherings. He made you feel seen, making an effort to ask you how you were every time you saw him. He even remembered the little things you mentioned about yourself. He heard you and he cared enough to remember. You weren’t aware you were going on dates until the fourth time you spent time alone. 

You’d gone indoor rock-climbing and after managing only half the kids' wall he’d confessed it was a bad idea for a date. He’d heard you mention it was something you’d always wanted to try and decided to give it ago, despite his fear of heights. You’d been so distracted by the word ‘date’ you hadn’t noticed his ears turning a bright red. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, having ended the session early. “Do you want to come to the beach with me instead?” you’d replied, instigating your first ever sunset date. 

You take a step back from the mirror, turning side to side to inspect your body. All his casual touches were leading up to something, and you wanted so badly to be the type of person who could lean into it—to show him how much you wanted him. You think about all the people you’d pushed away, unable to overcome your insecurities enough to be vulnerable with them in that way. 

You didn’t know how to bring it up to him, that you hadn’t done this before. You were so amazed someone like him could be interested in you at all, revealing something like that could scare him off. You lift your shirt to touch your stomach. Even if he wasn’t scared off, you might make the experience so terrible he’d never try again. You had no idea what the fuck you were doing. 

You lean over the sink, wetting your hands and pressing the cold water to your neck. The things you want in life could sometimes be found outside your comfort zone. Or something. Your best friend had given you a pep talk a few days ago when you’d been unable to keep in all your anxieties. You huff out a small laugh, amused one of her rambling inspirational speeches actually stuck in your mind a little.

When you reemerge the balcony door is wide open, Minho leans against the railing—looking out at the city lights. You take one final deep breath then follow him out, deciding to be brave and placing one of your hands gently over his. He looks down at your hands, then to you. When he pulls his hand away your heart drops. Then he turns to face you, placing his hand at your waist. All your concentration goes into keeping your breathing even. You imagine a little crew in your brain, panicking and sending all resources to maintain an outward appearance of calm. You hope it’s working. 

He pulls you a little closer, his eyes dropping to your mouth before looking up again. “Did you really like my pudding or were you just being nice?”

Not what you were expecting. You blink a few times as you attempt to regather your thoughts. “I liked it, really. It was the nicest pudding I've ever had. I really would like you to teach me how you made it.” 

“So sweet,” he mutters, mouth curving into one of his little half smiles. You drop your eyes to his chest, totally unprepared to deal with a comment like that. It doesn’t stop him from continuing. “Do you know how sweet you are? What it does to me? Drives me fucking crazy.” 

You can’t help looking up at his eyes, a little shocked by his language. He was always so soft around you, including his language. “Like that,” he continues. “Your eyes right now, all wide and innocent. I’ve tried…to wait for you to show me you’re ready. That you want me. Then you showed up today in those little shorts, smiling at me like the fucking sun.” His hand at your waist moves up and down, a gentle caress. “Can I have you? Please? Tell me I can have you.” 

You know you’ve failed at keeping a calm outward appearance, your chest rises and falls erratically. You lift your hands to your cheeks, they’re burning. He drops his hand from your waist, both his hands wrapping around your wrists to pull your hands from your face gently. 

“Please,” he breathes. 

Good things are outside your comfort zone, you repeat in your head. If this worked out you were going to buy your friend a car full of her favourite snacks… and a puppy. A million puppies. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his. He keeps his hold on your wrists, holding your arms up on each side of you. It isn’t until you pull away that he drops them, wrapping both arms around you to pull you tightly against him. He resumes the kiss you’d started. His lips are pillowy against yours. He tastes like the pudding he’d devoured. You wrap your arms around his neck and he turns you, pushing you back until you’re pressed into the wall. 

By the time he pulls his lips from yours you’re practically panting, attempting to catch your breath. Each of his arms frame your head against the wall. “Was that a yes?” he says, breath equally uneven. 

You’re confused for a second, completely lost. Yes?… oh. Can I have you? You drop your eyes to his chest again. Was this the right moment to tell him? You imagined him backing away, trying to find the words to tell you he wasn’t into you enough to deal with the baggage. 

“I—It’s just…”

He drops his hands from the wall, taking a small step back. He looks vulnerable, but he’s quiet—waiting for you to finish. 

“I’ve never really done this before. I don’t want you to sign up for this—for me—and then back out. I don’t think I can handle it,” you finish, sucking in a deep shaky breath. 

“Why would I back out?” 

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never been in a real relationship, I’ve never liked someone like this, I’ve never—” you pause, all the courage draining from your body. He takes a small step towards you again. 

“Never…?” 

“Slept with anyone.” 

He presses one hand to the wall again, the other brushing your hair over your shoulder. “I’m not asking to fuck you, I’m asking you to be mine. You tell me if you ever want to give the rest a try, and I’m here.” His palm moves up to cup your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. 

“But I do,” you whisper back. You’re not sure why you’re both being quiet. There’s no one to overhear. You’re grateful for it anyway, the words are easier to get out in hushed tones. “I do want to, I really, really want to.” 

He smiles, then presses his lips to yours softly. “Really, really?,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice taking on a teasing tone you were very used to at this point. 

“Are you sure you want me? In that way…”

“I really, really want you. I want you if you want to stay here with me tonight and let me show you how good I can make you feel…and I want you if you want to wait. I just want you, whichever way you’ll let me have you.” 

“Why?” 

“I spend any free day I have with you.” He takes one of your hands and presses it to his chest, over his heart. “You make me feel steady. You make my life feel bright, and warm…and hopeful…” He presses his forehead to yours. You close your eyes. “I want to make yours warm too. I want to give you what you give me. Let me,” he finishes.

His lips hover over yours, brushing them so lightly it tickles. You press forward suddenly, pushing into him hard. He stumbles back a step, huffing a laugh into your mouth and wrapping his arms around you. 

You’d spent months with him, hearing all his worries and hopes and dreams. He made you nervous and giddy and now finally… hopeful. Hopeful that he might want you back the same way. His hand slips under the hem of your shirt, thumb brushing against your skin. You crash back down, remembering why you hadn’t had this before. How you’d looked in the mirror minutes before. You take a big step back, his arms dropping from you. 

“S-Sorry,” you sputter out, stepping back again until your back hits the wall. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

You watch his face fall, his sad eyes making you hate yourself more. Coward. “This?” he asks, gesturing between you. “As in right now? Or this as in us in general?”

“General. In general. I’m just not—I’m not right.”

He frowns, one foot stepping towards you and then he hesitates—keeping his distance. “Not right?” he asks, brows furrowed in confusion. You sigh, suddenly exhausted. He rocks forward a little, like he’s deciding whether to stay away, and then steps towards you slowly. “What do you mean ‘not right’?” he asks again.

Your eyes trail up his body as he steps closer. When he stops, directly in front of you again, you lift one finger to trace down his face. “Do you know how lovely you are? How beautiful? In every way,” you whisper.

He lifts his hand to take your wrist. “What do you mean by ‘not right’?” he repeats. 

“For you.” 

“Shouldn’t I decide that for myself? I choose you. I want you. You’re everything.” 

“You haven’t seen me,” you blurt out, instantly regretting it. You drop your eyes to the ground. 

He’s quiet for a moment. “Fully? Is that what you mean? Without clothes?” 

You groan, more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life. He lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Can you trust me enough to believe me when I say I think you’re perfect. I’m so—” he pauses, eyes flicking across your face. “I really, really like you,” he says, lips curving a little. “Let me show you how much? Just say stop whenever you need. I just want to show you how beautiful you are, hm?”

“You’re…you’re sure?”

“Really, really sure.” He offers you a small reassuring smile. 

You’re quiet for a moment, considering if you really were brave enough for this. Then you look up at him, patiently waiting for you. You reach down to take his hand, pulling him with you as you re enter his apartment. You lead him past his bathroom, to the closed door you’d seen earlier. It had to be his bedroom. You stop with your hand on the door knob, looking up at him for permission. He presses his hand over yours, pressing the handle down and pushing the door open. Then he takes the lead, pulling you slowly into the room. 

He lets go of your hand to walk around the bed and flick a small light on, filling the room with a soft light. You’re grateful he didn’t go for the ceiling light. He unbuttons the top of his shirt as he approaches you. “Will you do the rest for me?” he asks, voice low. 

You nod, beginning with the button second from the top. You’re amazed at the steadiness of your hands, especially considering the rate at which your heart is beating in your chest. You keep your eyes directly ahead of you, on each new patch of his skin you reveal as you work your way down. 

When the last button is freed, and each side of the shirt falls open to reveal his bare torso, you can’t help reaching up to press each of your palms on his chest. He’s so warm—and if you concentrate, you can feel his heart beating in his chest. You run your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, pushing the white button-down shirt off as you go. You come back to yourself as it hits the ground, pulling your hands from him quickly. 

He wraps his fingers around your wrists, preventing you from retreating completely. You look up into his eyes as he places your hands on his chest again. “It’s okay,” he says, his voice taking on a gentle tone. Even gentler than usual. “You can touch me. Wherever you like.” 

You smile, then push—hard enough for him to fall back onto the bed. A look of determination crosses his face and he reaches for you, pulling you back down with him. “Got you,” he mutters just before pressing his lips to yours. He rolls over you, pressing his body down into yours—not all his weight, just enough to feel comforting. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he says between kisses. You hum against his mouth and he pulls back just enough to speak. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you answer before pulling him back down again. You’re so consumed by him you forget all your worries for a few blissful minutes. 

It isn’t until his hand slips under the hem of your shirt again you remember why you’d been so nervous. He must notice you tense up because he halts his movements. “Want me to stop?” he asks. 

“No, just…nervous.” 

“You’re okay.” He lifts the hem of your shirt slowly, keeping his eyes on your face. “I’ve got you.”

Your eyes flick to his pouty upper lip. You think about all the times you’d thought how much you loved it, how this small feature on his face was a part of him you adored so much. Surely, others must have those thoughts about you. It wasn’t impossible, anyway. You wonder if Minho did. 

He pulls your shirt over your head and you squeeze your eyes shut. It didn’t make sense. Closing your eyes didn’t stop him seeing you. You supposed it did stop you seeing his reaction. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he whispers, his breath tickling your lips. “Look at me,” he encourages. 

You peek one eye open. He looks down at you, eyes a little hooded. “Good girl,” he says, kissing you softly. He presses small kisses across your cheek, down to your neck. He speaks in between. “Remember what I said earlier? How sweet you are?” 

You breath hitches as he sucks gently on a sensitive patch of skin just above your clavicles. You picture his pillowy lips on your skin, the pouty upper lip you love so much. 

“You’re sweet inside and out, aren’t you honey? Hm? So fucking sweet,” He keeps muttering as his kisses move down to your breasts, his soft lips pressing to the skin peaking out from your bra. An embarrassing noise escapes your throat. He looks up at you. “What was that? Did you make a sweet little noise for me?”

“Min?” 

“Hm?” 

“Should I take this off?” you ask, fiddling with the bra strap over your shoulder. 

“Whatever you want. Do you want it off?” 

“I—I think so.” 

He lifts himself off you and you sit up to watch him move up the bed to adjust himself against his pillows, patting his lap. “Come here, I'll help you.” 

You crawl up the bed, feeling a little awkward as you climb into his lap. You wrap your arms around your stomach. He presses his face to your neck, humming against your skin. Knowing he couldn’t see you, you relax a little—moving your arms from your waist to wrap around his neck. His fingers fiddle with the clasp at your back, not rushing to remove it once he’d succeeded in undoing each one. He lets go, letting the bra fall apart—the straps falling down your shoulders a little. He keeps his face buried in your shoulder, running his hands up and down your back gently. 

“Doing so well,” he murmurs into your skin. A little shiver runs up your spine. 

You pull back, attaching your mouth to his quickly—distracting him with your lips as you slip the bra down your arms and drop it onto the bed next to you. He pulls you against him. A few hours ago a brush of his fingers was enough to make your chest tighten, and now you’re half naked—bare chests pressed tightly together, his soft lips attached to yours. A short wave of dizziness passes over you at the realisation, pulling away from him slightly. 

“Will you lie down for me?” Minho says, his voice a little breathy. 

You nod, climbing off him so you can lay back against the pillows next to him. You hold your breath, scrutinising his face for any flicker of disappointment as his eyes scan over your bare chest for the first time. He climbs over you and falls forward, attaching his lips to the skin between your breasts—offering you no warning. You grip the sheets next to you, overwhelmed as he begins kissing a trail towards your nipple. 

You can’t help gasping as he sucks it into his mouth, wet tongue playing with you much like he had your red lollipop. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him to you—too overwhelmed to feel shy about it. He groans, the vibrations against your wet nipple triggering a whine to slip from your throat. 

By the time he’s given the same treatment to the other, you’re not even trying to hold back the small sounds you’re making—whining and moaning his name. Your eyes are hardly open when he moves up to kiss you, his lips wet against yours. You hardly move, letting him press sloppy kisses over your mouth. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs between kisses, drawing a whimper out. “Gonna make you feel good.”

“Min—Minho…”

“Mm? What is it, sweetheart?” 

“You really—You really think so?”

He presses one last kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Think what?” he whispers, pulling back so he can see your face—a knowing smirk on his lips. 

“What you said.” 

“What did I say?” 

“That I'm…” you trail off, unable to get the word out. 

“Say it,” he encourages, brushing his thumb over your lips. Your eyes drop to his lips, wet and swollen. 

“Perfect,” you whisper, barely audible. 

“So fucking sweet,” he groans, trailing kissing from your lips down to your stomach. When he reaches the hem of your shorts he looks back up at you. “Okay?” he asks, fingers playing with the zip. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, throwing your head back as he slowly pulls the small zipper down and works them gradually down your thighs. You squeeze your eyes shut as he pulls them off your legs and settles himself between your thighs, pushing them apart gently. 

“Open your eyes, hm?” he says, the tone of his voice increasingly sweet the more clothes he removes from your body. “It’s okay,” he soothes, his palms massaging over your thighs. “So soft… perfect. You’re fucking perfect, yeah?”

You suck in a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of his warm hands so close to your centre. “Yeah?” he repeats, clearly seeking a response. 

“Yeah,” you whimper, fingers tangling in the sheets at your side. When his finger brushes lightly over your cunt—cotton underwear the only barrier between you—your back arches off the bed. 

“So sensitive for me…gonna get so you fucking needy, mm?” he mutters, still in his sickly sweet tone—fingers brushing your skin at the edges of your underwear. You fail at keeping your eyes open, squeezing them shut as you twitch and squirm at his teasing touches. He continues muttering small praises, dragging it out until you’re desperate for him to touch you properly. 

Your two minds battle, one desperately wanting to feel his fingers on you, the other embarrassed by the idea of him seeing you like that—seeing that part of you. You take in the situation you're in, how far you’ve come. You’re nearly entirely bare, laid back on his bed—nipples wet from his kisses. You suck in a deep breath. “Min?” 

He huffs out a small laugh. “Mm, baby?” 

“Can you…take them off, please?” 

He crawls up your body, his face hovering over you—forcing you to look into his eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, mouth opening as he sucks in a breath, then closing again. Whatever it is, he decides against it—pressing a kiss to your lips so gentle a shiver ripples down your body. 

He shuffles back down. You hold your breath, expecting him to pull your underwear down with the same slow patience he did with your shorts. He doesn’t. He hooks his fingers over the hem, pulling them down quickly—without any hesitation at all. You have no time to feel shy, brain blanking as he attaches his mouth directly to your cunt. He hums against you,  muttering something you can’t make out. 

“Feel—”

He lifts his head, looking up at you—his hair flops into his eyes. “Mm?”

“Feels nice,” you whine. “Thank—Thank you.” 

He licks his lips, then smiles. “You’re thanking me for licking your sweet little cunt?” he asks sweetly. 

You cover your face with your hands, unable to look him in the eyes. Then his mouth is on you again, catching you off guard. Your hips rise up involuntarily off the bed, grinding up into his face. “Knew you would be the sweetest fucking thing, hm? Thanking me for tasting you…” He presses your hips into the bed, holding you down so he can keep his mouth on you—wet, messy noises filling the room again. 

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, overwhelmed by the filthiness of it all. A few hours ago you’d been fixated on his tongue circling a lollipop, and now he was pressing the same tongue into your throbbing cunt. The thought of it pushes you over the edge, Minho’s hands pushing you harder into the mattress as you squirm—riding out your high. You whimper when it’s too much, Minho pulling his head from between your legs when you fall limp against his sheets. 

You’re vaguely aware of wet kisses trailing up your body, staring at the ceiling as you wait for your mind to return from wherever it just flew off to. Then Minho’s messy face appears above you, his lips drenched from completing his mission successfully. “You want more or have you had enough?” he asks, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. 

“More?”

He smiles. “Mm, you’ve tried my mouth. Do you want to try my cock?” 

You blink, shocked at his language—still totally unused to hearing him speak this way. “Okay,” you whisper. 

“Say stop whenever,” he reminds you, climbing off the bed and wandering off somewhere. You’re too fucked out to care, sucking in a deep breath and turning to look out his open window. The sky is clear, offering you a perfect view of the moon. It looks like it might be a full moon. You’d watched the sun disappear at the start of the night, and now the moon watched you. 

Minho returns, resuming his position between your legs. “Would you like to help me?” he asks, offering you a small square of foil. You lift yourself to your elbows and then Minho leans forward to wrap his arms around you to help you sit up fully. You take the small square from him carefully. 

“I don’t… know how.” 

“Would you like me to help you or do you just wanna watch?” 

“Watch,” you answer, holding the wrapped condom back out to him. “Hold it for me for a sec?” he says, climbing off the end of the bed. He stands then turns and beckons you forward. “Come here,” he says, patting the end of the mattress. 

You crawl towards him, tucking your legs under you to sit at the edge. You keep your eyes on his fingers as he undoes the buckle on his belt, then pulls it through his belt loops in one smooth movement. “Do you want to take them off for me?” he asks, gently taking the condom from your fingers. 

You nod, reaching forward to zip his fly down—still avoiding looking at his face. You pause when it’s down fully, unsure if you should just tug them down. His hands cover yours, guiding you up to his waistband. “You can take both off at once,” he says, leaving you a little confused before you realise he means his underwear. Oh god. You can do this. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his underwear at each hip, your fingers brushing his skin. 

You tug, dealing with a little resistance until they're over the curve of his ass. You suck in a little breath as his cock is freed, directly in front of your face. It curves up towards his stomach and you absentmindedly let go of his pants, distracted. It bounces a little as he steps out of his clothes and then his hand wraps around it. You look up. His eyes are fixed on your face, eyes hooded. 

“Watch,” he breathes. Your eyes drop down again, watching as he rolls the condom down his length. Your eyes flick between his twitching cock and the prominent veins in his hand. You're still throbbing between your legs. You can’t tell if it’s residual from your high, or you’ve just never come down—building back up to another. 

“All good, sweetheart?” he asks, gripping himself at his base. You pull your eyes back up to his face again. 

“Good,” you whisper. 

He walks around the bed, your eyes track him as he moves. When he’s laying on his side against the pillows he pats the bed. You crawl up to him, unsure where he wants you. “Face the window,” he says. 

You lie down against the pillow, his back to you. The moon still watches. His arm wraps around you and then you feel his breath on your neck. “Got your sweet cunt all wet…” he breathes into our skin. “Now gotta do the same for my cock.” His lips are pressed to your skin as his fingers begin caressing your thigh. 

“How?” you whisper. 

He pressed his back firmly against yours. “Like this,” he says just as his cock spreads through your folds. You gasp, hand reaching back to grasp his arm. He pauses, cock resting up against you. 

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me what feels good,” he says, pressing another kiss to the skin behind your ear. 

“Ev—everything.” 

He rolls his hips. “This?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

“Talk to me,” he encourages. 

“Feel good… your…. you feel good against me.”

“Against you where?” he says sweetly, continuing his grinding. 

“Min,” you gasp. 

“Where, sweetheart?” 

“Pussy. My pussy.” 

One of his hands comes around you to grasp one of your breasts, his movements against you a little harder. He groans, muttering into your ear with each thrust. “So sweet…wet…mine…” His cock brushes your clit with each roll of his hips, working in combination with the words he pants in your ear to wipe your mind clear. His words and his body against yours. That’s it. Your entire world.

You feel it building again. You’ve never come twice this close together before. You feel like you never came down properly, now just building on top of your last. Your hips stutter, pushing back against him hard—a flood of wetness coats your thighs. You gasp, the first feeling that filters back into your head is confusion, then embarrassment. 

“Oh, god. God. Sorry—I’m—I’m sorry. I’m—”

“Shh, baby. You’re perfect,” he groans, hips still grinding into you. “A fucking dream,” he groans and then he’s over you, pressing his lips against yours hard. “You squirted, sweetheart.” His voice is the sweetest you’ve heard all night, heard ever. It seemed like the dirtier the words that left his swollen lips, the sweeter the tone that accompanied them. “All over my fucking cock, mm?” 

He looks at you like you’d just offered him his favourite dessert. “You—are you going to…do it now?” you ask, looking down between your bodies. 

“Do what? Fill you?” he says, his pretty lips curved into a smirk. You nod. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” you say, proud of how confident your voice sounds this time. You wanted him to know. How much you really did want him. How much you’d dreamt of him like this. “Please,” you add. 

“Please?” he repeats back to you. “You can have anything. You know that? Anything I can give you,” he threads his fingers in your hair at the back of your head, holding you firmly so you can't look away. “You have no idea…” he mutters under his breath, lips ghosting over yours. 

You feel him, nudging at your entrance. You hold your breath. 

“Breathe,” he says, hot breath against your lips. “Breathe, sweetheart. Just relax, I’ve got you.” He keeps his eyes fixed on yours as he presses in slowly, then out again. You’d expected him to push in all the way, like ripping off a bandaid. You lift your head slightly to connect your lips as the tip of his cock works you open, teasing your throbbing entrance. 

“More,” you mutter into his mouth. He obeys, pressing a little further inside. A small sound escapes your throat, signalling a little twinge of discomfort. He pulls back, stilling for a moment until you nod then begins working into you gradually again. He distracts you with his lips, with his hands on your tits, with sweet words against your lips. Then you’re full. He’s still as you adjust to the feeling of it. He was… inside you. 

You’d been so convinced for months that someone like him could never want you in this way, and now he was inside you. “Min?” you whisper against his lips. 

“Mm?” 

“I like you a lot.” 

You can feel his mouth curve against yours. “Very, very much?”  

Warmth fills your chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Very, very, very much.” 

“I like you more,” he says, hips grinding against you a little. 

You're lost in his kisses as he works himself up, increasing his pace a little as you adjust to the feeling of him filling you. Then he starts moaning. The small sounds that slip from his lips into your mouth make you wish you’d been brave earlier—that you could get back all the time you’d wasted being afraid. He was worth being brave. 

“You’re so good to me,” you whisper against his lips, drawing another pretty moan out of him. “I’ve always thought you were so lovely, ever since we first met. You were so kind and thoughtful…and beautiful.” 

“Sweetest…” he mutters between moans, “...the fucking sweetest.” 

“Will you come for me, Min? Please?”

He drops his head to your neck, hips stuttering into you. You wrap your arms around him, stroking his back in gentle circles as he moves against you a little more. Then he stills completely. His weight against your body reminds you of the weighted blanket you used to soothe your anxiety at night. You turn your head as he pants in your neck, the moon still bright and clear in the sky.  

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