#asks like this genuinely bum me out cause you’re asking me to take up less space and saying you won’t share my work

[foldingfittedsheets]

Hey I love your comics!! But can you please use a read more on them? Scrolling endlessly past them a dozen times on my dash isn’t the vibe, and I’m reluctant to reblogged because the posts are so long. Excited to see what else you’ve got coming in the future!!

Sorry, but no. I’ve tried using read mores and the fact is that the engagement is substantially lower than leaving them out. Both Leda and Seventh Score got a fraction of the love both the witch and werewolf comics got.

You do have some options, though. Mobile allows you to turn on a thing that automatically shortens long posts, and all my comics are tagged “do you love the color of the comic” so that you can have them be hidden by default.

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers as Roommates

Intro:

So, the MC has left the Devildom and, of course, everybody is quite sad… But this time around, they have a little trick up their sleeve. With just a bit of magic (and training thanks to Solomon) the MC can now summon one of their favorite demon boys up to the human world with them! There's just, uh, one problem though… After being summoned to their side, their beloved demon now refuses to leave it.

Alright MC, enjoy your new demonic roommate!!

Lucifer

Apparently Lucifer is on sabbatical… And yes, he does appreciate that irony in that.

Lucifer actually has a surprising amount of human world money stashed away in alias accounts (because this man renting a cheap motel on business trips? Let's be real) so he uses that wealth to get them a place befitting his standards… which are high.

Spacious apartments in nice areas that would make even the upper middle-class shit their pants? Congrats, MC, that's where you're staying now!

Even with all that money, though, Lucifer CANNOT sit idle for a second. The guy is used to working all his life and just sitting around would drive him insane!

Expect him to still be running some Devildom affairs long-distance style while doing something else on the side, probably stock market stuff tbh.

Is going to want to pay for and provide everything himself but will respect the MC if they still want to work and split the bills (not to a ridiculous degree, though, like half-and-half because that would mean getting three jobs at least).

A lot of trips and vacations too, especially if the MC likes to travel. It’s a good excuse to relax while also technically doing something so he doesn’t lose his mind doing nothing in particular.

He is going to be that strict roommate who expects you not to be a slob and isn't afraid to say so. Regularly scheduled cleaning/organization days are mandatory because hygiene is important. Take some pride in yourself and wash up, MC. That kind of thing.

Also going to have short-fuse for… antics. If you want to prank him, do so at your own risk because he may prank back (and that’s not nearly as fun as it sounds, trust me.)

Mammon

Yeah so, living with Mammon is like the inverse of Lucifer. Prepare to be poooor.

Man has no human money, are you kidding me? Even if he did, he wouldn’t keep it for very long. Couples budgeting is a MUST if you’re looking to survive.

The apartment is going to be whatever the MC can more or less afford on their own with Mammon shoved in somewhere like a cheap lamp… Don’t expect a lot of room.

However, Mammon is great at the hustle. Man can work multiple jobs and actually be pretty dang good at them. For the most part, anyway. He may occasionally trip up and get himself fired, but he bounces back quick.

If the MC isn’t so moral he can also uh… “find” some extra money lying around too. Just be careful when playing with fire, right?

Even if they’re poor as shit, Mammon is still a blast to be around. The guy knows how to have fun on and off of a budget. Lots of “window shopping” (getting kicked out of stores for goofing off), nightclubs, amusement parks, and cheap fun. They’ll never be without a story to tell or a smile on their face!

He IS pretty slobbish though. He’s not going to remember to clean up after himself unless told, but he’s also not going to be bothered if they don’t do the same thing. A weekly cleaning day is going to be ideal unless they don’t mind living in a pigsty...

Prank waaaaars!! The kind of guy to get them both water guns and have a war in the middle of the apartment complex. Good luck getting any rest with Mammon around.

Leviathan 

Whelp, your room is now his room, quite literally MC. You had to pick the shut-in…

The guy isn’t exactly poor but what human money he does have is all wrapped up in his many interests… Merch interests specifically. 

Thankfully, he won’t take up too much space. Put him in a room with a desk, bed (or bathtub), TV, and computer and he’s good to go! 

He’s not going to be a complete bum, thankfully. There’s no way that they can get him to leave the apartment, but he can run small online stores (usually anime themed) or become a streamer. Probably enough to help pay the bills, but not much more.

If they don’t mind having a literally permanent housemate, then being with Levi has its own kind fun. Lots of anime marathons, movie nights, and game nights. Really, it’s just like how he was in the House, but now transported to the human world.

Is probably going to want a pet goldfish, snake ,or lizard so prepare to house Henry 3.0.

When he does leave the apartment, it’s to take the MC to conventions, concerts, or anime stores. He always manages to get just enough money for these trips, but never says where the money comes from… Best not to ask. Could be black market for they know...

… He’s a shut-in. He’s a shut-in roommate. Hygiene isn’t exactly his main concern. If they ask him to, he’ll make sure to clean up after himself, but he may need a reminder.

Can have a fun side, but just don’t mess with his stuff too much. He doesn’t need a Mammon 2.0 around too...

Satan

He's either hatching a plan for world domination or adopting 10 cats… One or the other.

About as poor as Mammon at first, but threat not. He won’t be for very long. Satan is intelligent beyond his years (or equivalent his years maybe?) so he’ll probably net himself several degrees within a couple semesters like a certified prodigy.

At that point, there really isn’t much to worry about (aside from student loans, join our pain Satan) but he can sell himself just fine and probably get some high paying job like a lawyer or doctor or whatever… I’m not jealous…

They’ll start out in a pretty modest place, but there will be upgrades fairly quickly when he starts racking it in so Satan’s a fairly decent choice as a roommate.

He does still have that nasty habit of breaking things when he’s pissed off, but that can be subverted by getting a pet! Just hold up whatever cat you own when he’s about to rampage then declare that he’s scaring/upsetting them and he’ll stop in his tracks. Works every time!

Probably going to be the most domestic out of the brothers. He enjoys cooking (and ain’t half bad at it either), shopping is a practical necessity, he’ll take care your pets like they were his own flesh and blood, etc.

There will even to be points where he’s in bed reading in the middle of the night with tea and reading glasses like some kind of grandma so take that image for what you will.

Satan is the prankster of the household, but he does his pranks more as a way to give grief to his enemies rather than for funsies. Be warned, if you poke this bear he will retaliate for sweet, sweet revenge and he has centuries worth of pranks behind him. Good luck.

Asmodeus 

It's a new party every night, sweetie, get used to it!

Asmo is the only other brother who has some amount of money to offer from his own trips to the human world, but it's just a modest amount.

Is totally willing to work to help pay for a nice place. He wants a building nice enough to host parties!

Would go back to modeling and maybe dip his toe into acting from time to time… He gets a lot of gigs (this IS the Avatar of Lust after all) so they won't be strapped for cash. Which is good, because Asmo is a very "business by day, but party every night" kind of person. 

Do know that his shopping is NOT going to slow down either. Keep an eye on the budget.

He’s also going to make friends wherever he goes so he’s going to want for them all to hang out at least somewhat regularly.

That being said, he can tone it down some if the MC so desires, just know that they can’t keep him cooped up in the apartment for too long or he’ll start getting antsy. You can’t keep this stallion locked up, MC, he needs to run free!!

Being with Asmo is going to be like having a free pass to whatever gathering the MC wants to go to, at least. He could even get them into red carpet events with just his sheer charisma, charm, and er-… “charms.” Who doesn’t want to meet their favorite actress or singer, eh?

But oh, sweetie, please don’t prank him! Life is too short to waste on silly games (he also just genuinely just doesn’t enjoy being messed with so best not do it).

Beelzebub 

Brave choice, MC, but quick question. How in the world are you going to pay your food bills???

Beel is a real sweetheart through and through but his stomach is NOT. That thing will eat them out of house and home! (Maybe even literally!!) Both of them are going to have to work and probably some pretty looong hours (cause he’s got no money either).

Honestly, Beel would be best as a personal trainer in the human world. He’s a pretty decent combination of tough but genuinely kind and motivating. (The fact that he’s pretty easy on the eyes would help out a lot too).

But the MC won’t have to worry about Beel sneaking off with someone just looking for some “quality time.” He’d take his job seriously, though he’s not particularly versed in what the human body can’t handle so only the really dedicated (or masochistic) would stick with him anyway.

“Good work last week, April! You did so well that we’re going to go from 500 pushups to a thousand! … I can see you’re worried, but I believe in you.”

But hey, he can deadlift well over 2,000 pounds without breaking a sweat so who has the balls to argue with him, anyway?

Trying out every restaurant in town would be a must. He’d even plan out vacations for them with the sole purpose of travelling the globe and tasting the different flavors. Food trips!!

He's neat enough since he used to tidy up a lot for Belphie so no need to worry about him picking up after himself (except for the occasional pile of wrappers. Toss those out unless you want ants)

I mean, you can prank Beel if you want. He'll be pretty good-natured about it as long as it stays harmless. Just don't ruin any of his food, got it?

Belphegor 

So… Belphie makes for some excellent décor! Really he is great at laying around and looking fantastic just… he’s not that great at much else...

Realistically, choosing Belphie as a roommate is kind like having a high maintenance pet. He’s good for love and cuddles, but he’s not going to be helping with the bills or anything unless they whine incessantly about it.

If the MC can make enough for the both of them, then it should be fine. They won’t get upset and he won’t be crabby but if not… Oh boy.

Regular job Belphie is a needy Belphie. He’ll come back from whatever job he’s working, likely a night shift, and demand attention or cuddles right then and there. He needs to recharge those batteries, after all...

If he isn’t working then he's at his happiest. He can even pull off being a “househusband” of sorts. He’s not going to go above and beyond the call of duty, but he can keep the place clean, get a basic meal on the table (provided someone teaches him some human recipes), and get groceries if he needs to… You know, basic domestic shit.

They’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that, at some level, Belphie just doesn’t believe in “common curtesy” or “human decency.” If some neighbors are being too noisy for his liking, he will troll them to oblivion and beyond. He may even get sued for it if he takes it too far, so the MC will have to keep an eye on him…

He’s the House’s #2 prankster, but unlike Satan he doesn’t need any malice to be a little shit. The MC will be pranked and it will be at the most unexpected times. Be warned...

Check out my Masterlist for more!

[thetargaryenbride]

A Way of Mourning

Requested by:  @iamhowieson​ Hey! I was wondering if you could make a Levi x reader request where Levi accidentally hurts the reader and he feels terrible about it but the reader comforts him and tells him they’re ok. 

Thank you for requesting! <3 And I’m sorry for the delay. 

Words: 2K+

Pairing: Levi x Reader [gn]

Hope you like it  ❤️ Feedback is deeply appreciated! ^^

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

“Where…” you whispered, almost choking, as your dry throat tissues scratched against each other.

“Here, have some water,” someone helped you sit up and held a glass to your lips, letting you gulp greedily. The chilly liquid soothed your parched throat and you sighed in relief. Finally opening your eyes, you were met with the face of your best friend and the rest of your squadmates.

“Captain, you gave us quite the scare there. It’s been two days and you weren’t waking up. Glad to finally have you back!” grinned one of them and you smiled, only now feeling the dull ache in your abdomen. You remembered now, how you had saved one of your subordinates which resulted in a titan sinking its teeth into you.

Your eyes widened as your thoughts shifted to a certain trio.

“What happened to Levi and the others?” you asked, almost frantically, because you didn’t remember anything from the mission and the worry quickly settled inside you, like a parasite, and started eating.

Since Levi, Isabel and Farlan joined the Scouts, you were one of the few people who were assigned to take care of the three. They needed to learn more about the world above, about how the military worked, about how the Survey Corps operated, and tons of other stuff, not to mention training, riding, and strategy. The others who were assigned to help, did it with disdain until at one point they just gave up, not wanting to have any contact with the “mongrels from the Underground” but you had stayed. You genuinely liked them. Your mother had done some charity in the Underground and you had accompanied her on a few occasions. What you felt towards the people from that place was only pity, because they deserved so much better than the curse they got since birth – to live in a place with no sun and light, where only filth and shadows flooded each corner, lurking over every inch of your skin.

So you had tried your best to take care of the three. Isabel had quickly taken a liking to you, followed by Farlan. Levi had been harder to win over. He was very quiet, reserved, and distrustful. But your constant kind gestures managed to crack even his shell if only a bit. He didn’t have problems with letting you be near him anymore. He even started talking to you and a day before the expedition he had even allowed you to rub his right shoulder. It had been aching and you had told him that he had to be healthy and strong for the expedition if he wanted to protect himself and his friends. He couldn’t malfunction. He had actually chuckled, although it was so quiet you almost mistook it for him letting out a breath, and let you do your magic at soothing his muscles. You had grown so attached to them that you couldn’t imagine your life without them. The thought that this was their very first expedition had hit you like a sack of bricks just before you had taken off and you had been worried out of your mind throughout the whole expedition, wondering whether they would make it out alive.

“Look, Y/N…I know you grew close during this past month but…Isabel and Farlan are dead,” announced your friend grimly and your heart dropped to your stomach. And suddenly your throat was dry again and no amount of gulping water or saliva was going to help. You let out a shaky breath as your trembling fingers clutched the edge of the bed, helping you sit up straighter and swing your legs over it.

“Wait, where are you-“

“I need to see Levi,” you muttered and your friends shared worried glances. They let you pass. They knew you were one of the most stubborn people alive and no amount of persuasion would put a stop to what you have in mind.

You stumbled all the way to the male barracks and opened the door, fully expecting to see Levi slumped on his bunkbed. But he was not there. In fact, the barracks were quiet and there wasn’t a single soul inhabiting them. The only sound that penetrated that silence was that of running water. Your eyes snapped to your left where the male common showers were located and you took hesitant steps towards it. This had to be the man you were looking for. After all, one of your squadmates had told you that Levi hadn’t left the barracks since the expedition.

You didn’t know how long you just stood in front of the door, wondering if you should wait for him or leave and come back later, endlessly contemplating on what exactly you were going to tell him. But after thirty minutes had passed and nobody was coming out, your thoughts shifted to, once again, worry. Because nobody ever took showers that long. The hot water had to be preserved. After all, there were around a hundred soldiers in the regiment who needed it and it was a bit harder to warm it up since they lived in a castle and not in the city like the Military Police or the Garrison.

“Levi?” you called out as you knocked but no answer came. “It’s me, Y/N. I’m coming in, ok?” you slowly opened the door and your face and body were instantly hit with hot thick steam and moisture. It was almost suffocating. “What the-“ you rubbed your face and eyes as you fully stepped inside and tried to focus. You finally located a figure at the end of the room and you walked towards it. The fog parted a bit and revealed the familiar backside of Levi. You were about to huff and scold him when you noticed just how red his back was. Your eyes widened as you outstretched your arm and put it under the sprinkling water, hissing and retreating it almost immediately.

“That water is scalding hot!” you exclaimed. “Levi, hey, let’s get out of here, hm?” you asked, voice laced with desperation and worry as you went to put a hand on his shoulder and shake him out of whatever trance he had fallen in. “You’re harming yourself. Please, let’s leave,” but before you could touch his skin, his hand shot out and grabbed yours, clutching it so tightly that he almost snapped it. He stood up abruptly and shoved you away, causing you to let out a squeal as you slipped and fell on your bum, the pain from your wound jostling your body, making you groan and clutch your stomach as if it was going to help soothe it.

“Get out,” he growled, his back still turned on you.

“But-“

“I said leave!” he yelled as his head sharply turned to look down at you. His eyes grew wide and the angry sneer and furrowed eyebrows he had donned eased a little. You stood up slowly and raised a hand, nodding.

“Ok…it’s alright, I’m going…just…don’t stay here long,” you whispered before you turned on your tail and exited the room.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

“Gods, would you go to bed already? Your wound is still healing and instead of resting you’re burying yourself in paperwork!” exclaimed your friend angrily as she crossed her arms.

“You know that there is always extra paperwork after expeditions. And I’ve been out for two days. I have a lot of work to catch up to. I’m fine,” you smiled at her reassuringly and she rolled her eyes before they snapped to the door after a knock echoed throughout your office.

“Name and business?!” you called out but nobody answered. The door just opened and your eyebrows shot to your hairline as you saw Levi holding a tray with two cups of steaming tea. Your friend gave you a look and nodded.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she said as she quickly exited and closed the door.

Levi just stood there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot until you told him to sit. He placed the tray on your desk and grabbed a chair, dragging it to sit in front of you while you were sipping on the liquid. There was silence for some time as you looked at him but he didn’t have the courage to look at you, focusing on his lap as his bangs covered his face.

Levi felt horrible. He felt disgusted with himself. He had been shaking like a leaf the moment you had left the bathroom. He hadn’t known what to do. He hadn’t even known which world he was on.

He remembered sitting there, almost choking on the thick steam, feeling the hot water drops drum against his skin. He had been so deep into his thoughts and the still fresh memories from two days ago, eyes scanning his hands in haze, seeing not clean skin but skin marred with dark wine blood – the blood of his family. The family he couldn’t protect because of his own foolishness and weakness. The moment he had felt that someone’s presence breathing down his neck and feeling the closeness of their hand, hovering over his shoulder, the close proximity creating warmth and electricity that had made the hair on his neck bristle, his hand had shot out automatically. He hadn’t wanted anyone to breathe the same air as him, much less touching him. He hadn’t hesitated when he pushed them away. But the moment he had turned and his eyes fell on you, regret had struck his heart and he had been frozen in place, not being able to do anything but watch with wide eyes as you shot him an apologetic smile before leaving.

He told himself that it wasn’t on purpose. He told himself it was just a reaction – a reflex – to something, someone, foreign, invading his personal space in a moment of deep vulnerability. But still…he felt like a trash.  

“I’m sorry,” he finally let out and you smiled at him, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,”

“No…I yelled at you…I pushed you…I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered and you sighed.

“Everyone mourns differently, Levi. You needed space; so I gave it to you. I probably startled you by touching you. I shouldn’t have been so abrupt with my actions,” you explained gently, hoping to ease the guilt that was so obviously drowning him. His hands balled into fists as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“You’re the only one I have left,” he muttered as his eyes finally locked with yours and your hand touched his ever so slowly.

“And I’m not going anywhere. Please… let’s just forget everything and keep going together,” you smiled at him as your hand stroke his and he let out a sigh of relief before nodding. The emotions swirling in his eyes were so many and so vivid that it almost made you cry. It engulfed your very being and had such an impact on you that it overwhelmed you, making you succumb to emotion rather than rationality. You stood up and approached the man, crouching down in front of him. The smile you sent him and the emotions swirling in your eyes, had him give you a soft smile. You rose on your toes and closed the distance, letting your arms embrace his form. You sank into him, head nestling in the crook of his neck as his own arms tugged you closer and squeezed your form.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured in your hair again and you tightened your hold, nuzzling into him. He didn’t know whether he truly deserved this forgiveness. You were simply an exceedingly kind and forgiving person. But he knew one thing. From now on he was going to do anything for you. He was aware he had a difficult personality but he was going to try his best and stick by your side. Because you truly were one of the few people who gave him a chance and tried so hard to forge friendship with him despite all and you actually managed to wiggle into his heart and settle there.  

.

.

.

I promise to protect you...

[itsallyscorner]

Ooooh can I do positions with Sebastian Stan???

Omg hi!!!🖤 Thank you sm for the request, I hope you like it!🥰

Thank you for the requests!! And thank you for the support love! I hope you enjoy this and my other requests (which I need to do soon)!🖤🥰 @its-izzys

💌.

positions

a/n: Decided to switch it up for this one and made the song about Seb’s feelings towards the reader:)

warnings: Some smut for you filthy animals😉

Heaven sent you to me

I'm just hopin’ I don't repeat history

It has been known that Sebastian has poor judgement in romantic partners. Now, that doesn’t apply to everyone he’s dated but there are a few who were just out of line. Everyone knew he wasn’t the best at relationships. His family, friends, heck even his fans could see through the facade of his so called “girlfriends”. He could never tell the difference between someone who’s using him and someone who genuinely liked him. Sebastian was one to be intoxicated with his feelings and loses himself in the moment. Which was probably why he never found anything wrong with the ‘candid’ paparazzi pictures or the constant posting of proof that someone was with him.

You were different from all the other girls he had dated. You were like Spring to his Winter. You symbolized a new beginning for him. Like how Spring would mark the beginning of a new season with its blossoming flowers and the awakening of animals, you brought liveliness to his cold and dark life. You actually terrified him to the core. He was afraid to fall for you because you were well off on your own. In his head you didn’t need him, but he needed you. You kept the grown man on his toes and without you he was not sure how he would survive.

Unlike the other girls, he was scared to loose you. Not only were you the most loyal, selfless, kindest, and caring person he knew. But he knew you genuinely loved him for him. He knew that you could care less about the fame, his social status, or the money. You wanted him for him. You wanted him at his worst, at his best, all parts of him. And it terrifies him that he could fuck it all up in an instant and loose you completely. If that happened he wouldn’t know what to do because he’s never experienced a love like yours. Compared to the others, he wasn’t going to repeat history and make stupid decisions, this time he was going to try and not fuck it up.

Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday

Then make a lotta love on a Monday (Ah, ah)

Never need no (No), no one else, babe

’Cause I'll be

Sebastian would do anything to make you happy. Seeing that contagious smile on your face always gave him butterflies in his stomach that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Hey Sebba?” You asked as you knocked on the wall of his home office one day. Sebastian’s eyes leave the script he had been reading for the past hour and a half as he turned to your figure leaning against the doorframe. You were cladded in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of those biker shorts that made your bum look incredible.

“How was your nap, draga?” He was about to get up from his swivel chair when you motioned for him to stay. You settled yourself onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Resting your cheek against his head you began to play with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

“It was good. Except someone wasn’t there when I woke up.” You softly answered as Sebastian pressed light kisses along your neck.

“The bed was cold without you.” You frowned against his hair. The scent of his shampoo filling up your senses.

“I’m sorry, I got excited when the script came and I couldn’t help myself.” He apologized as his squeezed your hips.

“Yeah, I know.” You chuckled as you leaned back to look down at him. He stared up at you with those ocean eyes that you just wanted to constantly dive into.

“Oh! I forgot to ask you.” You jumped in his lap as you remembered the text your mother had sent you earlier that morning. Sebastian nods at you, “What’s up?”

He saw how you slightly shrunk into your body and how your arms unwrapped around him so you can fiddle with your fingers. A little tic you had when you were either nervous or embarrassed. Sebastian comfortingly pressed his large warm hand against your back as the other took one of your hands into his.

“So...um. My mom’s birthday is during the weekend and we’re planning on having a dinner party with the family.” You started as you looked at your and Sebastian’s connected hands.

“My mom said she’d like it if you came along. She wants to finally meet you and she thinks the rest of the family would too.” You finished as you glanced up at him.

You were quick to tell him that it was his choice. You didn’t want to pressure him into suddenly meeting your family. Though it would be nice for him to finally meet everyone, you had to respect whether he was ready or not.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d love to come!” He immediately agreed, a wide smile on his face that made the sides of his eyes crinkle. Your head snaps up to him in shock. You were expecting to find a playful glint in his eyes but it was nothing but sincerity and joy.

“Wait, you want to meet my family?”

“Of course I do, draga. It’s your family we’re talking about! They’re the most important people in your life and it’d be an honor to meet all of them.” He explained as he gripped both of your hands. Sebastian felt himself smile when he saw the corners of your lips raise to your cheeks.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Seb. Thank you!” You excitedly wrapped your arms around him again pulling him into a suffocating hug. You felt his chest vibrate against yours as he chuckled.

He hummed as he savored the feeling of your limbs wrapped around him and how elated he felt when you were around him. Wrapping his arms around your figure he mumbled into your ear, “Plus, I should finally thank your parents for creating the love of my life.”

Switchin' them positions for you

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops

Know my love infinite, nothin’ I wouldn’t do

That I won't do, switchin’ for you

The aroma of spices lingered around the house after the delicious dinner Seb had cooked. You guys decided to have an at home date night since the two of you weren’t in the mood to get all dressed up for a restaurant. Plus Sebastian had just gotten back from the airport after months on end of filming in Atlanta.

The two of you were now out on the balcony of your shared apartment sipping on glasses of wine. The two of you looked out towards the city as you leaned against Sebastian’s chest. There wasn’t much talking, just the sounds of the city and each other’s breathing.

“Thank you for dinner. Although, it should’ve been me cooking for you, because you literally just came back from filming.” You turn around in his arms as you admire the man in front of you.

“No, I wanted to cook for you. You’ve been so understanding with my job and the hectic schedules. Plus we had to be apart for so long, I owe you.” Sebastian explained as he moved a strand of hair from your face.

You shook your head at him, “You don’t owe me anything, Seb. You’re just doing your job and I understand that.”

“No, I do. I get that we had our night time calls and FaceTime sessions but it just isn’t the same as being in person with you.” He started.

“You’ve been so supportive and patient with me. While I’ve left you waiting here for so long.” He shook his head at himself before looking down at you. His blue eyes now dark with longing and lust. He leaned down to brush his nose against yours. His plush lips leaving a lingering kiss on your own.

“Let me take care of you, (y/n).”

Perfect, perfect

You're too good to be true (You're too good to be true)

But I get tired of runnin', fuck it

Now, I’m runnin' with you (With you)

Sebastian laid you down gently on the cool comforter of the bedroom. The atmosphere around you two felt heavy as your lips clashed together with desperation and passion. Though the months of not seeing each other were miserable, it began to all feel worth it when you felt his touch for the first time again.

Your hands roamed his body, only stopping when they were hovering over his sweatpants, where a bulge was starting to form. Sebastian pulled away from your lips and took your hand, placing it to rest along his shoulder.

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you, I just want to focus on you.” His voice was soft and quiet compared to the events that were about to go down between you two.

He gazed down at you for a moment before his palm came up to rest against your cheek. He latched his lips onto yours, nipping at your bottom lips to grant his tongue access into your mouth. Your tongues poked and licked against each other. The heat below you was getting hotter and hotter, making your heartbeat race and a thin layer of sweat to form on your body.

Sebastian moved on to kiss along your jaw and neck. He stopped at your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin until a mark began to form. He helped you take your shirt off, throwing it aside to land on the floor. He watched as your breasts bounced in your red lace bra as you landed on your back again. He sucked in his breath as he looked at you through hooded eyes.

“Take this off, Sebby.” You voice was low with sultry as your nails teasingly dragged on his abs. He yanked his shirt off and threw it to the side. He dived down to claim your lips again, his hands running down to grip your thighs and wrap them around his torso. He ground down on you causing you to softly moan as his clothed crotch pressed down on your mound.

His mouth teased your nipples through your bra. He grazed his teeth along the lace material before sucking on your clothed nipple. He repeated the same action on your other nipple. You pulled on his soft hair as you watched him concentrate on pleasuring you. Your nipples were now peaking against the lace, wanting to be freed from the material. One of his hands flatten on your back and fiddle with the bra until it comes undone. His warm tongue attaches to your breast as soon as they’re exposed, giving them both the attention they needed.

He helps you take your shorts off before removing his sweats. He shifts himself so he’s laying in between your legs with your soaking heat in front of him. You feel his breath against your core causing goosebumps to form on your arms and legs.

“Draga I could smell you all the way here. I’ve been making you wait for too long, huh?” His voice teased you with hints of dominance. He enjoyed the effects he had on you. The way you instantly opened your legs for him and how he was the only one who could make you dripping wet without even doing anything.

You nodded against the pillow and looked down at him. A smirk was on his lips as his nose swiped along your clothed slit. He pressed a searing kiss above your mound as his eyes remained connected to yours.

“Who made you this wet, baby?” He asked huskily against your heat. He felt you clench around nothing as he kissed the wet lace that covered your pussy.

“You did, Seb.” You breathed out.

“Damn right I did.” He pulled your panties off you, the cold air meeting your heat. His mouth was agape as he was met with your heat glistening with arousal. He moaned at the sight and stuffed his face between your thighs. You let out a moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

His tongue flattened against your folds until he found your bud. His mouth latched onto it, sucking and licking at your clit. You emitted a moan, your back arching, as his mouth helped release the tension that was building up in you. He hummed in approval as he brought his fingers to spread your wetness through your folds. His finger teased your entrance before it smoothly slipped in. Sebastian groaned as he felt you clench down on his finger. He moved his finger in and out until he felt you ease up around him. He added a second finger stretching you out a bit more. He made a come hither motion with his fingers as they rubbed against your walls. When his fingers began hitting a familiar spongy area, your toes curled as you hips rutted against him.

He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you down. You were a mess above him. One of your hands gripping the sheets as the other pulled on his hair. Your head was thrown back, your hair sticking to your face as you moaned at the immense pleasure Sebastian was giving you.

“I can feel you. C’mon baby, cum on my fingers.” He rasped out before his tongue flicked rapidly at your bud. Your knees had came up to your chest as the tension in your body had reached a peak. With the harsh and fast movements from his tongue and fingers, you came with a loud choking moan as your body trembled above him. Your cum spilling all over his hand. Sebastian licked you clean as you came down from your high. He kissed your thighs before coming up to rest his forehead against yours.

“I missed the taste of you. Missed you so much.” He muttered as he licked his fingers. He left some of your cum on his fingers so you can have a taste of yourself. You sucked on his fingers until they were clean of your juice.

Sebastian pressed a sweet kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with you. One hand interlocked with yours while the other led his cock into your sensitive entrance.

“Te iubesc.” He said as he pushed himself into you. Your breath hitched as your walls hugged onto his length. You were filled with him to the brim. You felt the veins along his length and the weight of him in you.

“Si eu te iubesc.” You whimpered as he pushed even deeper into you. His eyes intensely locked onto yours as his hips rocked back and forth. His cock pushing in and out of you. He was dizzy with the feeling of you around him. You were like a drug and he was addicted to you. Everything about you was perfect. He fit into you like a puzzle piece, like you were meant for him, and he didn’t need anyone else. Just you.

This some shit that I usually don't do (Yeah)

But for you, I kinda, kinda want to (Mmm)

'Cause you're down for me and I'm down too

Sebastian would do anything for you. If he could, he would take you around the world to show you new places that you’ve been dreaming of visiting. He wasn’t afraid to show you off. Of course, he was private when it came to your relationship, but when he had the chance to show you off he always took it. He was proud to take you to premieres and introduce you to his friends and co-stars. Everyone could see how deeply in love he was with you. They’ve never seen him so entranced with someone. From the way he looked at you to how his hand was always protectively on you.

Sebastian thanked his lucky stars as he watched you lean against the balcony railing of the hotel you two were staying at in Paris. You were watching the city below you as the wind blew against your hair. The sun shined on you enhancing your natural glow. You looked so relaxed and carefree as if you’ve never had experience a day of stress in your life. He saw a small smile on your face as your fingers skimmed the rail.

You turned around to see Sebastian sitting on a chair inside the bedroom. He was staring at you, a dreamy look on his face. You smiled at him and giggled.

“Get over here and look at the city with me.” You motioned for him to come over as you held your hand out for him. He got up and took your hand, bringing it up to press a kiss on your knuckles. You turned around to lean against his chest as his buff arms wrapped around your figure. His head rested on your shoulder, pressing kisses against the bare skin every few minutes.

He could stay there for eternity. You in his arms as you both silently watched the hues of pink, purple, and orange take over the sky in Paris. You were all he needed, it didn’t matter where he was, he just needed to have you with him.

draga ~ darling

te iubesc ~ I love you

si eu te iubesc ~ I love you too 

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - Afternoon Delight (Rated M)

Summary: When Aziraphale invites Crowley over for some 'afternoon delight', Crowley daydreams about finally making love to his angel. But there's a chance that Crowley may be misinterpreting Aziraphale's invitation. (1576 words)

Read on AO3.

"Crowley!? My boy, are you there? Are you all right? What was that frightful noise?"

"It's... it's nothing! I'm all right!" Crowley rambles as he drops to his knees and scrabbles for his phone. It slipped from his grasp after Aziraphale extended an unexpected invitation, and in response, Crowley blacked out for a few. "Could you just... ?" He knocks it with his knee, sending it careening across the marble floor like a hockey puck. With a growl and a frustrated snap of his fingers, he puts the call on speaker, then sits nearby, feeling it safer if he continues this conversation while planted firmly on his bum. "Could you repeat wot you said? So I know I've heard you right?"

Aziraphale sniffs in mild annoyance but cheerfully repeats, "I thought you might like to stop by for a little afternoon delight!"

"Yeah. That's wot I thought you said." Crowley swallows hard, his mind spinning in a dozen directions as he tries to sort out an appropriate response. Since he didn't foresee himself being in this situation today, he doesn't know where to begin. Left to its own devices, his brain lands on the least important, and the most ludicrous, reaction: how does an angel who doesn't particularly like bebop even know that reference? 

"Ungh... now?" he asks in disbelief because, well, now? After all the time they've known one another, there hasn't been a single mention of them having sex. Not a nibble. And now, all of a sudden, all at once? With no pretense, no awkward explanations, no negotiating?

An outright invite as if Aziraphale were speaking on something no more extraordinary than afternoon tea.

Not that Crowley hasn't thought about it. He has definitely thought about it, and at length. He just wasn't certain Aziraphale had, naive bastard that he is.

Well. Now he knows. 

"Yes, now," Aziraphale replies, getting huffy. 

"You want to share an afternoon delight... with me?" Crowley can sense Aziraphale growing short and becomes anxious that he may renege on his invitation, but he has to know that this is what angel means. 

"Yes! An afternoon delight with you! I know it's going on supper, but the opportunity has arisen, and I'm too excited to wait till tomorrow!"

"Are you really?" Crowley asks, warming up to the idea of driving over to Aziraphale's bookshop to satisfy his angel's spontaneous desire for sex.

"Oh yes! I thought I could wait, but the more I think about it, the more I need to get it in my mouth immediately!"

"Ngk!" Crowley's cock, twitching with interest, rockets to full attention. He's thankful he made the decision to leave his phone on the floor. The way his hands go tingly and cold, it was destined to fall again. "Okay, then. I'll come over straight away... for an afternoon delight."

"Great!" Aziraphale says, sounding immensely pleased. "Do get a wiggle on. After all the effort I put into beating it stiff, it would be a shame to see it soften."

Crowley responds with only a guttural noise after that as he chokes on his tongue.

***

Crowley drives to Aziraphale's bookshop as if God Herself is hot on his heels, threatening to hose him down with Holy Water. Normally he delights in the chaos he creates while speeding through the streets of London, weaving in and out of traffic, sending pedestrians scurrying for safety. But not today. Today, his mind is installed elsewhere.

Between Aziraphale's thighs, for one - his lips lingering on the delicate skin behind angel's knees before Crowley spreads his legs apart and...

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Slow down, for God's sake!"

"Arsehole!"

That last one, coming from a bent old lady eighty years older than Moses, breaks him momentarily out of his daydream and makes him chuckle. But, quickly, he's transported back to the magical realm of Aziraphale's corporeal form, starts to sweat at thoughts of kissing Aziraphale's plump, bitten lips, his soft moans filling the air with lusty amalgamations of Crowley's name. He's heard Aziraphale say his name hundreds of times before in as many different ways, though mainly in exasperation.

Begging would be a new, delicious addition to that collection.

Crowley parks his car out front, half-on/half-off the curb. He leaves it up to his Bentley to lock up and barrels up the steps of A. Z. Fell and Co., bursts through the double doors without contemplating the best way to make an entrance. Aziraphale opted for the direct approach with his invitation.

Crowley decides to follow suit and do the same.

And he's greeted by... nothing. Musty air and silence. But that doesn't stop him. He's there for a purpose, and with Aziraphale's express permission.

To finally make love to his angel.

"Aziraphale? I'm here!" Crowley calls, snapping his fingers to lock the doors and pull the shades. "I've arrived! Where are you?" He unbuttons his shirt, undoes the fly to his trousers, and begins to undress, searching the stacks and shelves. He sheds each article as he stumbles through, leaving them in his wake. If he weren't a demon, his dry cleaning bill would be atrocious.

One of the perks of his job.

But, honestly, he couldn't care less. He's waited for this moment for so damn long he can taste it, sweet on his tongue like candy floss. In his head, he feels Aziraphale and only Aziraphale, knows he's somewhere close by and alone. 

Waiting for him.

Crowley imagines the level of undressed Aziraphale may be as well. No bow tie and with his top button undone? That right there is enough to make Crowley’s mouth water - hints of pale, perfect skin peeking out from beneath his baby blue shirt. Or will he go further? Jacket gone, waistcoat hanging open, shirt buttons opened to part way down, sleeves rolled up and showing off his impressive forearms?

Oof.

Crowley stops walking to take that thought in, let it wash through him and feed his erection instead of disrupting it prematurely.

And what about the state of his trousers? Button unbuttoned, zip lowered, waistband shrugged to his hips, waiting for Crowley to reach out a hand and take the next step, trembling fingertips sneaking underneath the smoothest cotton fabric known to man…

“Good lord,” Crowley murmurs, stuttering to a halt one more time as he steps into a ring of light. His eyelids flutter shut as the light glows brighter, and another voice echoes his with its own utterance of, “Good lord.”

Crowley grins. He recognizes that voice.

“Aziraphale?”

“Who else were you expecting?”

Crowley opens his eyes and finds angel… slightly more dressed than Crowley had anticipated.

Aziraphale stares at Crowley wide-eyed, a flush of rose climbing up his neck, his holy aura as blinding as his cheeks. "Crowley! Why on Earth have you taken off your clothes!?"

“Uh… I don’t know?” Crowley looks Aziraphale up and down. Not only is he fully dressed, but he’s wearing an apron to boot.

So more dressed than usual.

“And you’ve tossed them all over.” Aziraphale tuts, shakes his head. “They’ll be ruined.”

Crowley is tempted to agree, gather them all up, put them on, and blow this off like one big joke. But he’s so genuinely baffled, he can’t force himself to act. "I... uh... might be confused. Why am I here again?"

"For some afternoon delight!"

Crowley nods, his head pounding from a loss of blood that’s causing other areas of his human-shaped form to throb. "And you know wot that is?"

"Of course, I do!"

"And you don't think that undressing might be in order?"

"Heavens no! Unless you're concerned about getting your clothes dirty… ” Aziraphale leans to one side and peeks over Crowley’s bare shoulder “… not that that makes much difference now. But you've always been a tidy eater."

Crowley's back teeth clench around a whine. Eat! Yes! Eat! Isn’t that what he’s here for (among other things)? "Eat wot, exactly?"

"This." Aziraphale gestures proudly to a round table in the center of the room, urging Crowley, with eager blue eyes, to investigate. Crowley shuffles over, too curious to be concerned by his nakedness. He looks down at the dessert sitting on its silver plate, surrounded by Aziraphale’s tea service, and quirks an eyebrow. 

“A cake?”

“Yes.”

"That's not wot afternoon delight means, angel."

"Of course, it does."

"How do you figure?"

"It says so right here in my cookbook." Aziraphale grabs a book from the table, its cover worn from decades of man-handling and food spills. He opens to a page marked by a tattered red ribbon and clears his throat. "Five-Layer Afternoon Delight: a strawberry and chocolate mousse confection divided by layers of pecans and meringue atop a light-as-air angel food cake slathered with sweet cream."

"That does sound scrummy," Crowley says, whimpering at the mention of angel food slathered in cream.

"Doesn't it?" Aziraphale sets the book aside so he can cut a slice for his companion. "Besides, I thought it would be the perfect prelude."

"Yeah?" Crowley snaps his clothes back on and takes a seat, reaching for his plate. Dusty and humiliated, he crosses his legs to kill his erection. He picks up his fork and prepares to tuck in, resigned to the fact that this is the only angel cake he's going to get his lips around. "Prelude to what?"

"To sex," Aziraphale says, grinning like a beast when he hears the China plate hit the floor.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.07

11/03/2020

Waiting to Exhale

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5, 871

Warnings: smut!, SO MUCH FLUFF, smidge of angst, language, talk of pregnancy for the purpose of an heir to the throne

A/N: Y’all, I really tried to move away from the smut this chapter but THOR MAKES ME DO IT! FUCK! I want him so much. Reader is literally me. lol Anywho, I wrote the end of this chapter like half asleep, just now. And I’m too tired to even worry about going back to proof it and I wanted to share it with y’all now instead of making you wait until tomorrow so, here it is. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT REPOST my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

Kissing Thor is noisy. Mainly because he likes to really kiss you. His lips smoosh against your own until he’s delving into your mouth with his tongue. You’re so eager to reciprocate the affection that you greet him willingly. Your own tongue swirling around his own.

You’re hit with the salty tang of the olives from his sandwich, a spicy bite to the flavor from the jalapeños.

He kisses you slow, making it last minutes. He makes you dizzy and your heart seems to be perpetually pounding since last night.

The water sloshes around both your bodies as he reaches down to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you right up against him, breasts squished against his massive pecs.

He holds the side of your head, fingers strong and possessive as he tilts your head to explore you better.

When your breath is nothing but gasping, he pulls back with an audible smack. He leans in to kiss you twice more. Two quick pecks before he twists to his right and reaches for the large glass of wine he’d poured you.

Handing it to you, he fixes your hair before reaching to his left for a sandwich triangle. Roast and chicken, cheese, tomatoes, and mustard. You’re not even sure you like this food but when Thor holds the tip of the sandwich up to your lips you open up and take a bite.

Your mind is too preoccupied with the naked God before you to worry about the flavors in your mouth anymore. If it doesn’t immediately pertain to Thor, then you don’t have a mind for it right now.

He follows your bite with his own and replaces the sandwich on the tray still half full along with a bowl of olives and another of cheese cubes.

You lick your lips as you chew, watching his face for any shift that might hint at a change of mood.

Thor however hasn’t changed since this morning when you gave yourself to him completely. And he gave himself to you too.

Maybe it’s silly to think that way, that what happened between the two of you was anything more than sex, but it felt like it. Especially that first time.

He’d been so…there had been something about the look in his eyes, the way he touched you. So sweet and gentle. So loving.

Even now, his free hand finds the soft skin of your side and while you flinch at first, he knows to keep his hand there and after a moment you settle and are still again.

“Why do you pull away?” Thor had asked in the morning after that first time when he’d been laying with you, talking as his hand sought a spot on your side.

“I’m not pulling away.” You’d argued. “I’ve just never been touched there before by anyone but myself. It feels weird. Not exactly a tickling but close to it.”

Now he lets the surprise pass and caresses the spot once your body has moved on from the shock.

“You keep searching for something. What is it, cherub?” He reaches over to give your cheek a little pinch then throws his hand over the edge of the large bath you’d seen when you’d stolen a peek at his bathroom.

The water is steaming hot, such a comfort to your surprisingly sore body. You hadn’t realized how much your morning activities would stress it. What a work out!

Thor’s already frowned at the bruises he can see he’s left on you. You shut that down quickly. You liked the sex. You’re not about to give it up because he’s a little too strong.

Smart? Probably not. But you’re discovering a whole new side to yourself that you hadn’t known you could be. And the bruises are only on your hips, some on your ass.

You didn’t know that you could be desirable and seductive. Irresistible? Definitely not! But from the way Thor’s hands keep loving on your curves, you must at least be so to him, right? Even if it’s only in a physical, sexual way. It’s more than you ever thought you’d have.

“Nothing.” You swallow your food, tipping your glass against your lips to wash it down with a mouthful of wine.

Before you can say anything else, Thor mashes his lips to yours. His tongue takes a quick dip into your mouth before finishing his kiss with another peck.

“Mmm.” He hums, and you can’t help but laugh.

“What was that for?”

“You taste like raspberries.” He informs you, swiping his thumb across your lips.

“It’s the wine.”

Thor purses his lips, giving you a skeptical look as if you’re lying.

“Mmmmm, you sure?” He smiles, a big goofy grin you hadn’t seen yet.

The expression gives you such joy that you laugh, leaning against his chest as your body shakes with it.

Thor’s eyes are bright, happy, and he gladly dips his head down to kiss your lips as you pucker your lips up at him.

“Can this be real?” You wonder, staring up into his pretty face.

“Why do you think it isn’t? Shall I pinch you?” His hand tickles your side, grabbing gently.

You squirm and laugh, quickly grabbing his hand to stop his pinching.

“No!” You shake with your chuckling. “Stop.”

“I will if you tell me why you can’t believe this is reality.”

“I don’t know? Because it all feels too good to be true?” You turn around slowly, nestling into his lap, his arms wrapping themselves around you instantly as you lean back against him, resting your head against his shoulder.

He kisses your cheek, then rests his own scratchy bearded cheek against your head.

“I mean, it was three days ago that I was sitting in my house, completely alone and would have probably stayed that way until I died. I’ve never felt any kind of interest for anyone before.”

“I’m sure someone would have come along and fallen in love with you. You’re very lovable, cherub. Otherwise, how could you feel so good where I have you?”

Your cheeks are burning hot. If someone held a wick to it, it would light and burn.

You laugh nervously, not believing a single word.

“It’s true.” Thor insists, squeezing you against his body. “If I’m completely honest, no one has ever felt this good before.”

“You just need the affection.” You scoff.

“No.” Thor refuses your thinking. “I like you.”

He drops his voice to a deep whisper. As he says those three words, it becomes thick and heavy. It means a lot. To you. To him. This is a significant moment, and he makes sure to steal your breath with his massive body curling around you from behind and that deep voice that likes to nestle in between your ribs and make it hot there.

“We’ve only just started,” he observes. “Imagine how I’ll feel in a month.”

He’s absolutely wicked with his charm, and you know you’re a lost cause to it. There’s no going back from this now.

“And I did like you, too. Even when I first came to see you. I can’t deny that. I think it’s pretty clear by now, how I feel. But I had no idea that it was to this extent. I didn’t know that I’d go from virgin to what happened today in the blink of an eye.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Thor asks, no fear in his voice but you can feel a tension in his arms.

“Nope. It isn’t.” You shake your head, turning to look at him but he’s so close.

His cheeks are a flushed pink bronze. You realize he’s blushing at your confession much like his made you all flustered too. He’s hot for sure, downright breathtaking, but you had no idea he could be this adorable too. Cute? He’s almost like a puppy in this moment. Sweet and lovable.

You can’t help yourself, so you just kiss his bearded chin, and he quickly turns to meet your lips with his own.

He relaxes, the affection calming him? You’re not sure. But that’s what it feels like and it plays into your theory that he’s been needing the physical reassurance.

You reach up behind his head, fingers delving into the short and wet strands of his hair as he reaches over and forces your head to turn more so that he can kiss you with passion again.

You whimper, his touch intoxicating.

In response to your own sounds of enjoyment, Thor utters a small groan. Slowly he pushes you up, rises, and spins with you until your back is to the edge of the bathing pool. He turns you around, then with kisses to the center of your back to nudge you forward, he guides you into bending over with your chest pressed against the warm edge of the bath. He bends over you completely and pulls you into another passionate kiss, holding your face towards his by grabbing your chin.

Gently he nudges your legs open with his knee and before you can prepare yourself fully, he’s inside you, curling his hips around your bum as he plunges himself deeper.

You break the kiss to gasp with pleasure, the sensation growing on you more and more. As he cups your breasts, you lay your head down and reaching back to hook your hand around his bottom, pulling him towards you when he thrusts making him groan with excitement as he picks up the pace.

~~~~~~~~~~

He’s moaning underneath you. A dramatic, overexaggerated, completely ridiculous display meant only for you as you card your hands through his drying hair. He has his head in your lap, shirtless form with only a baggy pair of black sweats keeping his manly bits private. For you, his face is upside down. But that doesn’t make him any less handsome.

You’re sitting with your back against the headrest, chuckling at the look on his face and the stupid sounds he’s making for your benefit.

“Stop making those noises!” You laugh, “It doesn’t sound right.”

“Or does it sound just right?”

You chuckle continuously, scratching his scalp lightly and his mouth genuinely falls open.

“Oh, that feels so good.”

Silly man.

“Are we going to spend the rest of the day in bed?” You wonder, not minding the idea one bit.

He mumbles something indistinct. Maybe nonsense? You’re not sure. But you laugh again.

“What?”

“Please, don’t stop.” He begs.

You lapse into silence, letting this blissful moment stretch on until your mind starts to wander.

You’ve realized that the affection he’s after isn’t just that, but he’s also touch starved.

You are too, but that makes sense. You’ve been single your whole life.

It’s weird for him. He’s been with Jane for a while. Why does it feel like these displays of affection from you are something he’s been yearning for? Maybe not from you specifically, but the touch is welcomed. Eagerly.

“Can I ask you something?” You keep stroking his hair, nails lightly grazing his scalp in small circles.

“Mmmmmmm…” He looks like he might fall asleep, his one blue eye shut.

“I know you said that you picked me because of what I told you my ideal marriage was like. Is this part of a marriage important for you? Physical affection? Is that what you liked about the description I gave you?” You reach down to stroke his cheek, loving the feel of his beard against your skin.

Thor opens his eye, staring up at you with a torn expression. What does it mean?

“I liked the image you painted of us.” He reaches up, caressing the back of your neck. “I should be more honest with you.”

Fuck. Is it bad news?

“Truth is, Jane and I haven’t really been together for about half a year. We hadn’t broken up officially or anything. And it isn’t so much that we haven’t seen each other just because we’re busy but we haven’t tried to see each other.

“If we had tried a little harder, I think we could have still kept things going for a bit longer, but…” He doesn’t finish his thought and instead leaves you to wonder if maybe Jane didn’t want to try? Or maybe he didn’t want to? Which is silly because he’s been holding out for her.

It’s what almost ruined your opinion of him.

“But you still love each other?” You’re confused, his love for her is so obvious.

“Many people who love each other drift apart. If both parties are not willing to keep the relationship going, even the strongest love can be inconsequential.”

His eye is trained on the ceiling above, a beautiful ornate wooden design carved by Asgardian artisans. He’s lost in thoughts. Depressing ones it looks like.

You don’t like the idea of him being unhappy. It stings a little on a personal level too to know that it’s because of his pining for an ex-love.

But you want him to know that you’ve heard him. You understand his feelings as best as you can.

“I’m sorry she doesn’t know what she’s losing.” You mean it too.

Jane is losing out on such a beautiful soul. Alien or not, Thor is entrancing.

You can’t picture your life without Thor now. Even if your feelings are still growing and nowhere near where his and Jane’s are for each other, the idea of never feeling his kiss again, his weight on you? It’s unbearable to think about.

He told you he likes you! That means something, right?

He’s also so sweet and funny. He really is a dream. If he hadn’t propositioned you during that first meeting of feigning your marriage, he’d be perfect. But no one can be perfect and you’re pretty sure he must have been desperate as hell at the time.

“But maybe I should write her a thank you note?” You place your hands on both sides of his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “If she had agreed to marry you, I wouldn’t be here. And I’m so…so lucky to be here, Thor.”

You sigh heavily, having been thinking about this since your bath at noon.

“I thought I was going to be married to someone who wouldn’t care about me.” You confess. “I thought I was doomed to living a life without real feeling. But what we have…it isn’t normal, right? This kind of connection isn’t common?”

You could be wrong. This isn’t something you’re knowledgeable about. Not even a little bit.

“No. It’s not.” Thor agrees, reaching up to hook his hand around the back of your neck, a gentle squeeze to emphasize his words.

“We’re lucky, Thor.” You nod, smiling hopefully because for the first time since all of this craziness began, you can see the life you’d imagined for your ideal marriage as a true possibility.

There might be more to it. It’s not just a marriage, but a duty. You’ll be Queen and Thor is already King. There’s going to be more than days like this with him. There’ll be obligations and maybe even things that you won’t want to do.

Days like this will make it worth it.

Thor smiles at you, his body relaxed again after getting things off his chest.

“We’re lucky.” He agrees and pulls you down until he can kiss you.

Upside down, the kiss is a little strange. You huff a laugh against his lips until he reaches up to take hold of your head and tilt it to the side so that he can silence you with a deeper kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, I’m here.” Thor announces, strutting into his war room on the second floor.

It’s a simple room, large as it is. Round like his bedroom, with no windows. There’s a doorway to the right on the far end that leads to a small tower hidden among the various roofs of the palace. That’s his strategic viewpoint. That’s where he can see invaders if invaders are stupid enough to try and come here.

“You’re late.” Loki says, off-hand, not paying attention. He's focused on what’s before him. Busy.

There’s no urgency in his voice so Thor stops just inside the door, hands finding his hips as he stands there staring at his brother.

The silence is almost endless until Loki looks up and does a double take at the sight of Thor standing there wearing a pair of baggy black sweats and a ratty old gray shirt. It’s clean. Just full of frays and tears.

“I see we’ve completely given up.” Loki observes. “One day with your fiancé and you think you can relax and walk around looking like an Earth frat boy?”

“How do you know what a frat boy is?”

“I’ve been on Earth longer than you have I think.” Loki scoffs. “I had to scope out the planet before I tried to take it over, remember?”

“That’s not something I would go around bragging about, brother. The people of Earth might not realize you’ve changed.” Thor finally moves in further, sitting himself down on the large throne-like seat at the head of a very large round table that doubles as a battle map.

This is what Loki had been focused on.

As he sits back, relaxing in his comfy chair, he sighs heavily. Happily. Hands resting on his stomach as he stares at the table, zoning out with thoughts of the copious amount of times he’d made love to you today.

Loki’s continued silence begins to draw his attention and he turns to look at him only to find him with narrowed and suspicious eyes.

“What did you do?” Loki demands, “Why do you look so pleased with yourself?”

“Hm? Nothing. I did nothing.” Thor assures him, sitting up a little straighter and clearing his throat.

Loki knows him too well. The way Thor spreads his legs, wide apart as he claims the room as his own with his mere presence. There are only two reasons his brother takes that posture.

“I know you, Thor. You’ve either defeated an enemy in battle within the last few hours of the day—which is clearly impossible since you’ve been holed up in your bedroom this entire time. Or you’ve gone and bedded some woman until you’re entirely spent.”

Thor clears his throat, avoiding his brother’s eyes.

“Thor,” He already sounds upset. “I thought you were going to wait until you were married to her?”

His demanding tone, the upset brings a sense of slight shame to Thor’s beautiful memories of the day.

Quickly he wipes that away. It was a day well spent, growing closer to you and forming a bond that will help you both in your marriage.

“We were supposed to!” Thor argues.

“How could you bed her two days before the wedding?”

“She asked me to!” Thor counters, getting to his feet as he gestures towards the door with both hands flat, palms up.

“As if I’d believe that.” Loki frowns.

“She did! I swear to you, I tried to refuse her.”

“Not very hard, I imagine.” Loki scoffs.

“Loki, the last thing that I want to do is take advantage of Y/N. She’s honest and true. She doesn’t play games and she’s up front about what she wants. She told me that she wanted to be with me because she felt it was right, not because she was required to in order to consummate our marriage.

“And honestly, I’m glad that we did it. Not only do I know now that she and I are compatible in that way, but it meant more for her to do so willingly. I wasn’t exactly eager to bed her knowing that she was only doing it because it was something she was obligated to do either. We were both of one mind on that front.”

Loki’s eyes are sharp, trained on Thor as he explains himself and crosses the room to a small table against the right curved wall to pour himself a glass of ale. He’s able to see that Thor is not lying. Everything he just said is the truth. And while he worries about you and Thor too, he can see that this is probably for the best.

He thinks about it as Thor drinks, then accepts this new phase of your courtship.

“Well, I suppose it’s never too early to start working for that heir.”

Thor sputters on his drink, coughing and gasping.

He thumps his chest, turning to Loki as he zones out again with thoughts of the copious amount of times he’d made love to you today, and each and every time he released within you.

True, you and he would have had to start on an heir quickly. It’s what the people want, as well as the Ambassadors for Earth. They want tangible ties to the human race.

Still, Thor’s heart begins to pound at the idea of your belly swelling with his babe.

It’s not an unpleasant thought. In fact, the more he pictures it, the more he likes it.

Because he’s an idiot, he tries to picture Jane like that too.

They’d never even discussed children.

Jane had been focused on her work and Thor had been too happy to step aside and wait for her to be ready.

He finds he can’t picture Jane the way he can picture you, sweet smile caressing your belly as you look up to meet his eye. Smile widening before you reach out towards him, “Come feel, he’s kicking.”

His imagination is surprisingly vivid and his heart swells.

“A head start on siring an heir isn’t a bad idea. You should spend tomorrow doing the same.” Loki suggests.

Thor reaches up to rub along his chest, right over his heart as that feeling of fullness keeps growing.

“Aye,” Thor agrees, but his words are a whisper to himself. “I think I just might.”

“What?” Loki asks, Thor too quiet for him to hear.

“Nothing. What was the threat you wanted to speak of?” Thor moves back to his seat, but rather than take it, he stands, staring at the simple map of Earth.

Loki isn’t looking at the map, however. He’s got what looks like a silver bowl on top of it, a glistening silver liquid within.

“A window.” Thor realizes.

“Just a small one.” Loki nods, staring intently at the serene liquid.

“What do you see?”

Thor only sees the silver liquid.

“Stirrings. They’re quiet, and only shadows for the time being. I sense Jotunheim.” Loki murmurs darkly.

“Laufey?” The worry is heavy on his mind now, nothing but this threat matters to Thor. In this moment, he’s got one thing on his mind.

“Perhaps.” Loki nods.

“But you killed him. Didn’t you? You saved father and mother. Another trick, brother?” Thor spits, almost angry. Mostly just suspicious.

“No.” Loki insists, giving his brother a frown. “Not on my side. I thought he was dead. I’m not sure if it’s him but it feels like Laufey.”

“What does this mean?”

“I’m not sure yet, Thor. As I said, it’s only a stirring. I’ll have to keep watch.”

“Have you shared this with the guard? Brunnhilde? Sif?” Thor asks.

“Yes.” Loki nods, waving his hand over the silver. “Sif has gone to hurry the Warrior’s Three back in case something should come before the wedding. Don’t worry, brother. As soon as I have more information, I will come to you.”

With a heavy sigh, Thor crosses his bulging arms over his hardened chest. Now his mind is preoccupied. Worries begin to grow. The safety of his people first and foremost.

They don’t have the armor or weapons to defend the city much less the surrounding human cities in the area. If the Jotunn should rise again, their wrath would not stop with New Asgard.

“Thor?”

“Hm?” He’s still mostly distracted, out of it as his mind races to plan ahead for all contingencies.

“Don’t you have a pretty future Queen of Asgard waiting in your bedroom? Did you not have something to do?”

Thor’s gaze eventually wanders over to Loki. He understands he should say something, so he nods. “Right, of course. Right. Keep me posted.”

He walks around him, through the door and back up to his floor. At the end of the hall he sees the light seeping through the bottom of the door. The warm glow of the lit fire.

Moving towards it, he doesn’t see it or the comforts it promises. He can only see the thousands of faces of his people, looking to him for guidance and reassurance. Their safety is in his hands. He can fight for days, weeks without stopping if he has to in order to protect those under his care, but he’s one man. How will he protect them all?

He can’t be there to block every blow.

The weight of his crown is heavy, feet falling heavy against the wooden floor.

A fear begins to bubble up in his chest, shifting and squirming, making him feel sick to his stomach. His hand shakes as he reaches out to take hold of the handle to his door. As he takes it, he squeezes harder than he means to and the metal groans beneath his grip.

When he pushes the door open, a wave of warmth washes over him, pulling him out of the grip of the cool hallway air.

He hears a groan from his desk chair.

Searching for it, he spots you sitting with your back twisted as you hold to the arm, turning to face him.

It’s the sight of you that clears his head and steadies his heart.

Sitting there with in his pink sweater again, this time a pair of thick wool socks on your feet. One is scrunched around your ankles, the other holding firm to your lovely, well explored calf.

You take his breath away as you smile at him, your eyes searching his face. Your pretty smile falters, a scrunch between your eyes as notice his distress.

“Is everything okay?” You ask him, the laptop behind you abandoned mid-sentence on whatever work you’re writing.

He stops by the door. It shuts behind him. You stand up and Thor’s mind is bathed with the delicious image of you again, belly swollen with his child.

This time you’re not smiling and beckoning him for a feel of a kick. Instead, you’re standing before him, your hands resting against that belly, your face twisted in honest concern.

This time he doesn’t have to imagine what you would say because you open your mouth now and say, “C-Can I help? Thor? What can I do?”

Nothing.

You can do absolutely nothing if a Jotunn army comes to freeze the Earth over. Their cradle is gone but their power comes from magic. Magic in their blood. And they’re strong enough to do damage without the cradle.

So, even though you ask, and he knows that the answer is nothing, just the fact that you ask. That adorable little crinkle between your eyes.

His mind returns and in three long strides he’s got you up in his arms. He kisses you hard, overcome with gratitude and that image in his head of you pregnant both smiling and worried. It’s too much for him and how can he show you how much your offer means to him?

How can he show you that your own strife over his feelings for Jane is unnecessary?

The only way he can think of in this moment is without words. With his hands and his lips and his body.

“Mm.” You mumble, resisting. You push yourself back a bit and Thor lets you get away but keeps you held against his body; your legs wrapped around his waist. “Thor, what’s wrong?”

Your hands are so gentle against his cheeks, caressing his beard, stroking it as if the feel of it brings you pleasure.

He pushes forward, past your little grip and buries his face against the side of your neck.

You smell like rosewater. And something else. Something just you. You’ve taken another bath in his absence. He can’t blame you after all of the loving he’s given you today.

Without another query you wrap your arms around his shoulders, one hand making soothing circles between his shoulder blades, the other on the back of his head in a supportive caress.

Thor is absolutely melting from all this affection you’re giving him.

How had he survived without it?

How had he gone so hard for so long and only now realized that he’d been waiting to exhale.

Here in your arms, he can breathe finally. Even though the weight of Asgard is on his shoulders, and the weight of the Earth and the nine realms too, with you here holding him up he can take solace for a bit.

He carries you back to the bed, sits on the edge, and you readjust your legs so that you can keep them on either side of him but hold yourself up a bit more steadily. Thor loves the way you seem to flow with his movements. You respond and he adjusts for you too.

After what feels like an hour, he pulls back to look up at your beautiful face.

“Where have you been all of my life?” He whispers, voice choked from the breath he’d finally breathed.

“I’m here now.” You nod, “And I won’t go anywhere unless you want me to.”

Thor scoffs at the idea, such a completely stupid and ridiculous thought for you to have because he cannot possibly exist without you in his life now.

He realizes it now more than before. The sex had been fantastic. Much needed. The intimacy welcomed and yearned for, though not exactly from you until you gave it and he realized that it was exactly your type of intimacy he’d been looking for.

There’s something more to what you can give him. More to what you’re already providing him with.

To his great pleasure, and he hopes to yours too, there’s one more thing he needs from you. Something that he hopes you’re willing to give.

“Let’s make a babe.” He says, and he can see your breath hitch.

The way he can see your mind go blank and fuzzy and then try to process what he’s just said is endearing. You’re always so shocked by his displays of attachment.

He can’t exactly blame you. It’s only been three days. Still, he’s felt more in these three days than he has over years with anyone else.

This feels so close to love, he’s almost certain that for him it already is. But he’ll hold off telling you until he’s completely sure. He meant what he told Hilde and Loki. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

Not ever.

“Wh-what?” You finally stutter, your lips shaking as you speak.

He smiles, reaches up to trace your bottom one with his thumb and they part for him, a response no doubt curated by the many situations he’s placed you in today. Every touch had been a request to come closer and every time you’d opened up for him.

“We’ll have to have one eventually. Soon, too. The Ambassadors will want a human Asgardian heir as soon as possible to make sure that I’ll have a reason to protect the human species as much as my own.

“But mostly I really just want to see you heavy with my child, cherub. We’ll make many little angels together. Sooner, rather than later.” Thor hooks his hand behind your neck, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you towards his lips.

You pucker up instantly the closer you get, your eyes peeled however, trained on his own electric blue as if you’re waiting for him to say it’s a joke.

He gives you a peck, just reassurance for you.

“You do?” You breathe, airy and short.

“I do. Let me make you a true mother of Asgard.” He whispers, and he can see your skin pimple. He reaches down to run his hand up along your arm, only making the goosebumps more pronounced as he tries to soothe them.

Thor can see you struggling to find the words. It doesn’t look like a negative thing.

He brings his hands down to our thighs, running them up to push the sweater you’re wearing up a bit until his fingers find the crease of your bent legs just below your hips. He tickles you there and you squirm, accidentally rubbing up against him just right.

“Let me fill you up, my sweet, sweet cherub.” He gushes, hoping it’s not coercion he’s inflicting and hopefully just reassurance. “I want you to the be the mother of my children. Only you.”

And then you pounce.

Thor is taken aback by the weight you throw on him, the flurry to get his pants down and his shirt yanked up over his head. He traces your sides, fingers dragging across your skin slowly which only seems to drive you crazier.

You kiss him hard at first, then after a minute, it softens.

You pull back to look down at him and Thor tries to read that look in your eyes. He tries to understand the resolve there, the grit he can see.

Then you’re kissing him again, these electric fire kisses that seem to make the world around him blur until all he can see, feel, hear, or care about is you and your body and pulling those little chuckles from you in the middle of your romp because the way your voice suddenly shifts into a moan from the happy sound drives him wild and all he wants to do is make you call his name.

What is this intoxication he has with you? That apple taste of you, so much like ale, draws him in and there’s no escaping you now. You’re his, and he can see in your eyes that he is truly yours.

Willingly he gives himself up to you. All thoughts of Jane driven from his mind because how can anyone compare to this draw of you? This perfection?

“Oh, Thor…” You whimper, his hands pulling you slowly against his hips as he pushes himself up with his other arm.

He hits you deep, stretching you wide as he stuffs you with his cock. Your hand is tight around his shoulder, nails digging hard as you bite your lip and muffle your moan.

“No…” He pulls you to him, sitting up then standing up and taking you with him. He turns around then with you falls to the bed. “…no. Let me hear you. I wanna hear you.”

He thrusts in deeper and you cry out loud, legs wrapping around his waist to yank him closer.

“Like that.” Thor whispers, approving of the sound you just made.

He thrusts again and it’s breathier, but still a cry and anyone in the palace will know that he’s made you his, body and soon soul too.

Will he ever tire of your body? Will he ever tire of these sighs and moans?

He doesn’t even need to ask because he knows.

Never.

[lightsaberupmybutt]

A friendly massage - Luke Skywalker x Reader

Part two is here!

Summary: The reader is Lukes Padawan and gets into an unfortunate (yet humorous) mishap during training that leads them into receiving a necessary massage from a certain blonde jedi. Someone gets a little too excited by the contact, ending in a awkward Luke ™

Warnings: PG15, no smut but mention of smut, awkward boner woops

Look, this wasn't suitable to be written on my twilight imagines page OR my peaky blinders page (for obvious reasons i guess) so I'm making this and leaving it here and if you read it, on your head be it.

For the most part, the life as a Padawan to the most renowned jedi was a thrilling experience. The training course of Luke Skywalker was one destined to end in success. However, standing between you and this end goal was an intensive regime of training and body conditioning that, quite honestly, made you want to pack it all in and move as far away from the blonde warrior as the physical universe you so happened to live in would allow. Some days you felt like your bond with your master was so strong that you would trust him with your life and risk yours to save his; other times you wished you could use all the force you could muster to choke the dear life out of the cocky little brat. Today was sadly an example of latter. 

“And you promise i wont fall” this was your 4th time of asking, and you still weren't completely sure that what you were being told was truthful,

“Of course you wont fall, stop being silly” Luke had a bashful smile as he reaffirmed the idea you didn't believe he actually had any faith in. 

Balance training was apparently key to being a good fighter, although the idea of you leaning how to do a cartwheel felt less how to be a warrior jedi and more how to entertain Luke in his fourth hour of training you of the day.

“i can literally sense that you are lying " 

“No you can’t" he was right, you couldn’t - but equally you could deduce from your failed previous attempts that the odds were not in your favour. 

“What if i just did a handstand against the wall? “ You had mastered the art of handstands due to a previous episode of Luke’s manic boredom.

Luke sent a tut your way, his lips slipping into a goofy sideways smirk.

“i think, young Padawan, you are significantly underestimating the importance of agility in a one on one combat situation” he walked around you in circles, in mock thoughtfulness. 

“I suppose you aren’t quite serious enough about your future as a Jedi” he continued, making you groan in annoyance.

“And whats the next key lesson? how to do the splits? a twirl?” you snapped; Luke was fun to be around and you'd be lying if you said a part of you didn't look forward to these times you were given alone together, but that didn't mean he couldn't piss you off. 

“a Twirl is actually lesson ten, you're nowhere near ready for the twirl Y/N” he quipped back, letting out a little giggle at his own joke. 

You had been around Luke for over a year now, long enough to grow more affection to him than an apprentice should to their master, however this laugh that would normally make your heart and lower stomach flutter was having the opposite effect on you today. 

Training sessions had recently started to take a less serious turn with Luke, which you thought to be a good thing at first. Luke could make you laugh very easily, and sometimes his jokes and elaborate tasks he would set for you were the only sense of joy you got in your day. You truly appreciated Luke for his carefree and wholesome jokey outlook in a place full of seriousness and rule. 

However, the proposition of an low level gymnastics competition while you are already drenched in sweat and bruises from your previous hours of fight training made your affectionate disposition toward the Jedi leak out of your ears. 

“Fine and then will you fuck off so i can get the smell of your sweat out my nose?” 

Luke stepped back, holding his hands in mock defence and clearing an area for you to preform. 

Shaking off a little, you got into the position of a dramatic cartwheel and then attempted to flip your hands to the ground and kick your feet over. 

Of course, you ended up on the floor with a bang and a yelp. 

“y/n! are you okay” Luke was at your side as if he'd just seen you take a bullet, eyes full of worry.

“i fucking hate this place” You managed to whimper out, stroking the back of your neck where you connected with the floor.

As soon as Luke realised you were indeed not suffering from any life alternating injuries he let out a belly laugh, clutching his gut and rolling back on the floor. 

“I dont know what the fuck is so funny, i nearly broke my neck” 

“You should have seen yourself !”

By the time Luke managed to gather himself together enough to stop laughing and take a proper breath, you were still staring at him in disbelief and sheer anger.  At one time, falling over or tripping in front of your master would send you into a cloud of humiliation, but now you knew Luke well enough to know he put you into this kind of situation for his pure amusement alone. This enraged you. 

“Fine, well now that you've had your fun ill take my leave, Master” You would only pull out his true label of authority over you when you wanted to taunt the Jedi, who always seemed to blush and fumble over his words after the use of the title. Like always, Luke was left stunned with an unreadable look on his face as you pushed yourself up and waltzed out of the combat room.

A few hours had passed and after a meal and a shower you had fallen into a nap on your bed. When waking from said slumber, you noticed the pain in your neck had returned and was now accompanied with shooting pains down your whole spine. With a grimace, you chucked on your cloak and slippers and made your way to the medical room, Only getting to your own door before bumping into the one and only Jedi Master. 

“You” You shot at him, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction,

“Me?” he asked back, looking genuinely shocked and maybe even a little scared. 

“Your fucking antics have got me in a disabled position” you told him, crossing your arms in a defensive position. He snatched the back of his head, attempting to look sincere, but you could see the gleam in his eye as he tried not to laugh. “Hey I'm sorry okay” when you neither break eye contact or accept his apology, he continues

,“Is there anything i can do? can i get you a heat pad or something”

You're not sure where the idea came from, maybe the need for your pain to dull or the hue left from the repetitive sexual fantasy dreams Luke had appeared in of yours lately, but before you could stop yourself the proposition was already out your mouth. 

“I think i deserve a massage”However shocked you were by your boldness, Luke’s face conveyed that he felt that ten times over. The boy openly gaped at you. 

“I .. i …erm i … y y yer sure i erm” He splutter off into nothing, his eyes darting around to avoid making contact with yours, 

“I guess .. i guess i can” he trailed off again.

Without a word you backed up into your room, Luke following and closing the door behind him. You plopped onto your bed, trying to not let your body protray just how excited and nervous you were at the idea of him touching you. Of course you’d had contact with Luke in training and even shared the odd hug here and there, but this was a different matter all together, a level of intimacy you hadn’t crossed into until now.

Luke was still standing at the door, looking the most lost you’d ever seen him. You looked over at him from your place on the bed,

“Okay so I guess this is happening” you heard him mutter, as he finally found his feet and stumbled over to your bed. You let out a giggle, finding your voice again,

“I don’t think even you can reach from other there, Skywalker” you teased him, as he gave you a cautious smile in response. He climbed up onto your bed with you, taking another few seconds to compose himself before slinging a leg over your back and straddling your lower body. You put your face back into the bed, the nervousness slowly seeping away and being replaced with humour with a side of sexual tension. Luke looked around the room, trying to find something to make eye contact with that wasn’t your bum that was now pressed to his lower half. You felt him shift again, as if he was trying to get comfortable from an angle that didn’t mean his lower region was touching your rear.

“You know you don’t have to do this right “ your words were muffled ever so slightly from the pillow you were resting your face on, but from this close proximity you knew he would hear, he quickly replied “no it’s fine, I want to” his voice cracked a little on the second half, and you could hear the strain in his words, making you smirk. Yer so maybe you hadn’t planned this, but it wasn’t exactly not fun to have him all flustered on your bed with you.

He surprised you with his next move, his automatic reaction of pulling your cloak down softly from your shoulders, his machincal arm a cooler temperature than you expected, causing you to shiver.

“I erm, is this okay” he said, feeling your body move under his,

“Yer it’s fine Luke , thanks” you replied, maybe a little too fast, as he continued to lower you cloak. When you felt him let out a soft moan, you were reminded that you indeed had not much Underneath, only dressing yourself in your garments after your shower. This forgotten piece of information made your heart drum again in your chest, the anticipation of skin on skin causing warmth between your upper thighs.

He started to move his good hand against your skin, a little too cautiously for your liking. His touch was feather like, but it still sent shocks through your spine, not exactly the healing kind but shocks all the same.

“You can go a little harder than that if you want” you didn’t realise the connotations of your words until you heard Luke let out a breathy exhale, you felt him readjust his legs again in a futile attempt to try and distance his lower half from you for a second time. His hands returned to your back, but with more pressure this time, kneeding your skin and searching for tension between your muscles. You let out a soft moan of appreciation as he found a spot that had previously been in pain, and he moved his legs again, shifting himself. You decided to ignore it though, not wanting to risk him stopping. He continued to rub circles into your back, gradually building higher and higher. The annoyance of his incessant wriggling was almost at a point you felt you needed to address it, but before the words came out your mouth he moved higher towards your neck, being forced to push his body flush against yours again, and you felt a hard buldge dig into your back. Your head whipped round in reaction and you were met with a look of shock equal to your own as you both made eye contact and then drifted your gaze down to the offending area of The Jedis anatomy. When your eyes met Luke’s face once more he was looking away, but you could see even in the dimly lit room the pink blush that peppered his cheeks and the embarrassment on his face. When he looked back he caught you staring again at his not-quite-concealed erection, making him release a sign that came out as more of a whimper

“I’m sorry” he stuttered, guilt heavy in his soft voice, but you didn’t even hear him, completely taken aback and equally aroused by the sight of him. Even with his trousers and cloak on, neither did much to hide the sizeable package. Luke came out of the daze before you did, removing his body from yours and not very gracefully dismounting the bed, getting his foot caught in one of your legs as he did so causing him to stumble back.

“Y/N I erm... shit I’m sorry I ..” it honestly didn’t matter that he was struggling with his words because right now you didn’t have the brain capacity to listen, too busy trying to remove your eyes from his private area.

“Stop looking at him” Luke whinged, sounding like a little boy who was in a strop because he had just been found coping his homework. You finally managed to move your eyes back to his face, which was covered in a thin layer of sweat and the deepest blush you’d ever seen on the Jedi. You couldn’t help it, the tension that had been building all evening plus the expression he held caused you to burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Luke grumbled, feeling the most humiliated he ever had and covered his area with his hands, shifting awkwardly towards your door and letting himself out. Before the door fully closed you managed to compose yourself enough to get out between giggles,

“See you tomorrow morning for training yer?”

His groan of irritation and tension was audible enough to reach you through the closed door, causing your laughing fit to resume.

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Prompt: You have always had a problem with self image. To you, there would always be someone prettier, someone funnier, someone more worthy of love, but to Fred, you are the most amazing person in the world, and he’s determined to make you see that.

A/N: I’M GOING THROUGH IT CAN YOU TELL??? Anyway, I really just wanted to feel loved, so I wrote Fred being amazing and stuff, so yeah! Also, Yule ball bc I fucking love writing it, its so cute and fun.

Warnings: Kind of angsty but ends fluffy, Swearing, so many commas, Fred being *soft*. SELF DEPRICATION!!! I truly believe everyone reading this is absolutely beautiful and kind and amazing in their own unique way, this is just how I be feeling sometimes.

You walked down the hallway, holding your books close to your chest and trying not to bump into anyone. You were headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, just wanting the day to be over.

For the past few weeks, all you could feel was dread. The Yule ball was coming up, and while a night full of dancing and music and having fun sounded amazing, you also knew you weren't going to be asked to go.

Now, you only had a week until the ball, and you were planning on how you were going to spend the night, probably reading, and talking with your owl, seeing nobody would be around.

You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You felt like no matter how many times you tried to be funny or open, you were always met with a closed door. No matter how much effort you put into your appearance, you ended up looking the same, or worse. No matter how much you studied, you were always a little more behind than you wanted to be. No matter what you did, someone was doing it better.

Of course nobody saw you that way, and especially not Fred Weasley. You had become good friends with the Weasley twins your first day at Hogwarts. You were all in the same year, and got along quite well, seeing the three of you all had a bit of a mischievous streak. But Fred noticed that over the years, you seemed less like yourself. You were more introverted, you didn’t laugh as openly as you used to, you didn’t smile as much, and it broke his heart.

Fred had developed a crush on you around 5th year. He loved everything about you, how your laugh was louder than others, how your eyes crinkled when you smiled, how you were kind and open to everyone you met, how you were able to make him laugh, but also take him seriously when he was hurting. Of course George started to notice, and would tease him constantly.

“Just ask her out!” George would say, which would just make the older red head smile but shake his head.

“If she said no it would ruin our friendship, I don’t want to lose her” Fred would say, wishing situations would be different.

However, Fred was now watching you as you sped walked down the hallway to the common room. He could tell something was off, so he shouldered George, signaling that he was going to break off for a bit, before following you into the common room.

You quickly muttered the password and went inside. The common room was empty, which was a huge plus for you, not wanting to be social for the rest of the day. You took no time plopping your things down before laying back on one of the couches. Maybe now you could get some reading done in peace and not have to think about-

“Hey, are you ok?” Fred asked. you hadn’t heard him walk in and the sound of his voice made you jump.

“Oh! Fred, uh yeah, yeah I’m fine why?” You asked, heart beating quickly but not because of the recent scare.

You had also been crushing on the Older Weasley twin for a while. You loved how he always wanted to make you smile, even on the days you thought nothing could make you feel better. He introduced you to his family, who you love dearly, and also made you feel somewhat appreciated. Like you knew that he wanted you around. Of course you would never tell him your feelings, too afraid that he would reject you, and ruin your friendship.

“Well, I saw you walking in here and I thought you looked a little overwhelmed, so I wanted to see if there was anything I could do?” Fred asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Really its nothing, my brain is just somewhere else today I guess” You said, trying to move past the topic.

“Well I’m all ears if you want to talk” He said, coming over and sitting across from you on the same couch you were currently resting on. 

There was a part of you that didn’t want to bother him. That he would surely be uninterested in any personal problems you may be having. But then there was another part of you who knew him as your oldest friend. As the person who has been by your side through everything, and suddenly before you could stop yourself, the words were tumbling out of your mouth.

“Its stupid, but I’m just bummed out that I’m not going to the Yule ball” You said, causing Fred's eyes to widen a bit but you didn’t notice, too busy looking down at your hands.

“Why aren't you going?” Fred asked

“Well I was thinking of just going with some friends, but most of my friends already have dates and going alone would look lame as fuck. So I think I would rather just stay in and read or something” You said, shrugging a bit.

“Well I don't have a date” Fred said, taking you both by surprise.

“You don't?” You asked, genuinely surprised he hadn’t asked someone, or at least been asked by some other girls who you knew where fawning over him. In reality, Fred was thinking about how he would ask you, and whether or not you already had a date.

“Nope, so if you want we can go together so you we don’t have to suffer alone all night” Fred said, adding some humor to the conversation. You smiled at him, before thinking it over. 

“He’s only asking you as a friend” You thought to yourself.

“Sure! God knows what kind of trouble you would get into having to spend a whole night alone” You said, causing the both of you to laugh a bit.

“Great, so I’ll see you there?” He asked, to which you nodded your head.

“I’ll be there” You said smiling, before Fred rose to rejoin George, and tell him about the best thing that has happened to him all year.

The rest of the week went by in a flash. You and Fred were each to busy with either school or quidditch practice to really talk to each other, and you barely had time to go out and find a dress, but finally, the Yule ball was here, and you were freaking out.

“What the fuck am I doing?” You practically yelled to Angelina, who was sitting on her bed watching and you paced back and forward in your dress.

“You’re going on a date with the guy you’ve had a crush on since first year. What's the problem?” Angelina asked

“It wasn’t since first year!” You defended, before adding “And the problem is that I’m probably in love with him, and he probably thinks were only going together as friends, and I’m going to have to see him, and talk to him, and dance with him for HOURS while trying not to look like an idiot!”

“Y/n, I promise you wont look like an idiot, you look hot as hell” She said. You sent a look her way, causing her to laugh. “I’m being serious! this dress looks amazing on you, your hair is perfect, and I did your makeup so you know it could be better if you tried, you’re going to be great, so shut up and get your shoes on they’re waiting for us” 

“Fine you said, finally stopping your pacing and taking a deep breath. What's the worst that could happen? A lot, but still, try and think positive.

Fred was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase waiting for you and Angelina to come down, Angelina being Georges date. Fred however couldn’t stop fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, which was starting to annoy George.

“Mate seriously, just chill out I’m sure everything's fine” George said, trying to somewhat relive his brothers anxiety.

“I know, I know, but what if she changed her mind, or-” Fred started, about to go off on a rant before being stopped when a sharp elbow jabbed him in the ribs. Fred was about to go off on George for the stab, but before he could he followed his eyes to the staircase, on which you and Angelina were currently walking down.

You looked amazing. Your hair framed your face perfectly, your dress coming down to your ankles and the color complimenting your skin tone. You were wearing heels, which only made you slightly taller but still, it was a few more inches that allowed you and Fred to almost be face to face. He was absolutely gobsmacked.

You were walking down the stairs, desperately trying not to trip with these shoes which you were not used to wearing and taking in the sight of Fred. He was wearing a dashing suit, and you could tell he had done his hair a bit, but besides that he was still Fred, the same Fred that made you laugh and made you feel wanted. The same Fred you fell in love with.

You finally reached the bottom of the stairs and came face to face with Fred, who still hasn’t said a word, the mere sight of you making his brain short circuit.

“Wow that bad?” You asked jokingly, but deep down you were a little worried about his lack of a reaction.

“What? No! No, you look amazing!” Fred said quickly, causing you to smile and blush a bit.

“Why thank you, you don't look to bad yourself” You said, and Fred couldn’t help but smile back.

“Shall we?” He asked, sticking out his left arm which you accepted.

“We shall” You said, causing the both of you to laugh before walking into the ball room.

The night was everything you expected and more. There was dancing and amazing music, and every once in a while you and Fred would just take a break and talk.

You were laughing with Fred about  new prank idea when something caught your eye. There where two girls on the opposite side of the room, looking at the two of you and whispering to each other. Immediately your anxiety got the better of you, and all confidence you had gained during the ball now seemed to disappear.

“Would you excuse me for a second?” You asked, causing Fred’s eyes to furrow before he nodded, allowing you to pass him and walk out of the ball room. Fred watched as you left, before turning and making eye contact with George, who then made a hand motion at him to go follow you. So without thinking, he took off and tried to find where you went.

You were now standing outside, your elbows resting on a stone wall as you looked over the grounds, letting the cool autumn air wash over your skin and calm your nerves. You tried to relax but your mind couldn’t help but wander. This was stupid, you shouldn’t have come, you should have just stayed in your room and-

“Hey, are you ok?” Fred asked walking towards you, again causing you to jump a bit

“Hey Fred, yeah I’m ok I just wanted to get some air. You can go back if you want I wont mind” You said, trying to calm your breathing.

“Well I’m not going back without my date” Fred said goofily, coming to stand next to you and rest him arms by yours, but you didn’t laugh, just shook your head.

“You don’t have to call me your date Fred, I know you only asked me as a friend, so you don’t have to call this something its not” You said.

“What?” Fred asked, genuinely confused as to what you were talking about.

“Come on Fred, I know you only asked me because you felt bad. You didn’t have to waste your night on me I’m sure there are plenty of other girls you would have rather gone with” You said, still not looking at him.

“Why would I want to go with anyone else Y/n? You’re my best friend” Fred said, trying to make his feelings clear without actually having to say them just in case things didn’t go in the direction he wanted.

“Exactly, I’m your friend. You’ll only ever see me as a friend. You should be here with someone you like, someone you care about, someone who makes you happy and who you want to dance with and who you want to spend your time with” You said

“I already think all of that when I’m with you” Fred said, still not quite sure what you were saying.

“No you don't, not romantically. You could have asked any girl you wanted to come to the ball with you. Girls who are much prettier and funnier and more outgoing than me. Someone who you don’t have to ask out because you feel bad, but someone who you actually want to be with” you said, quickly wiping some tears that were threatening to fall.

Suddenly all the pieces came together for Fred. Why you had been so distant as of late, why you hadn’t been being yourself, why you seemed so low all the time. It was because at some point along the way, you developed an image of yourself that you weren’t good enough, or pretty enough, or funny enough. An image that wasn’t true, and to Fred, you were all of those things and more.

“Y/n, please look at me” Fred said, causing you to let out a breath before finally meeting his eye.

Your eyes shone from your recent tears, making them that much brighter, the moonlight danced off your skin and made your face seem to glow. Fred saw you, and saw the person he loved, and the person he needed to show was everything he would ever want. He took a deep breath, before bringing his hands up to cup your face and closing the space between you two, connecting his lips to yours.

You took a second to respond, mostly because you were in your head thinking ‘what the fuck, is this actually happening?!’ but then you took no time to melt into his touch, moving to hold his arms. After a while, you both finally pulled away, Fred looking into your eyes and smiling.

“Y/N, you are the funniest, most beautiful, most kind person I have ever known. I knew when I met you on our first day, I knew when I fell for you in fifth year, and I knew when I asked you to the ball last week. There is no one here I would rather be with than you” Fred said, causing tears to well in your eyes but this time in happiness.

“You had a crush for me in fifth year?” You asked, making both you and Fred laugh.

“Yes, and for some reason I still do, but hey if you don’t feel the same way I can just-” Fred started but you cut him off, grabbing his suit coat and bringing his lips down to meet yours again.

“I like you too” you said, quickly breaking the kiss to speak, “since sixth year”

“So, technically speaking you could say that I like you more than” Fred said, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t ruin the moment” You joked, causing the two of you to laugh before re connecting your lips again.

The Yule ball was absolutely better than you could have ever expected.

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

Woooooo I hope you liked it! But yeah if you read this and really connected with it in the “I’m not feeling great about myself” kind of way, my DMs are always open, and I’m always happy to talk, so feel free to hmu. I love you all, you’re all amazing and beautiful and awesome, and thank you for reading <3

[svnflowervol666]

New Year (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of smut, dad!harry (or dad-to-be!Harry I suppose), tons of fluff, skewed timeline (I wanted to make this work, so just pretend that Harry and Y/N have been together for quite some time and Camille has long been forgotten)

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my first time writing for Harry, so please be kind! I’d been trying to muster the courage to write this when it was actually right around the new year, but I’ve not been able to stop toying with this cute little scenario in my head! I’d love to write more about dad!Harry or just Harry in general, so your feedback and/or other requests would be greatly appreciated! Take care and tpwk!

She worked her way from the bathroom through the small crowd of people gathered around the living room for what felt like the hundredth time that night. If you asked her what the most inconvenient part of her pregnancy was thus far, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell you that having to pee every half hour on the dot was by far the biggest inconvenience of them all. Far too many times in her now 7 months had she found herself having to locate the nearest restroom anywhere she went as soon as she arrived just to be prepared for when her baby inevitably decided to plant its weight on her bladder.

The space wasn’t overflowing with random bodies or sleazy folks wanting nothing more than a juicy story for their news station. It was just a healthy handful of closest friends and their loved ones. It was a celebration. Of an upcoming new year, a recently released new album, and two recently successful shows in Los Angeles and London. Despite this, she still struggled to spot him in the dimly lit space of the house. 

After gently tapping shoulders and muttering a polite, “Excuse me,” to what felt like everyone at this damn party so that she and her perfectly rounded belly were able to pass through, she found him. He was propped up against the wall in the living room, his lanky, Gucci trouser-clad legs crossed over each other. She could tell by the way his eyes were glued to the floor and how his fingers anxiously drummed away to an invisible beat that he was waiting anxiously for her return.

Harry was never able to shake the nerves that overtook him when she went off on her own. After he’d found out she was pregnant (which was no doubt a result of the hot and heavy reunion the two of them shared after his extended trip to Japan that began around this time last year), he’d always found a way to convince himself that something bad would happen to her and the baby if he wasn’t with her at every possible moment. Sure, it felt somewhat smothering at times, but it beat having an unaffectionate husband who couldn’t care less about the impending arrival of his firstborn by a long shot. In his defense, his own safety had been compromised plenty of times throughout the years of his career, so it’s not to say that his worry was uncalled for. He simply felt more at ease with her by his side. With them by his side.

“What are you thinking about?” she prompted him, wrapping both arms around her husband’s torso and snuggling into his side the best she could with her bump in the way.

Harry seemed to withdraw himself from the hazy daydream he’d been lost in as he responded to his wife’s touch and wrapped his arm around the side of her waist so that his fingers rested softly on the swell of her stomach. She caught a glimmer of a cheeky grin tug at the corners of his lips before he spoke.

“Who ‘m gonna share my New Year’s kiss with after the countdown.”

Immediately, she rolled her eyes at the tall brunette that held her in his arms. Had she not been in such a doting mood, he would have likely earned a punch to the shoulder. Nevertheless, she decided to indulge Harry in his jokes. 

“Yeah? Who’s the lucky gal?” she added a dramatic raise of her eyebrow up at him.

“Hmm,” Harry fake-pondered.

“Verrrrrrry pretty. She’s ‘bout this tall.”

He raised his hand to his wife’s height for reference.

“Her belly kinda sticks out like this,”

His hands motioned in a crescent shape, mimicking her pregnant belly and making them both snicker even more in the process.

“Only thing is, she’s married.”

He finished off his grand performance with a pout.

“Well,” his wife responded as seriously as she could, “You’re Harry bloody Styles. I’m sure her husband would allow just one kiss if it was from you.”

This made Harry blush. She could see the bashful pink even in the low light of the living room, how the heat crept up his cheeks from being complemented by his own wife and partner of several years.

“Wha’ about you? Who's gonna be the one you cozy up to when the clock strikes midnight?” Harry then focused his attention on her.

“Oh,” she shrugged her shoulders as if it was a no-brainer. 

“I was thinking about going for Mitch," she gestured to the brunette who was sat on the sofa across the room with a beer in his hand.

Harry gave in and laughed loudly, unable to keep a straight face for the little game they had been playing.

“You might have to fight Sarah for that one, mate,” he was able to squeeze out in between giggles.

“Eh, I think I can take her.”

No further comment was needed as their laughter died down and they simply basked in each other’s company, listening to the buzzing of various conversations happening around them as the party continued on. Since the cycle began of press tours and rehearsals for the album release shows, the two of them felt like they hardly had any time to themselves, which was why they opted to celebrate the new year on a smaller scale as opposed to a grand party that dozens of other celebrities and brands had invited them to. Not only that, but seeing as their little one would be making their grand appearance in a little less than two months' time, any heavy partying was out of the question. 

“’Ye want to go home, lovie?” Harry broke the comfortable silence between them when he heard her yawn against where her head had been resting against his chest.

“No, you goob. It’s not midnight yet.”

“If you’re tired, we can go. ‘Ye need t’ take care of yourself.”

“I think I can handle being a bit sleepy,” she reassured him.

“Yea, but you need all the rest ‘ye can get. Baby’ll be here soon.”

‘Harry, I promise you that staying up until midnight just one time is not going to hurt me or the baby. I’m good. Promise,” she finished with a loving pat on the part of his chest that was exposed from his unbuttoned blouse.

Harry reluctantly nodded in agreement, relaxing his tensed muscles as he made himself comfortable once more against the wall.

“Can’t believe we’re gonna be parents soon. Gonna have our own baby,” he muttered lowly so that only she could hear. 

“I know. Hopefully, all of those years of taking care of Lux will pay off. I guarantee any child of yours will be a handful, to say the least,” she teased.

Harry faked a dramatic gasp, letting his mouth fall agape and putting his hand over his chest as if what his sweet wife has just said had given his heart a proper break.

“Can’t believe this. M’ own wife.”

There was no need to apologize, they were both used to countless nagging and teasing from each other over the years.

“You’re gonna be a good dad, Harry,” she sighed.

Harry presses a soft kiss to her hair, so featherlight that it was almost undetectable.

“‘N you’re gonna be the best mum. The hottest mum,” he said as his hand slipped south to grab a handful of his wife’s bum which caused her to shriek.

“Harry! We’re in public,” she hissed.

“So? It’s not a secret how much I love ye’. We’re married. Remember? ‘ve written plenty of songs about ya in case you’ve forgotten,” he toyed as he returned his hand back to its proper position around her waist.

The commotion between Harry pinching his lady’s bum had collected an audience, a handful of eyes focusing on the envious and jovial banter between the couple.

It was true, they were the couple everyone aspired to be like. They lasted the test of time. No number of long months apart from each other could dwindle the flame that was their love. It only strengthened the ravenous fire that coursed through their hearts for one another. They had done it right, in their minds at least. They’d gotten their lives together, made sure they were steady and stable before they settled down and decided to marry and have children.

Harry genuinely thought for the longest that he’d never have this. This perfect life and this perfect wife and, soon, a perfect little baby to call his own. He’d always thought that if he ever had children, it would be unplanned. That eventually one of his one night stands would fall pregnant, leaving his child to grow up under less than ideal circumstances. He never thought he’d be where he is today, where he’s always wanted to be.

Time slipped away from the couple and before they knew it, shouting from everyone else in the room signified that the new year was just seconds away. Reluctantly, Harry and his wife pulled themselves from their own bubble they had created away from the party and joined the rest of the group.

“FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE...HAPPY NEW YEAR!” was shouted in unison as a handmade balloon and confetti drop fell from the ceiling and covered the guests as they cheered and kissed their loved ones.

“Have your first kiss of the new year wi’ me? Please,” Harry turned to his wife, wrapping both arms around her sides.

“Only because you asked nicely,” she laughed.

As her fingers linked around Harry’s neck, he pulled her into him. The kiss was tender and sweet, just like his love for her. As they pulled away, Harry rubbed one hand over her swollen stomach and spoke again.

“Think we’re ready for this year?”

His wife brushed away a piece of the metallic star-shaped confetti from his forehead and tucked his stray hairs behind his ear just like she had done plenty of times in their years of being together. The smile on her face was soft and wise, his favorite type of smile, and Harry swears that he can see her glowing despite how dark it is in the room. She’s perfect. Her belly is perfect. Their baby is perfect. They’re perfect.

“I have a feeling we’ll be alright,” she whispered quietly before kissing him once more.

In this moment, just as every other moment, with his hand resting on top of his wife’s baby bump, Harry wishes he could stay like this forever.

[ignitesthestxrs]

Hello! I know you’ve left grishaverse behind. But the news of the second season has me comparing books vs show again. If you feel like it: what were your thoughts on the different characterization choices with Alina and the Darkling between both?

They just seemed like very different characters even though they were ostensibly doing the same stuff. And frankly I was pretty bummed out about it. I feel like they tried to make the Darkling more palatable, which kind of ended up seeming like they didn’t understand why he sucks? (like the discourse about making the winter fete scene more consensual when alllll the false pretenses kind of makes that consent pointless, she doesn’t know who she’s actually dealing with).

And just idk the whole thing with Alina being the cause for a bunch of people dying on the fold because she destroyed the reconnaissance/maps they had so she could be with Mal and the army. And… never addressing it or feeling bad about it lol.

Sorry I realize this is more me talking at you and if you have no opinions either way, no worries. I just got annoyed about how much potential both the books and show had all over again.

is anything ever truly left behind? aka i am incapable of letting go of the things i loved once even if i have a complicated relationship with them now that really isn't love but more nostalgia for the love i once had that has long since expired--

yeah lol the characterisation in the show was: silly. on multiple fronts! definitely the ones you have mentioned!

Alina: didn't like, have a character in the show? you get such a sense of her personality in the book (grumpy cat) and she's defensive and self conscious and unconvinced of her own worth, and the whole point is that she grows into her powers? you get none of that work in the show, and none of the meaner/ruder sides of her personality. there's no...indication of what she wants or what she's working for (which tbf could come from the book, but the book has its first person pov to support her personality in a way that a show just can't do. we'll never get in her head the way a book can, so the show needed to give us SOMETHING).

the show really just felt like 'things happen to alina so much and she reacts like :O each time and sometimes makes a concentrating face'.

and the darkling LOL honestly they so aggressively missed the point of his character that he is simply a different person. like, they made a fundamental change to his motives and made it seem as though he's really in love with Alina at this point, which just categorically doesn't make any sense? the whole deal with the darkling in the first point is that he's using her, and that's a part of the tension in their relationship. this is an older man intentionally seducing a teenager lol it's Problematique and that's the point! it's supposed to be a problem! you haven't fixed anything by making it more ~genuine~ you've just made it weirder actually.

and yeah the absolute nonsense of trying to add consent to a scene that is non-consensual by its nature?? having the darkling like, ask more permission or having alina girlboss her way through the kiss like - it does nothing to change the fundamental issue with the scene, which is that the darkling is actively lying to alina and keeping things from her that would mean she would not make the choice to kiss him if she knew about them! you don't get points for asking politely when you're actively grooming someone to be obsessed with you lol

(and also, the darkling telling her his real name at his stage in their story? again, it's supposed to sell the fact that he has real affect for her, which i guess the show thinks makes everything more palatable, but it's senseless - what reason does this powerful ancient man have to be really affected by alina at this point? he tells her his name in the books as a manipulation tactic, but also not until a point where they've done real harm to each other and are caught in this mutual obsession like, it has weight and meaning at that point! in the show it just comes up as a random Thing like ok darkles)

the tHING WHERE ALINA GETS ALL HER FRIENDS KILLED like oh man that would have been a really good and interesting change to the books and to making alina more of an active participant in her own story if! it had ever! been addressed again! but we get no indication that this has any effect on her or the world state or the story beyond the episode it takes place in, it's silly.

i also think they did mal a real disservice in the show, and i adored show mal. but like, the whole point of mal in the first book is that he's just a dude, you know? he's a dude that alina loves, and who loves alina, but he has to learn that he'd do anything for her, you know? that's why his second book arc is important and interesting the way it is, and why his third book arc makes sense at all. they've taken all the teeth out of his story by making him adoringly devoted to alina without questioning her choices or decisions or doubting her in anyway. and it feels like they did that in order to counter the book fandom tendency to just virulently hate him without basis, which i get, but it does make for a less nuanced and interesting character for him.

but yeah overall i found the show a slog lol, i only got through it because i was watching with friends, and i don't know if we're going to do the second season to ourselves or not. we'll see i spose!

[harrysgoldenline]

can i get a harry one shot where you are really insecure about the whole album/ camille thing and u talk to sarah about it and ur crying and harry notices and comes over but u run away and sarah tells him everything and he comes to find you but you pretend like ur fine but he sees through it and he goes off on this lone speech about how much he loves you and how ur the only person he will ever love and u both are just happy it’s out and the open and a happy ending ?

OMG MY FIRST REQUEST!! YES OF COURSE! I REALLY REALLY REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT ! and if anyone else has any requests, send them my way!!! :)

——————————————————————————

My Muse

Y/N was distraught.

She loved Harry, his music, his career and could not be more proud of him, his success and who he has become.

Although, she was struggling.

This whole album has been about Harry discovering himself, who he is... but also about his ex-girlfriend Camille.

Y/N knew about Harry everything he went through after their relationship ended, he was struggling greatly. They met around half a year after the break up, but she could see Harry was still struggling. She could see how he would keep to himself around new people, especially out in public. He was quite and wouldn’t speak out much, very different then how their mutual friend, Sarah had always described him.

Sarah has always talked highly of him, being in his band they grew very close and she often got to see how he went through his different writing processes. She saw him before and after shows and she knew him before and after Camille. Something Y/N could not relate to.

As time passed, the two got together, forming what their friends called a power couple. Harry and Y/N were completely inseparable, growing closer and closer as each day passed.

Harry opened up to her a few months into the relationship, sitting her down and letting her know exactly what happened in the relationship and why it was so difficult for him when it ended. He told her that since it was a huge part of the album, he might have to talk about it a bit, without saying names of course but she knew that everyone else already knew who he was going to be talking about.

“It’s okay, Harry. I totally understand. Don’t worry about it.” She would always say, giving him a smile and a soft kiss onto his jawline.

Y/N wasn’t lying, she did understand why and she didn’t want him to worry about her, not now. Not when his second album is taking off, hitting the top of the charts in preorder alone.

She did enjoy the majority of interviews. Hearing him tell funny stories of the writing process, or always getting emotional as he opens up about finding himself, his true sound and how he doesn’t feel like he needs to hold back anymore. But interview after interview, it got harder. Hearing him talk about the love he felt and then the unbearable pain after it was gone. She felt inadequate. Wondering if nothing went wrong, where would she be? Would Harry still fall for her when Sarah introduced him like he said he did?

Although, Y/N never brought up these concerns to him. Especially after the album drop he was on top of the world, explaining how he has never felt happier and more free, but she couldn’t help thinking if he would be happier with her by his side instead.

“Y/N, are you alright?” A voice brings her out, looking up and seeing Sarah standing there at the door, offering her a soft smile.

“Oh hi! Yeah, I’m totally fine don’t worry about me.” She nodded, looking back at the monitor, watching Harry messing around on stage with Mitch after finishing up a soundcheck nearly a minute ago. They often liked to stay for a while, messing around on stage, this often gave Sarah and Y/N sometime to catch up as their boys hung out together.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing as she sat next to her on the couch, “Cmon (Y/N), you know you can trust me with anything.”

“How’d Harry do?” She asked, trying to ease in, hearing Harry strum in the background to Cherry, causing Y/N to bite her bottom lip.

“Good... was just a sound check. Everything running fine- seriously what’s going on?” Sarah insisted, interrupting herself.

“What was he like? With her?”

A silence fills the room until Sarah let’s out a sigh, muttering a soft ‘oh honey’ before scooting closer, arms going around her friend protectively. Sarah knew she was struggling, but with it being such a difficult subject, she didn’t want to pry too much. She wanted to wait until Y/N was ready to confide in her, but instead she bottled it up.

“Fuck, sorry I shouldn’t have asked thats... sorry it’s none of my business.” Y/N quickly says, forcing a laugh and wiping her eyes, standing up quickly and going to look for her purse.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I know how hard this has been for you.” Her friend agrees, standing and following her, “have you and Harry talked about it? Talked about how this has been for you?”

Y/N shook her head, biting her lip hard as her eyes were squeezed shut, knowing if she spoke a word she would break down, she had been holding it in for too long.

“Do you wanna talk about it with him?”

She shrugged at this, honestly not knowing the answer. If she did, she didn’t know if Harry would stop all together, making his album less authentic or If he would be upset she held it in, or even said anything about it at all. But she genuinely didn’t know if she could hold it in any longer.

“You can tell me.” Sarah nodded, hugging her tightly, “let it out.”

“It hurts” Y/N breaks, letting out a sob, “it seems like- like all he talks about is her! And I know he wrote this whole thing before we met and- do you think he still loves her?”

“Y/N, no.” She says, pulling her back and wiping the tears from her friends face, “I’ve seen this man before, during and after both of you, and I have never seen him this happy. Ever”

She shakes her head, not believing her. “It can’t be me. It’s the album, the success! He’s himself now, so that’s what’s making him happy. I didn’t help him- she did.”

“Y/N stop” Sarah demanded, grabbing her shoulders and moving her hair out of her face, “Harry is in love with you! I remember him coming to me, asking me for advice when you went out on your first date.”

She shakes her head, disbelief and doubt being pumped through her veins, “it just doesn’t make sense! Look at her and then look at me. Who would you choose?”

“You”

“Stop.” She argues, rolling her eyes, “she’s skinnier and prettier and older! She’s way older than me, way older than him. Is that what he wants? I’m younger than him, Sarah. Young enough where there’s a million articles about it.”

“You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t calm down.” Sarah demands, “please? Just calm down and we can talk about this. What does your age have to do with anything? You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

“No, I should stop. Mitch and Harry will be back any second.” She sniffles, looking at herself in the mirror and sighing, dabbing at the skin around her eyes to try and depuff them.

“You can’t hold this in.” Sarah whispers, hugging her friend again, “please? Talk to me?”

“I love him and it’s scary because I don’t know-“ Y/N begins but quickly stops, hearing her boyfriends loud laughter, soon getting louder as he opened the door.

Y/N shoots Sarah a sympathetic look, silently begging her to remain quiet and not say a word, which she nods, giving Mitch and Harry a smile as they walk in the door, each boy going to each of them.

“Hey babe!” Harry smirks, kissing her before pulling back, eyebrows furrowing together and he lowers his voice, “are you alright? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“I’m okay!” She smiles, “poked my eye when I was fixing my makeup. Anyways, what are you guys up to?”

“We were gonna go grab some food before the show! Where do you wanna go?” He asks, hands going around her waist.

“Oh I’m not hungry.” She quickly responds, “been feeling a bit off all day so I might stay behind. I wanna feel better for your show.”

Harry frowns, pulling her closer to him before leading her out of the lounge room, leaving Mitch and Sarah as they continue their own conversation. Harry leads her off to his private dressing room.

“What’s up?” He frowns, lifting his hand to her face and rubbing her cheek softly, “what happened?”

“Nothing, Harry.” She smiles, her heart growing at his concern. Yet, she knows she can’t tell him. Not now, hours before his mini Fine Line show in London. The last thing she wants to be is a distraction, “don’t worry about me, really! And I feel like I’ve been budging in too much, go bond with the band!”

“You’re not interrupting anything. I want you here.”

“I know and I appreciate that, really, love being around you and everybody.” She giggles, “but I’m not gonna be there the whole tour and I gotta get used to that.”

“I wish you could be.” He frowns, pulling her right against his chest, “always want you next to me.... or below me.”

“Harry!” She laughed, pulling back and playfully pushing him, “you’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you, my love.” He dopily smirks, kissing her, softly.

She giggled against his lips, pulling him closer for another, each kiss making her worries drift further and further away. Mind reeling as his hands fall down her waist, gripping her bum as he pushes her closer, his lips falling down to her neck.

“Hey man, Sar-“ Mitchs voice causing them to jump away from each other, the three of them turning red as he clears his throat, “Um- sorry. I was just saying that Sarah said she’s gonna take a nap before the show too so I think it’s just just gonna be us and the other guys.”

“Sounds good!” He smirks, feeling a bit smug after what Mitch just walked in on, he turns back to Y/N, tucking a hair behind her ear, “you can stay in here if you want, lock the door and take a nap or whatever you need. Nobody should bother you and I’ll be back before you know it. Okay?”

She nodded, thanking him before pressing a kiss to his lips, “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you more, babygirl.” He smiles, kissing the top of her head before waving goodbye, following Mitch out.

She sighs, falling back on the couch and closing her eyes, mind muddled with confusion. Moments like that make her feel so silly, wondering why she ever worried in the first place. She does trust Harry, she doesn’t worry about him going out to try and find someone else, but she always wonders if he prefers to be with her, just has Y/N because he doesn’t have that option anymore.

She can’t help but lay awake, spending many sleepless nights just comparing herself to her. Camille was beautiful, and nobody could deny that. She had such grace and Y/N felt like her French accent and demeanor made her much more interesting then her own plain American ways. She wonders if Harry wishes Y/N was older, rather than being multiple years younger. She wondered if it annoyed him, bothered him that she had a great lack of experience. Harry was all she’d ever known and all she wants forever.

But did he feel the same? Did he actually love her? Does he actually find her as beautiful as he said? She found it hard to believe, especially seeing all he has had in the past. It makes her feel guilty, guilty for feeling so upset and hurt by seeing and hearing about people he was with prior, even though they’d never met at the time.

The door swings open, startling her and causing her to jump and heart to pound as she prepared what she would say next to Sarah, but it wasn’t her, it was Harry.

“What? What are you doing here?” She rushes, clutching her chest to try and calm her racing heart, I thought you were going to get food? Did you forget something?”

“Yes.” He mumbles, sinking down onto the couch next to her and holding her face in his hands, “I forgot to tell you how important you are to me. More than any album, place on the charts, anything.”

“W-what? Where is this coming from, Bubs?”

“Sarah told me what you said to her.” He frowns, eyes sparkling, “and I’m the biggest fucking arsehole I didn’t stop to talk to you about it once. To stop and actually ask you about it.”

“Harry, really, I’m just being-“

“Y/N listen, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re my person. You’re it for me.” He whispers, leaning his forehead against her, tears forming in her eyes as she’s filled with so many emotions, “you gotta believe me, lovie.”

“I love you, Harry.” She sniffles, “I believe you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is all my fault. I should’ve talked to you more, I didn’t even think about how hard this would be for you, I’m so sorry.” He rambles, “you are the love of my life Y/N. Yes, I was in love before but this? With you? It’s so strong and real and terrifying. I’ve never felt this before. I want to be with you. Forever. Nobody else. And I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am to not have made that clear.”

“I should’ve told you from the beginning how I felt.” She admits, “I don’t want you to stop talking about it in interviews if that’s what you want to say, you should say it. It’s just really hard to hear you talk about her all the time.”

“I’m sorry my love. I don’t deserve you, don’t deserve your support.” He whispers, kissing her hands, “I am so beyond lucky to have you. You are the most beautiful, kind, considerate woman in the whole world. I don’t know how I got you.”

“Stop it.” She blushes, bringing her hands away from his lips and up to his face, shaking her head in disbelief, wondering how he even existed, “you are truly the most perfect man.”

“Now you stop.” He chuckles, cheeks turning pink, “I’m praising you here... really though love. You are my muse. I have millions of songs written about you.”

“Really?” She whispers, eyes wide, “you’re not just saying that?”

“What do you think Mitch and I are doing all the time?” He laughs, “we make Sarah go because we know she’d tell!”

“Well you’re right, because she told you what I said after I told her not too.” She blushes, looking down at her lap.

“Oh stop that you know she did the right thing.” He laughs, dragging her a bit closer to him so her legs lay over his lap, “Honestly, I was scared to show you them, thought I was open before wait till you hear these.”

“Can I? Can I hear them? Please?”

“I guess since you have good manners.” He smirks, pulling her on top of him. She giggles and he pulls her onto his lap, “you can hear ‘em all. Don’t know what I was waiting for... guess I was just scared?”

“Of what, Bubby?” She frowns, arms resting around his shoulders as she looks up at him.

“I don’t know... I just... I know you’re the one, so it’s kinda scary I guess...not knowing if you feel the same.”

“I do.” She squeaks, “I love you so much- wanna be with you forever.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, squeezing her hips tight causing her to squeal, falling into him, “I’ve been yours since the day we met. You inspire me, Y/N. You are my muse. I’d choose you over anyone. You are my priority.”

He leans in, kissing her softly, almost as if he was afraid of breaking her in two. His lips fell to her neck, sucking on her favorite spot and her grip tightened on him, head falling to the side a bit and she lets out a soft whimper.

“Harry, please...” she squeaked, hips pressing down into him involuntarily.

“I’m gonna take care of you.” He whispers lowly, pulling up the bottom of her dress and over her head, “gonna take care of you until the day I die, my love.”

[artificialqueens]

You Light a Fire in My Heart (Rosénali) - Moonshot

A/N: I wasn’t expecting to write a follow-up to the first diner au this fast but I’ve genuinely fallen in love with the little au verse I’ve created. For context, this is set about a year after the events of ‘On The Ground’, and it spans across three months (March, April, and May). Flashbacks are in italics, and I hope you enjoy it x

Summary: The time(s) Rosé tried to be the best girlfriend to her Nali

Also on Ao3

-

If you had told Rosé a year ago that she would be dating one of the most amazing girls she’d ever met in her life, she would have believed you. Who wouldn’t want to date a fine bonnie lass like her?

What she wouldn’t have believed would have been that she was admittedly a tiny bit jealous of her girlfriend’s crush for a K-pop singer that shared her name.

Rosé was working on her laptop, busy mixing a track she had recorded with Jan and Lagoona when Denali had walked into the living room.

“OH MY GOD! I just finished watching Blackpink’s interview with James Corden and Rosé’s got the CUTEST accent! Her Aussie accent is so sexy too…” she remembered her girlfriend saying as she walked into her living room, her eyes glued to the phone in her hand.

“Hey!”, the pink-haired girl puffed out, “my Scottish accent is sexy too!”

Denali looked up, her left brow raised, “Says who?”, she asked teasingly.

“…My grandma”, Rosé replied unconvincingly, causing her girlfriend to laugh out loud.

“My Rosie is so cute when she’s jealous!”, she sing-sang, stamping a sloppy kiss on the older girl’s cheek.

“I’m not!”, she huffed as the black-haired girl sat next to her on the couch.

“You know she’s not my favorite in the group. Wanna know why?” Denali asked, draping her arms around Rosé’s neck.

“Why?”.

“Because you’ll always be my favorite Rosie”, she whispered in her girlfriend’s ear.

Rosé was sure her cheeks were matching colors with the shade of pink of her hair.

“Cheesy bitch”, she muttered as Denali hid her face in the crook of her neck.

“Yours truly”.

She remembered letting her girlfriend rest on her chest, the sweet strawberry scent of Denali’s shampoo filling her nose as she tried to focus on the track she was working on. 

However, another thought was buzzing in her head. 

The brunette’s birthday - the first one since they had started dating - was coming up soon and Rosé had absolutely no idea what to get her. 

Dedicating her a song, while definitely in her range, was too obvious of a gift. She really wanted to surprise her, to give her something she would remember for years to come.

With less than a month to the date, Rosé decided to go to the very familiar diner to pick up something quick to eat before going to grab the equipment she needed for her weekly set across the street. 

As she walked up to the register to pay up after having grabbed some pastries, she couldn’t help but notice the absence of a familiar face. She was sure Denali was set to be on shift at that hour.

Her attention was drawn back to the guy behind the counter.

“Hey, gorge! Looking for me?”, Mik asked as he took the pastry bag from the pink-haired girl.

Rosé rolled her eyes playfully, “Hey to you too, Mik,” she replied as she took out some cash, “Sorry to burst your bubble, short king, I was just wondering where my lovely girlfriend is”.

The shorter guy shrugged, “Your loss. I’m always open for a tall glamazon like you, gorge”, he winked before presenting her the receipt, “it will be 4,99$ for that, and also Nali was allowed to go home early by Miss Iman because she was trying to get tickets for some concert, I think?”

Rosé gave a little nod of acknowledgment and was handing over the cash when a voice caught her attention.

“Oh, no!”, both Mik and Rosé turned their head to another of the diner staff, Olivia, who was looking down at her phone pouting, “Nali just texted me saying that the Blackpink show in Chicago she wanted to go to sold out before she was able to get a standing ticket and the VIP ones are too expensive for her! Oh, poor baby Nali”.

“What other tour dates are they doing?” the singer asked, an idea forming in her head.

The other girl furrowed her brows, trying to remember, “Well, Nali wanted to go to the Chicago one with some of her friends there, that one was in mid-May. If I’m not mistaken, they are doing one in Newark at the end of May, and then the other ones are down south and on the west coast as well? Pretty big tour from what she has told me”.

“Wow, that’s an impressive gig,” Rosé commented, genuinely surprised.

She grabbed the paper bag from the counter, waving goodbye to the two employees, “Well, divas, I’ll leave you to do your jobs. Thanks for the info, I guess my set has to be delayed a bit to deliver these to my girl, and hope to cheer her up a bit, wish me luck!” 

The other two waved her off as she exited the diner. 

The pink-haired girl grabbed her phone from her purse and quickly texted Jan and Lagoona to meet her at her place after her set. 

Maybe she had just found the perfect birthday present for her Nali.

Rosé and Lagoona were sitting at the kitchen table, the Scottish girl’s computer between them open on the ticketing site while Jan was busy gushing with her girlfriend over the phone in the living room.

The blue-haired girl stared at the laptop, clicking her tongue, “Is that the VIP price for both…?”

“Nope, just one. I could afford to get only one VIP ticket for her so she’ll get to enjoy it all by herself”, Rosé replied.

“Holy shit, I fucking wish you were this in love with me to spend that much money for my birthday!” Lagoona commented jokingly before noticing a small detail, “Wait, did you see the date of the concert?”

The pink-haired girl nodded, “Yes, I am aware that the concert happens to be on my birthday. However, this is an opportunity I can’t let Nali give up on,” she reasoned, “Also, I plan on spending many more birthdays with her, so her spending mine doing something she loves makes me happy as well”.

Lagoona shot up and started reaching for kitchen drawers, seemingly looking for something.

“Can I know what the fuck are you doing?”, Rosé asked, arching her manicured brow.

“Looking for a whip because you’re fucking whipped for the girl! I can’t believe it!”, her best friend cackled, actively avoiding the kitchen towel thrown at her.

“Oh, fuck you, bitch!”, the pink-haired girl said in return, unable to hide her own grin at the situation.

At that moment, their purple-haired friend entered the room, saying her goodbyes over the phone before she sat down on the opposite side of Rosé.

“Oh look, who decided to join us!” Lagoona teased as she sat back next to the Scottish girl, “how was the call with the sugar mommy?”

Jan blushed furiously, “Shush, you two! Jackie’s not my sugar mommy! She just… happens to be richer and older than me. Also, she called me because she’s stressed from organizing this big event in May and needed some advice!”, she blurted out, only causing the other two to laugh even harder.

“Yeah, sure whatever you say, Stuntalina the sugar baby. C’mon, I’ve got a new piece I wrote for us to show you!”, Rosé said as she closed the ticket receipt.

She opened her music editing program, pressed play on the last recorded file.

While her best friends were busy enjoying the new song she produced, Rosé checked her phone to find a new text from Denali.

10:52 PM:

thank u so much for the pastries, I really needed them today. You always know how to cheer me up. Goodnight my Rosie <3

The singer smiled. 

She couldn’t wait to show Denali her birthday present.

Denali was lying down on the couch, her eyes on her best friend - and soon-to-be ex-roommate - as she packed the last few things she needed to move out.

“I still can’t believe you’re moving out,” the brunette pouted, “You’re leaving me allllll aloooooooneeeee”, she said dramatically.

“Nali, you’re acting as if I’m moving across the country”, Olivia chuckled, “I’m literally moving in with Utica and Symone, and they live across the street”.

The Alaskan skater threw her head back, “So close, yet so far”.

The younger girl rolled her eyes, reaching for a silver sharpie before throwing it to Denali, “Okay, miss Dramanali. Will you get your ass up and help me finish labeling these boxes?”

It took them a little over an hour to have most of Olivia’s things labeled and boxed, ready to be taken to their new home.

A bottle of soju later, they sat together on the couch in front of the TV as they ate some take-out for dinner, reminiscing of their time as roommates.

“It’s going to be weird to live alone,” Denali confessed as she took a piece of kimbap with her steel chopsticks, “We’ve been roommates ever since I literally moved in from Chicago. But I know it’s the right thing for you, you know”.

Olivia nodded, “I didn’t expect it to take this turn, I mean, I started it out a year ago single and now I’m dating not just one but two of the most awesome people I know?”

“I remember you being bummed when Utica started dating Symone. I sneaked out way too much ice cream from the diner to cheer you up, but look at you now, dating both Utica and Symone, moving in with them? You won the jackpot, Liv!”, the older girl replied, smacking her free hand against the other girl’s thigh.

“Girl, I could say the same about you and miss Rosie. All lovey-dovey, sweet kisses and I love you’s”, Olivia winked as she saw Denali’s cheeks take a pink tint.

“Actually…”, the skater confessed, “she technically hasn’t said the big L word out loud, not like that at least”.

Denali was sure Olivia’s eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, “WHAT?”

The brunette smiled shyly.

“It’s just… this past year everything has been so perfect with her and what if forcing her to say it will ruin that?”

“Nali, baby, the girl basically lives here. Do I have to remind you just how many times I’ve walked in on you two doing the whole devil’s tango while she looks at you like a lovesick puppy and you are worried about her not saying I love you back?”

The Alaskan girl tried to lighten the mood, “To our defense, you did say that you were spending the night out and that movie was very intense-”

“Nali…”

“I love her, Liv. Like really really love her. And I do see a future with her, but she is such a free spirit, someone who says and does things her own way and I’m worried that I’m going to scare her away,” Denali bit her lower lip, trying her best to not let the emotions get the best of her.

The younger girl took her hand, “Do you remember what I told you that day at the rink when you were scared to ask her out?”

“That you would unleash Kandy on her?”

They both chuckled.

“That’s still on the table if she breaks your heart,” Olivia replied honestly, holding Denali’s hand, “I told you to give it a chance. Tell her about how you feel your relationship is heading, and I got a feeling that she feels the same as you do”.

The two friends savored the moment, only the sound coming from outside the window to fill the void.

Denali was the first one to speak up after a couple of minutes of silence, “See? Who am I supposed to have those heart-to-heart conversations with if I’m alone? The wall?”

Olivia laughed out loud, “The cat lady that lives on the first floor sure seems like a good replacement for me!”

“Donut would run away before I could even let her in, girl”.

“True that,” she took another bite of her rice bowl before setting it down and getting up from the couch, “maybe, after you have your talk with your pink highlighter girlfriend in time for your birthday next week, she can babysit your pillow princess ass!” 

Denali’s mouth was wide open in shock but unable to restrain the laughter. 

“Liv! How dare you!” she said as the younger girl bolted into her room, prompting a not-so-sober chase.

They would totally be getting an angry noise complaint the next day.

Denali felt like her birthday went faster than she would have liked.

It had started with a call from her mom while her friends were trying to make her breakfast in bed - emphasis on trying - only to end up ordering delivery from the bakery two blocks down the street. 

Since she would have still had to work that day, they had opted to hang out at her place the night before, waiting up to midnight to wish her a happy birthday. 

What Denali was really looking forward to was the cute night-in her girlfriend had promised along with her mysterious birthday gift that was seemingly months in the making.

Having barely made it home from the diner, the brunette had just taken off her jacket and scarf when she heard a familiar knock pattern on her door.

She smiled as she was greeted by a small bouquet of forget-me-nots, a bag seemingly full of takeaway boxes, and a bottle of Rosé.

“Isn’t it cannibalism if you drink Rosé?” she teased, letting her girlfriend in the apartment and closing the door behind her.

“I’m letting that slide because it’s your birthday, baby,” the pink-haired girl replied as she set everything down on the kitchen counter.

Denali took a moment to take in how her Rosie looked.

The signature pink leather jacket was open to reveal a very deep low cut top that left close to nothing to the imagination. The black high-waisted jeans hugged her curves in a way that drove Denali crazy just to think about. 

“Liking the view, mama?”, Rosé’s smirk was one of the few things able to make her weak to her knees like that.

“You’re a tease-y bitch”

“Thank you for noticing”, she winked as she walked over to Denali and sneaked her arms around her girlfriend’s waist, towering over her thanks to the pumps she was wearing.

The brunette couldn’t help but smile as she wrapped her arms around Rosé’s neck, getting on her tippy toes to kiss her.

“Happy birthday, my angel”, she whispered against her lips before her strong arms picked Denali up with a small yelp from the younger girl.

“What about dinner?”, she chuckled.

“I’m in a mood to eat something else right now…”, Rosé simply said as she reconnected their lips and started taking her girlfriend to the familiar bedroom.

Denali lied with her head on Rosé’s chest like she always did after they slept together. She could fall asleep just with how the older girl was gently combing her hair with her fingers.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, mama. You still got my birthday gift to open up”, she whispered, making Denali chuckle.

“What? Wasn’t the mind-blowing sex your birthday present?” she teased.

She could feel Rosé smile against her hair, “Thanks for the ego boost, diva, but I think you’ll like the real present more”

She went to reach for the pink jacket on the floor, taking out an envelope and giving it to Denali.

“What is this?”

“Open it up and find out for yourself”

The brunette straightened herself, not caring about the sheets pooling at her waist, and opened the present.

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“You’re kidding me?!”

“Well, it’s not my fault your birthday happens to be on April Fool’s day but it’s all real, angel”, Rosé smiled at her.

“Ahhh! VIP Tickets for Blackpink’s concert?! I love you!”, Denali blurted out and went on to hug her girlfriend.

When she felt the older girl get slightly stiff, she realized just what she had blurted out and did what she did best: she panicked.

“Oh gosh, sorry I didn’t-”

Rosé didn’t reply, just went on cupping her face to calm her down.

“Baby, it’s okay. Don’t ever feel sorry for how you feel”, she reassured, kissing her forehead, “I just… don’t have the best track record when it comes to being told those three little words. I know how strongly I feel about you. I just want to mean it 100% when I say it, okay?”

Denali nodded, not trusting her words as she knew how hard it was for her girlfriend to talk about her feelings.

Rosé tilted her head, “Now, let me snuggle my…”, she looked over Denali’s shoulder, the clock read 11:05 PM, “birthday girl for another hour”.

She went on to press her girlfriend’s body against hers. She let a couple of minutes pass, making sure that the shorter girl had calmed down.

“Sing me to sleep, Rosie?”, she heard the faintest voice coming from the younger girl, whose arms held her sides tightly.

“Anything for you, angel”.

Almost two months later, Denali couldn’t believe she was actually there, waiting under the smaller stage for the concert to begin.

The soundcheck had been overwhelming, she definitely had almost cried when the girls waved at her section of the crowd. She was sure Lisa was waving at her.

She had even managed to become friends with some of the other fans in the VIP section, having gone to the concert alone - she still was a bit sad that she was missing Rosé’s birthday but understood the argument that this was one in a lifetime opportunity that she couldn’t pass on. 

“I can’t believe how close we are to the stage!” one of the girls to Denali’s right, Sakura, commented, “Based on the videos from the other dates, this is definitely the best side to be on, especially during Lisa’s dance solo!”

“Girl, I know! I’m ready to see her shake that ass!” Denali replied, making both of them chuckle.

“Oh, is that how it is, mama?”

Denali froze.

Was that…

“Rosie?”

There was her girlfriend, sporting the VIP tag around her neck and around her wrist.

“How did you get in? I thought you didn’t manage to get another ticket?”, while she was beyond ecstatic to see her girlfriend there with her at the concert, she was also very confused.

“Up until a couple of hours ago, I didn’t have it, so that was as much of a surprise to you as it is to you,” she smiled, “Remember I told you about how Jan’s girlfriend was busy organizing a big event?” she asked as she recollected what had just happened hours prior.

Both Rosé and Lagoona were sitting on the former girl’s couch, watching reruns of America’s Got Talent and commenting how there would totally be no competition if they decided to audition.

Jan walked in, sipping on her frappuccino, “I know you love us but why aren’t you spending your birthday with your girlfriend?”

“I told you she’s at that Blackpink’s concert today” Rosé reminded her, lowering the TV volume.

“Blackpink? Oh! That’s the project Jackie was helping with organizing. She even offered me a full VIP ticket. Do you want it? It’s barely 3 PM, you just missed the soundcheck”.

The two friends sitting on the couch looked at each other, then at Jan, then back at each other before bolting up from the couch.

“COULDN’T HAVE YOU SAID SOMETHING EARLIER, JANICE?”

“I can’t believe it, Jan is really something else,” Denali smiled, now feeling that everything was complete.

“Me neither, baby. That girl is a mystery,” Rosé replied as she positioned herself behind her shorter girlfriend to hug her from behind, kissing Denali’s cheek “Now, I can check out my competition with the other Rosie in your life”, she joked.

“I promise you’ll be a Blink by the end of the night,” Denali said confidently, melting against the embrace.

“We’ll see about that, little diva”.

When people said time flies by when you’re having fun, Denali just realized how fast.

The concert was a rollercoaster of emotions, from the powerful beginning to the member’s solos - she definitely didn’t miss her girlfriend’s ‘mom dancing’ behind her. 

And now, the soft guitar notes of Hope Not filled the stadium. The ballad had always been one of Denali’s favorites, those raw emotions she had felt so many times were being so beautifully sang out loud and it made her teary-eyed.

Rosé kept her arms secured around her waist, rocking her from side to side. The brunette closed her eyes, fully letting the song guide her.

That’s when she heard Rosé’s voice in her ear, so quiet yet overpowering everything else.

“I love you”.

Denali’s eyes shot open and quickly turned around to be met with the most beautiful smile Rosé had ever given to her, she could only see pure love in her eyes staring back at her. 

She hadn’t even realized the tears spilled down her cheeks as she went in to connect their lips.

Nothing else mattered to her at that moment.

It was just her and her Rosie.

The warm autumn air filled Denali’s living room as they cuddled on the couch, watching a movie.

It was almost midnight when the end credits started rolling, the younger girl was already half-asleep, clinging to her girlfriend like a koala bear.

Rosé turned off the TV and turned her attention to her girlfriend, “C’mon, little diva, let go of me, I have to catch the bus home”.

Denali grunted, “Noooo, don’t leave meee,” she protested, her cheek firmly against Rosé’s chest.

“I gotta get home, baby”, the pink-haired girl tried to reason.

“This is your home too. You should just move in already,” Denali replied, slugging her words.

Her heart skipped a beat. 

Rosé stopped for a moment to think about it. She smiled looking down at her girlfriend’s serene face. 

She definitely could see herself wanting to wake up to that every day for a long time.

Denali woke up in her bed the following day, not remembering how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the couch with-

She shot up and went to the kitchen. She found a still-warm cup of coffee and a note.

She almost choked on the drink as she read the small piece of paper.

I thought you’d never ask

to move in together

Get those papers ready, angel

Your Rosie

PS: we’ve some remodeling to do, mama

Denali couldn’t help the pink tint from erupting across her face. She definitely blamed her sleepy self for being so open with her girlfriend.

On the other side, she had to call her landlord.

Her search for a roommate was over for good.

[wevegottogetaway]

Thanks fo’ saving my ass (Part 2)

There is a part 3 coming, I think these two deserve the...culmination, but I wasn’t sure if I could have it ready soon enough. Stay tuned for more, hope you enjoy! x

Part 1   -   Part 3*

It starts with a resounding bang. A back curving over maple hardwood; taut muscle stretching soft cotton fabric; twin jades squinted in concentration; a shoulder blade protruding briefly for one swift determining movement. Red, blue, yellow, purple, orange phenolic resin scattering across green worsted wool like a dozen pinballs simultaneously kicked in various directions.

It ends with the deep echo. A ball falling into emptiness before meeting rock-bottom; the release of a soft withheld breath; firm flesh unflexing with satisfaction; two sets of glossy eyes meeting in a knowing look. "Nice break, Styles. Stripes it is," y/n happily comments once Harry leans back from the pool table.

Gibson’s is full of rowdy chatters, tipsy laughs and fulsome smiles. Strangers bonding for a night of undiluted carefreeness, clicking drinks after merry drinks in honor to their new ephemeral best friends. All sorrows have been forsaken on the coat rack at the entrance,  hung in insouciance, leaving nothing but good spirits to sit at the tables and loiter near the bar. Everything about this place is warm and nurturing, a cosy embrace after a tedious day, a home for the people that lets them nurse bottles and wounds alike, and sees them leave later on, cheerful, relaxed and healing. It took but a second for Harry to understand why y/n is so fond of the place and he was not surprised to find her on a first-name basis with the barmaid, the two of them catching up on life while she was preparing the drinks.

Now, fifteen minutes in, they’ve happily made their way to the vacant timeworn pool table at a secluded corner of the bar, drinks and grins in toe. The space is only lit up by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling, casting daedal shadows along the walls and across the table’s carpeted surface. The subdued light and music crooning in the background make for a suggestive atmosphere, air thick with limitless curiosity and enticing promises.

The corner of Harry’s lips quirks in a wry smile and a bold glint takes residence at the crease of his eyes; the telltale sign of a burgeoning idea brewing up in his cheeky mind. "What’dya say we make this a lil more interesting?" The offer is served with a raised brow, a hand on his waist, and one foot perched on its toes over the other as he leans against the cue.

From across the pool table, y/n is quite endeared at the sight but her response comes out in fake offense,"oh I’m sorry, am I boring you already?"

"Quite the opposite actually." His head tilts the slightest bit to the side, gaze unwavering from her face in a mission for persuasion.

Her lips grimace as she tries to suppress a betraying smile to no avail, "fine, I’m listening."

He grins victoriously at her inability to keep a straight face, his limbs dislodging from his casual pose. "We take turns," his motions at the space between them. "F’we pocket, we get to ask one question. No bullshit answer, jus’ the truth." His eyes are wide as he gauges her response.

"A question, huh?" she takes her time to contemplate the proposition just to watch him squirm in impatience. "Damn, for a sec I thought you were about to suggest strip-pool." She sends him a playful look as she walks the length of the table to step closer to him and have a better look at his chiseled features.

"I mean, m’totally down but might be a bit unfair on your part," his eyes briefly trail down her body in silent conveyance of her single-piece attire. He’s got much more material to shed before exposing skin than she does.

"Wouldn’t you like to know." The suggestive retort has Harry’s stomach churn with humid passion, the question of just how many layers she’s wearing exactly, playing with the most lascivious parts of his brain. "Not that it matters, you’d be butt-naked before you’d get a nip-slip."

"Overestimating yourself?"

"Just giving you fair warning," she shrugs in nonchalance running her fingers along the edge of the table, "so you know what you’re getting yourself into."

When she lifts her head back to connect their gaze again, she finds him biting at his bottom lip to contain his signature smirk, "no worries there, darlin’. M’all willing." He almost punctuates his retort with a salacious wink but decides to save it for a more opportune time. Something tells him he’s in for a long evening, not that it’s any cause for concern. Like he said, he is very much consenting to anything her heart desires to do to him.

"Good to know." Y/n quips back with a smile before leaning on her hand resting upon the pool table. "What’s your question then?"

For a moment, Harry forgets he just broke the rack and successfully sent a plain purple ball in one of the table’s pocket, taking him one step closer to victory and granting him one question as per his own proposition. He quickly gathers his reeling thoughts before settling on an easy inquiry, fingers fiddling with the desire to sketch every bit of her character. "Right um, do you have other hobbies besides playin- or should I say, winning pool?"

She wants to slap- or should she say, kiss the smug look off his lovely face, but her answers airs in the same level tone she employs at work, "yes I do."

It’s not enough for Harry’s archeologic curiosity though. He’s barely dusted off the ground beneath his feet to reveal the hint of new groundbreaking findings; armed with sieves and brushes, he is eager to dig a little further, "and what might those be?"

However, y/n is quick to rebuff him, "uh uh, that’s two questions."

Indignation soars through his straightened posture, as he cries out a faint ’what? no!’ and her own ego grows two size at her cunning deceit, "gotta up your game if you wanna keep that perky bum intact, Styles."

Earlier words resonate in the confines of his outfoxed mind then, you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and he tries really hard not to think about the promise following them. Instead he counterattacks in obvious diversion tactic, "that’s twice you’ve mentioned my ass in the past 5 minutes, perhaps I should read into it?"

"I guess you’ll have to wait and see," she lithely deflects as she grabs her own cue with a determined look etched upon her face, "my turn now."

With powerful strides, y/n navigates around the table to position herself at the most promising angle for a score of her own. Once she has both her target and the cue ball in firing line, she tunes out every last bit of stimulus encompassing her; the muffled sound of the music, the sticky oxygen filling up her lungs with sensual tension, the charming presence of the beau intently ogling her every move.

It barely takes her a couple seconds of intense concentration before a sharp thump is bouncing off the table and piercing through the air. The shot is so accurate, clean-cut, vigorous yet graceful and elegant all out once, Harry finds himself mesmerized by her skills more than the subtle form curving out from her bent posture.

The satisfaction is evident in her traits as she straightens up to face him, a pleased rictus forming at her lips. She doesn’t let any suspense unfurl before she cashes in her prize, "so what’s up with the muffin deliveries? You a stress-baker or summat?"

It’s a puzzle that’s been boggling her mind for while now; ever since the first time she watched him gallivanting around the office, handing out kindness and freshly baked goods for the small price of a friendly smile; it’d been a reoccurring thing ever since. The recollection has Harry’s cheeks warm up to a bashful shade of vermillion at the thought of admitting the reason behind his action: he’d bake a basketful of cakes just so he could give her one without exposing himself. Being straight forward with his infatuation may have been unfeasible at the time, but there was nothing against inconspicuously indulging the sweet tooth he knew she had, right?

"I dunno, just like seein' people smile, and everyone likes a good muffin, right?" His answer teeters on the ledge between veracity and evasion, the genuine ‘they were all for you’ being replaced by a less naked truth.

Y/n nods at his answer and waits until he is about to aim for another shot to voice her musings out loud, "mmm, they are quite delicious." Her attempt to distract him turns fruitful when his ears perks at her sultry voice right as he pointedly knocks the white ball with his cue. It’s off by an inch but a near-hit doesn’t help assuage his frustration, "fuck."

"Oh bummer. Guess you’ll have to pass," y/n can’t help but to tease him.

And the pout on his lips does nothing to quell her amusement, "bollocks, you distracted me."

"I did no such thing," she denies before taking his place at the table. The odds are in her favor, a perfect alignment offering itself to sink the blue striped ball right into the closest pocket. And because y/n never misses a clear shot when she’s handed one, that’s exactly what happens. Tucking the cue back at her side, she mulls over the hundred questions titillating her mind and settles for another pass at him,"is this suit the most extravagant you own and if not, what are the others like?"

Harry scrunches up his nose at yet another dig taken at the expense of his clothes, his voice pitching a halftone higher than usual, "hey, s’nough outta you, leave my suits out of it." There is a pout puckering at his lips and y/n giggles at his theatrics when he brings his hands to his chest in a protective gesture. This man and his suits…

"Somehow I don’t believe you give a single fuck about people’s opinion on your fashion choices."

"Very true. But I do value your opinion." For a brief moment, humor and wit give way to vulnerable sincerity as the two of them lock eyes over the pool table. A shy smile graces y/n’s lips, her heart faltering at his sweet sentiment before Harry gently breaks the consuming stare-off, "well, if you’re lookin’ fo’ more extravagant, I actually have a canary yellow flared suit that goes with a violet dress-shirt." And just like that, they found their way back to confidential banter.

"Damn, now I have to see it."

"One day if you’re lucky," this time he does wink at her, and this time he doesn’t let her enchantress juju distract him from the task at hand. As soon as the balls vanishes from the table, the question flies out of his mouth, "do you really find my suits obnoxious?"

Y/n pauses at the inquiry and tries to read into his eyes. She inspects the bright emeralds for  any unsuspected insecurities and when she finds none, she sends him a simple smile, "I love them. I just enjoy too much your reactions when I give you shit about them." Her chuckle tugs at Harry’s lips, before she lets honesty flooding past hers, "you got such a great sense of who you are, Harry, it just shows in the way you dress. I admire that, don’t let that go."

Interiorly, he’s heart is jumping in somersaults at possibly the kindest compliment someone’s ever granted him, the fact that it came from her only sending his beating organ into more acrobatics. Exteriorly, he returns her tender smile and mutters a timorous ‘thanks love,’ before watching her pocket another ball.

This time she doesn’t have to mull it over, "why did you wait?"

"Huh?"

"When we kissed earlier, you said you’d wanted to do it for a while. Why didn’t you?"

Her words are bare of any reproach as they both lean on their side against the table, inches apart from each other. It’s a fair question; one that she doesn’t really own as the word could have easily tumbled out from his mouth instead. It’s him on the spot though, and while he didn’t quite expect to broach such hazardous matters over a game of pool, he appreciates the openness of their bond. "I dunno, you always seemed so attached to boundaries at work, always so professional, I didn’t think you’d want me to make a move."

"I secretly did," she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Goosebumps race down Harry’s arms as he takes in her confession and the way her teeth are  nipping her lips into a darker shade of pink. His eyes are drawn to them, the urge to close the gap and have her moaning in his mouth growing harder and harder to ignore, "fuck that’s sexy. You’re sexy."

The praise washes over y/n like a cold shower after a scorching day at the beach; startling shivers at first, golden skin tingling, and then all-encompassing relief. She loves how unfiltered he is with her, baring his thoughts to her just as they come, no editing, no secret agenda, no diffidence. Just her pure effect on him plastered across his beautiful face and candy-coating his words with a thick oozing layer of honeycomb syrup.

Leaning the slightest bit towards him, she tempts him with a near-kiss, almost dipping her lips in exquisite spongy fudge, but stops just as their breaths starts blending in one hot mess, "your turn," she purrs against his lips tantalizingly, before stepping away.

Harry looks like he is now the one in need of a cold shower, eyes pinched closed as he tries to compose himself, "right," he clears his throat. It takes him a bit more time to regain enough focus to make a successful go at the game, but once he’s got a good hold on the cue, a stable breath and a clear view of the shot, he takes it with ease and fortune.

As soon as he straightens up, he erases the distance between them, a determined look hardening the subtle lines of his face. "Did you ever think about me like I thought about you? At work, did you ever see me pass in the hallway and it took everythin’ you had not to follow me and kiss me senseless in the copy-machine room while no-one was watchin’?"

"Fuck. The thought might have crossed my mind once or twice," y/n confesses in batted breath. It’s clear the scenario isn’t so much a fabrication of his mind made on the spot as it is  a confession of his own experience, and the thought has the air in her lungs going scarce, as though she’s reached the apex of Mount Everest.

Harry isn’t fending off the heated tension much better, fingers twitching around his cue as he’d rather have her underneath his fingertips instead. He takes one look at the ceiling to stave his yearning some and draws in a deep breath."This is killing me," he whimpers while his lips skim over he skin of her forehead. "Go on, take your damn shot so we can be done with this game."

"It was your idea," she reminds him wryly. All of it, really; coming here, playing pool, playing 20 fucking questions, this heated hodgepodge of salacity and virtuous adoration is all his doing.

"I miscalculated."

"Poor you," y/n gently mocks is disgruntled attitude before scoring another ball, or as she likes to regard, another question, another opportunity to further tease at his already crumbling countenance, "what about you, Harry, do you ever think about me? At work… or otherwise?"

She already knows the first half of the answer and only voiced the double-entendre to rile him up, so she’s quite stunned when he whizzes, "too fucking much fo’ my own good."

The pained expression on his face is almost comical for y/n, she can’t resist probing at his despair, "me too." He groans at the flowing visuals he can’t ban from his filthy mind before she gestures towards the pool table in a gentlemanly way, "and that’s your cue," they both share a chuckle at her silly pun.

If Harry wasn’t so lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, he would revel in the way their intellects seem to dovetail on all fronts; humor, banter, seduction, sincerity, nothing is lost in translation, they seem to talk in the same love language. From teasing digs and dirty innuendos to play on words or heartfelt confessions, they know exactly which frequency to tune in.

"Fuck, I can’t see straight," he laughs as he misses a shot for the second time, and y/n quickly takes over his spot around the pool table. Settle, relax, aim, breathe, shoot; another point to her flawless record. She turns to him, looking intently at his blown irises to stir up the flame already inhabiting them, "was it good?"

"Mind-blowing," he answers without unlocking their eyes, and the whole conversation is starting to get to her too. Her thighs rub against together, knuckles turning white around her cue as she tightens her grip and Harry has to bite his lips to contain a moan. He tries to distract himself by taking his turn in the game, and burst out in laughter when he pockets the ball and y/n cries out, "blue ball in the pocket! I feel like their might be a subliminal message somewhere but I can’t quite put my finger on it"

Once they regain their breath from laughing, tears of joy actually peeling from the corner of their eyes, they go back to staring at each other. It’s Harry’s turn to ask a question, and the anticipation had y/n fidgeting under his consuming gaze. She expects him to bounce back on the previous question, but to her surprise he decides to take a different route, "tell me darlin’, if I were to kneel at your feet and look up that pretty dress right now, what color your lil panties would be?"

The question sounds boyish really, yet instead of rolling her eyes at him, her core clenches around emptiness at the thought of having him between her legs right this moment, "can’t answer that, sorry."

"Oh come on love, you gotta say. Them’s the rules," Harry tries to coax the answer out of her but she’s not budging.

"Sorry, Harry. I’d tell you if there was anything to tell." His eyes widen at her lewd implication, the revelation of just how many layers away she is from being in the nude, coming into light. Damn, he would have gotten much more than a nip-slip.

"Fuck me, I need to sit down for a mo’."

She laughs at his dramatic response before picking up her cue, "you do that, in the mean time…" The rest of her sentence is cut short as she positions herself at the pool table, and the next sound cutting through the humid atmosphere comes from the ball falling into its target.

"Jesus, do you ever miss?"

"I don’t play to lose, Styles," she quips back. "Now, what’s your biggest fantasy? Aside from shagging in the copy-machine room, that is."

Harry takes one step closer, gently backing her against the table with one hand encasing her at either side of her waist. As he towers over her, his ardent look ignites a fire at the pit of y/n’s stomach, flame licking all the way up to her heart and down to her toes. Her core throbs before the words fall out of his supple lips like maple syrup on a stack of fluffy pancakes. "Right now? Bend you over this pool table and have my way with you."

"In front of all this people?"

"What d’you think is stoppin’ me from doin’ it right now?"

"Manners?"

The retort earns her a deep chuckle, as he shakes his head in disbelief, "fuck y/n, I lost my manners the moment you kissed me."

The raw admission sends a shiver down her spine, before she regains her full bearings and pushing his cue against his chest for him to grab, "your turn."

Barely moving from his spot nestled against her, he successfully sends the ball down the drain and doesn’t waste any time before asking in the same sultry voice, "favorite position?"

‘Why are y’asking?"

"Future reference," he announces confident.

"Well in that case, kinda like this…" she brushes against him as she bends over the table, ass jutted out on one side, before adjusting the angle of her cue and aiming for the pocket, "…when everything aligns and it just sinks…" bam, she propels the sphere in one strong hit "…right through." She finishes her demonstration with a score and a suggestive smile, only but one ball left for her to obliterate; the eight ball. "Are you ready to lose, Styles?"

"Dunno, is that your question?"

"Yes. I got everything I want to know already."

"Then I don’t fucking care about losin", s’not the game I wanna play anymore," he trails a finger down the skin of her back, goosebumps erupting at his touch. He is stopped by the tip of her cue pressing at his chest, slowly pushing him back from her space, and his hands meet this air in surrender. She’s got a wicked smile on her lips and a title to uphold after all, "last shot, make it count."

Harry takes the shot hastily, half expecting another miss, but the solid yellow ball disappears into the table’s corner in a vibrant crash. Eyebrows raised and shallow breath, he pivots back towards her, "please tell me this is turnin’ you on s’much as it’s turnin’ me on?"

"Yes," she rubs the exposed skin of his chest, eyes leaving his face to trail down his torso. "I’m just better at hiding it," she brings her lips to his ear, "physically or otherwise apparently." Then she leaves a loud smack on his cheek and goes around the table to sink the last ball standing in the way of her victory. In true y/n fashion, she completes a faultless round with one last graceful hit that leaves Harry transfixed by her dexterity.

"Damn, you are the queen of pool, I’m bowing down to you. Any final question?"

She lays the cue down on the table before coming up to him, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Take me back to my place?"

His head falls back on its neck, eyes closing in deliverance, "fuck yeah." This whole night may have been the most intense and rousing foreplay he’s ever experienced, he can’t wait to deliver good on his own promise.

➪ Masterlist

[im-whatchamccallit]

When They’re Jealous//ATEEZ

A/N: An attempt was made lol

Hongjoong

“This sounds incredible!” You couldn’t stop smiling as you listened to the song you had just finished recording, your producer doing as you asked and not auto-tuning your voice like the previous ones had.

You were making your comeback album and needed a new producer immediately, one that understood you were talented without vocal enhancements and could respect that, but all of them ignored you and only followed what they thought sounded right, causing the general public to mock you as an artist. But then you met Jihoon, or Woozi as he wanted you to call him. He was an excellent composer and an even greater producer, having a great ear for music that he even helped you find your range, something your vocal coaches even ignored or struggled with.

You were enjoying the moment until you felt your phone vibrate erratically, your heart sinking into your stomach as you read Hongjoong’s name from the screen. You excused yourself from Woozi as he continued to touch up on a few songs. He was always so immersed in his work.

“Joong,” You breathed out once you removed yourself from the room to drown out the noise inside.

“Hey. I came by your apartment so we could eat dinner together but I forgot you said you’ll be at the studio tonight. You mind unlocking the door for me once I get there?”

“I-uh-how about we go to the cafeteria upstairs? People get mad when we bring food in the studio anyways.” You said, biting on your bottom lip in hopes he would agree, but you knew that was too much to ask.

“I’ll make sure we clean up well this time. Besides, I wanna help out on a few of your songs.” You wanted to cry at this point, knowing there was nothing stopping Hongjoong from walking into his worse nightmare.

“O-okay. I’ll leave the door open for you.”

“Thank you, baby. I’ll be there soon, love you.” You gave a small ‘I love you’ before hanging up, rushing back into the room only to be met with a soothing melody played on the studio provided keyboard, but it didn’t ease your anxiety.

“Woozi, listen, you need to go before Hongjoong gets here.” You said bluntly, watching as his fingers stopped before looking at you, his eyes filling with worry at the sight of your own panicked expression, your bottom lip close to bleeding from how hard you were biting it.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t have him know you’re here. Please, you just need to trust me-“

“Is Hongjoong hurting you, (Y/n)?” Woozi asked with genuine concern and a hint of outrage.

“No, but he’ll hurt you if he knows your my producer so you need to-“

“(Y/n/n)…”

You turned around and tried to hide your fear with a large smile, Hongjoong staring at you with an almost pained expression that made you let out a small whimper despite your seemingly casual appearance.

“Hongjoong! This is Woozi. He’s a-“

“Producer, I know. So you helped on (Y/n)’s album?” Hongjoong stated with a bitter yet monotonous voice, handing you the large bag of takeout before making his way into the room and taking a seat next to Woozi, your heart ringing in your ears as you watched them interact.

Hongjoong was always begging you to collab with him on a song or album. You could just picture his smile as he talked about how he’d listen to it over and over again, reminding himself that, even though your relationship wasn’t allowed by your company and he wasn’t able to show the world how great you were together, he’d be able to say you were great together as musicians and collaborators. But you crushed those dreams by asking Woozi to help with your album instead.

Hongjoong couldn’t deny he was hurt, and maybe even a bit jealous. Woozi was an amazing composure and producer, but so was he. Did you think he wasn’t good enough and that’s why you didn’t ask for his help? Or maybe it’s because you always liked Woozi better. Hongjoong recalled all the times your absentmindedly praised the older male’s musical abilities, a mixture of anger and self-doubt consuming him as he gave half-assed comments on the tracks Woozi played from your upcoming release. They were perfect, and that only made Hongjoong feel worse.

It took some time for you to regain your composure as you set the food down and stood beside Hongjoong, listening to him give a bit of critique to your title track, praising it despite his entire demeanor showing he was less than pleased with the situation.

“I’m gonna head home now to give you two some space. You need me to come by tomorrow to work on that bonus track?” Woozi asked while packing up his belongings.

“No, that’s fine. Thanks again for today.”

You both watched as he finally left, the tension in the air nearly suffocating you as you tried to find the words to say.

“He’s a great producer. Glad he helped with your album.” The tone of his voice was so defeated and sad, the small sigh you released doing nothing to relax your tense body.

“I wanted to ask you but you were already focused on Ateez stuff.”

“I would’ve made time for you.” He finally looked at you, his gaze soft despite the painful thumping in his chest fueled at the thought you went to another man for help. It almost felt like he was just cheated on.

“That would’ve been the most selfish thing for me to do and you know it. But look,“

You walked around to the seat Woozi previously occupied, finding the notebook you kept for all of your songs and picking out a loose sheet of paper. It looked a bit faded and old but you could read the lyrics perfectly.

“I wanted to make a bonus track that’d be released before the album and, considering we wrote it together, I thought it’d be wrong of me to have Woozi work on it.”

Hongjoong gently grabbed the sheet and read over the page that had strange doodles in the header and margins, a small smile appearing on his lips. He wrote this for you as a confession while he was still a trainee, giving it to you as a birthday gift before you returned it with drawings and extra lyrics added, you both going back and forth like lovesick kids until both sides of the page were filled.

“Are you doing this to pity me?”

“I’m doing this because you’re a great producer with amazing talent that will make this song better than I could ever imagine.” Despite your words being genuine, he felt you were only telling him what he wanted to hear. And he was okay with that.

“Alright, should we get started now?” He asked eagerly, moving to the keyboard to find a perfect melody for the love song.

“Let’s eat first. I’m starving.”

“Nope. With me it’s business first, leisure second.” He said with a nonchalant yet peppy tone, your body sinking into the seat as you realized he alone would go days without a meal until he perfected a song, so there’s no telling what you’ll have to endure with him. Maybe you should’ve stuck with Woozi on this one.

 Seonghwa

You couldn’t read him at all. He was smiling like usual but his eyes were somehow narrowed with a glare. His body was so relaxed yet the arm around your waist was holding you into his side so tightly. And his voice; he was holding a conversation like normal yet sounded so sarcastic and bitter.

You could never pinpoint Seonghwa’s jealousy, he was a master at hiding it. But he knew when it kicked in, especially with the way your work husband, as he introduced himself, came rushing towards you with a bear hug during your company’s recent office party. He knew there’d be someone at the office interested in you, it’s hard not love someone so kind and energetic. But he also had to make a point of you being his, and what better way to do that than with class?

“Every day I come in, (Y/n) manages to make it better. It kinda bummed me out when you told me you were with someone, cause I would’ve had you for myself by now.” You coworker joked with a laugh, you and Seonghwa returning the laughter before the same arm around you tightened once more and you were certain you’d pop any second now.

“Well, let’s just consider you unlucky, right?” Seonghwa’s joke left an uncomfortable silence between you three, your eyes going between him and your colleague.

“I think (Y/n)’s incredible, sweet, talented. I’d say you’re a hard worker but that’s pretty obvious since you practically live at your office, right?” Seonghwa continued, facing you as you tried to make sense of what he was thinking and feeling, slowly piecing it all together with his little rant.

“But I think the greatest thing about you is that you’re mine and mine alone, and no work husband could ever compare to your real one.”

“My what?!” You snapped out of your trance as your coworker finally spoke up, apologizing if his comments made either of you uncomfortable, your head shaking frantically as he excused himself.

He was the only fun person you worked with that was around your age, everyone else in their 30s or 40s and having no time to joke around. His presence made your job bearable, and now you probably lost that thanks to the passive aggressive fool next to you.

“Why would you make up a lie like that? I should’ve known you were just jealous from the start.” You grumbled, wanting to remove yourself from his arms and apologize to the man that would usually give you a coffee with a joke written on the cardboard sleeve.

You gasped as you were pulled back once more, not too harsh but enough to make you turn and face Seonghwa, staring down at you in such an intimidating yet passionate way. It was scary yet exciting.

“I didn’t lie at all. You’re mine just like I’m yours and, we may not be married now, but it’ll happen soon.” He clarified, standing upright and looking away from you as a familiar smirk played on his lips.

“And I never get jealous, you know that.” Liar.

Yunho

Jealousy wasn’t something Yunho typically felt, but when he felt it, it hit him hard.

He wasn’t sure why he was so jealous, you were only talking to an old friend, one that you introduced him to as your “first crush”. But those feelings were from years ago, you were with Yunho now so there shouldn’t be a problem. Until he remembered he was also your crush at one point, you pining after him for two years until he caught on and accepted your feelings. If you could wait that long for Yunho, who knows how long you’d wait for this guy.

You were in a public space, walking alongside one another in the park Yunho always took you when he was stressed from work and practice, but this situation was just as stressful. Yunho felt like a kicked puppy at the way you gave all your attention to someone you haven’t seen in years and, from the sounds of it, had nothing in common with anymore, just fond memories. He didn’t want to start pouting because he’d be too obvious about his envy, his eyes rolling whenever you laughed at a lame joke he said. Seriously, he wasn’t that funny.

“Yunho, I forgot to ask what you did for work.” The other man, Chris, spoke up, causing Yunho to finally give him his attention.

“(Y/n) and I work together. I’m an idol while they’re our makeup artist.”

“Makeup artist? I can’t believe that’s still your dream job after these years. Congrats.” Chris smiled down at you before reaching to place his hand on your head, ruffling your hair as you let out a cute faux-whine and that was the last straw for Yunho.

You gasped as you were suddenly spun around, crashing into your boyfriend’s chest as he held onto you tightly, trying to hide his glare as he looked to a shocked Chris.

“Sorry but I just reminded myself we’ve been on break too long and I have to get back now.”

“Oh, well (Y/n) and I can hang out while you head bac-“

“No.”

You barely managed to give a proper apology and goodbye to Chris as Yunho dragged you off in the opposite direction, your body fighting against his until he released you, only to grab onto your hand with a gentle yet iron-tight grip. You’ve only seen this side of Yunho once before, and it was when you first began dating, the head makeup artist being a male that you had to give your undivided attention to in order to learn properly.

The lack of eye contact, the way his lips formed a pout despite him licking them occasionally to erase it or at least hide the fact it was there only to have it come back deeper than before, and the stand-offish yet clingy affection he gave you, almost as if he was angry at you but desperate for you to comfort him. He was jealous, and it was honestly amusing.

“You know, you have to stop getting jealous like that.”

“I’m not jealous.” He said bluntly, a small giggle leaving your mouth.

“Okay, sure. I bet you were fine with the fact Chris kept calling me his ‘love’ too, right?”

“When did he say that?!” You couldn’t stop the laughter leaving you at his outburst, ceasing his steps to face you with a devastated look.

“I’m sorry, I was only kidding, I just love how cute you get when you’re jealous.”

“I was jealous that you weren’t including me in your conversation. Him calling you love is just disrespectful to our relationship.” He clarified, your head nodding understandingly.

“Well, that doesn’t matter because he’s not my type.” You paused to kiss the hand holding onto yours, looking at Yunho’s face with a small smile.

“I prefer giant crybabies.”

Yeosang

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you stood alongside Park Bo Gum in the makeshift apartment on set, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you watched him recite his lines for the third time that night. Sure, he was probably annoyed and exhausted because you could only stare at him in absolute admiration which led to you forgetting your own lines, but the words he spoke never got old to you. The character he was playing was confessing to you, something a rookie actor like yourself could only take to heart, especially when the man opposite of you was your celebrity crush.

But that only made Yeosang stand far behind the camera sulking. Seeing as you were always so excited after the end of filming each day, Yeosang took it upon himself to come watch you, only to realize this was the cause of your joy. When you said the leading actor for the upcoming drama was a ‘surprise’, he didn’t think you meant Park Bo Gum, yet here he was: staring down at you with soft eyes and a toothy smile that made Yeosang want to roll his own.

After various attempts, you final managed to deliver your lines, you and the slightly older male ending the day with a seconds long kiss that would be edited to last an eternity, the entire cast and crew relieved that you got it together so they can wrap up and go. Yeosang couldn’t help the way his face burned with irritation as he swallowed his jealousy, it always happened when he did. He also couldn’t help how cold he was acting as you approached him with a large smile.

“Did I do well? Did you like it?” You asked hopefully, Yeosang slowly cracking at the nervous and childlike gaze you gave him, a sigh leaving his lips as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Yeah, you did really great, sweetie.”

“(Y/n)!”

Yeosang’s bitter scowl came back as Bo Gum approached, his typical smile planted on his face and the poor boy couldn’t help but admit he was a real life prince. No wonder you could barely speak in front of him.

“Sunbaenim!” You greeted, bowing politely before gesturing to the obviously angry man next to you.

“This is my boyfriend, Yeosang.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you. (Y/n) talks about you all the time.”

You watched as he kindly extended his hand, Yeosang’s eyes staring at it pathetically before drifting upwards to glare at your elder, a shocked gasp leaving you as you apologized to the equally shocked, but honestly amused, actor.

“I’m so sorry. He’s a bit socially awkward outside of his performances so you’ll have to excuse him.”

“It’s fine, I get that way sometimes. But you did great today, don’t forget to practice more when you get home.”

You nodded and watched as he strolled away to return the outfit used for today’s filming, your head snapping to your boyfriend’s unbothered figure.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You just disrespected Park Bo Gum! Are you insane?”

“Stop talking about him like he’s some god. He’s just like anyone else.”

“Even if he is, that doesn’t excuse you being rude.”

You huffed as you walked away from him, the crew and director putting their items away as he stood awkwardly with his arms crossed over his chest, upset but still willing to wait for you to collect your items so he could take you home. You didn’t know why he acted like such an angry brat when he was jealous, but you could understand that you having a romantic scene with someone you’ve admired for years would obviously be an ego killer for him. You couldn’t help that you put Bo Gum on a pedestal, it was the fangirl in you. But your boyfriend was just as famous and meant even more to you, so why weren’t you treating him the same?

Yeosang heard your timid footsteps stop just in front of him although he refused to look at you, your arms wrapping around his torso as you pried his own apart with your head so he could hold you properly, staring up at him with a pout.

“Stop being angry with me.” You tried to say in your cutest voice, Yeosang trying hard not to break his sour puss persona.

“Act cute all you want, but I think Bo Gum would probably like it way more than I do.”

“I’m too young for him. Besides, he probably doesn’t like weirdos like me.”

You felt two warm hands cup your face before squishing your cheeks together, making your pout more prominent and fish-like, Yeosang finally smiling as he playfully tilted your head from side to side.

“Yeah, you are pretty weird.”

Everything seemed fine and well for you two again, especially when he leaned forward to plant a small kiss to your lips, only to retract instantly with his previous stone-faced expression.

“You didn’t wipe your mouth after he kissed you, did you?” Your eyes widened in realization just after he released you, turning on his heels to walk away only for your body immediately follow his, preparing to fix things once again.

“Wait, I forgot to! I didn’t leave it on purpose! Yeosang!”

San

It all happened last night: San taking you out to dinner, the waiter flirting with you heavily, you giggling in a mixture of awkwardness and flattery, and San biting back his jealousy. All of that was last night, so why the hell was San romancing the hell out of you now?

You watched carefully as he maneuvered himself around the dorm’s dining room table, standing at your side as he cut your steak for you and even opted to feed you, his eyes staring into yours lovingly as you chewed although you were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, finally bringing yourself to look away.

“Shouldn’t you take a seat and eat as well? I feel weird having you do this for me.”

“Nonsense. I’d rather starve before I learn you haven’t had your meal first.” Your eyes widened at his words, staring at him in disbelief as he eagerly held another piece of meat to your lips.

The jealous San you knew was pouty and clingy, but this one was suave and charming, making your heart skip a beat whenever he looked at you. But you could tell he had some impure motive behind this, most of your instincts telling you he wasn’t just spontaneously feeling enamored.

“Well, I can’t take another bite knowing you aren’t eating either. Please eat, Sannie.”

He gave a small smile before setting your utensils down and pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth, making his way back to his own seat where he didn’t even look at his food, just stared back at you with the same gaze as before. You mentally groaned, knowing this would be a long night.

And, by god, it was.

From the painfully uncomfortable dinner, to the way he held your hands and complimented you as he presented a necklace with his name on it, to the way you slow danced in the center of their dorm. You just couldn’t handle it. But you still allowed him to sway your bodies together as he held the same joy on his face, almost oblivious to the fact you wanted to push him away, a simple sentence leaving him that made you snap.

“I just want you to know that there’s no other man in this world that’ll treat you like I do.”

You glared up at San before removing yourself from his grasp, walking towards his phone placed on the nearby table and turning off the music he had playing before returning to stand in front of him.

“Listen, it took some time for me to figure out you were jealous, but to go through all of this? You’ve clearly lost it.”

“I just want to show you how much-“

“You love me? Because this ain’t it, San. You just wanted to one-up a waiter that I laughed at because I was uncomfortable and wanted him to leave me alone.” His eyes widened at your words.

“So you didn’t like him talking to you?”

“Hell no. I was hoping you’d do something besides sit in your corner having a pity party. Now, here we are, in the middle of your dorm slow dancing while you’re in slacks and a dress shirt and I’m still in my pajamas. And we both know Seonghwa made that steak, so don’t take credit for it.” You’ve said so much already yet your rant didn’t end there.

“I think the worse part of all of this is that I asked you for this necklace when we started dating last year, and to finally receive it under these circumstances makes me not even want to wear it. I honestly prefer your usual whiny self to this.”

A brief silence, your hard gaze boring into his shocked one, neither of you knowing want to expect next until San acted first, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you into him with a whimper.

“You promise you didn’t like him more than me?” You couldn’t help but smile and place a comforting hand on his back. This was your San.

Mingi

He felt so childish and stupid for being jealous, but how could he not be when his own partner was sitting on his lap but giving all of their attention to Hongjoong.

He was happy you were getting along with his group members, but hearing how you laughed and talked with his elder, your body perking up at every word he said, your conversations dragging on as you discussed your shared interest, something you and Mingi struggled to do as you were totally different people, his eyes widening whenever you mentioned a new fact about your life. He sat back and silently wondered if you preferred Hongjoong over him, if you ever wonder what he’d be like as a boyfriend. His thoughts were so negative, only growing grimmer and sadder with each scenario playing through his mind, his arms loosening from around your waist as he abruptly stood, your lips no longer moving as you stopped your conversation to check on the giant leaving you.

You followed him into the kitchen silently, his back to you as he rummaged through the fridge, not wanting to see or talk to you as of yet.

“I was gonna head out to eat soon, wanna come?”

“Why not go with Hongjoong?” He muttered, not being able to help that the snarky response slipped out.

“Because the main person I want to be with right now is my boyfriend.” You were met with silence, causing you to sigh and desperately grab onto his arm until he finally faced you.

“Mingi, what’s wrong?”

“Do you like Hongjoong? Like, are you interested in him?”

The laugh you let out was loud enough to cause Hongjoong to questioningly glance towards your direction although he couldn’t see you, your body doubled over as you tried to ease your hysteria.

“Holy fuck, no. What makes you think that?”

“You two just have a lot in common and get along a lot better than we do.” You sighed and reached down to grasp his hands, staring into his eyes despite him shyly looking away, obviously still battling with his insecurities.

“Hongjoong is a great friend, but I’d be so bored with him. I like to talk about our hometown, and how we both love Iron Man films, sure, but you’re always teaching me new things and increasing my hobbies. Remember how I didn’t like rap before you? Now I love it! And it’s because I chose someone I can stay with forever and learn something new about every day.”

You felt your lips tug upwards as he finally looked at you, unable to contain his smile as he pulled you into him, a light squeal leaving you as you held one another in a tight embrace. As much as Mingi wanted to scream to Hongjoong that he won, having you choose him and only him, he stayed silent and mentally celebrated his victory.

Wooyoung

Unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung liked to make you jealous. He found it cute when you shoved his arm and told him to stop being so flirty with other people, only to apologize and remind you that you were his one and only. It was a stupid and silly cycle he loved. But the second you started being cute and flirty with anyone else, hell broke loose.

You didn’t know you were coming off flirty, thinking you were your typically friendly self as you spoke with a fellow idol, congratulating them for their win on tonight’s music show and praising their talent. Sure, he gave a few winks and flirtatious remarks here and there, even stepping closer to you as you continued to converse in the backstage area, you completely unaware of the angry body quickly approaching yours, but Minho catching onto his presence quickly.

“Wooyoung! You did great tonight.” The older star said, Wooyoung giving a curt smile and nod, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you to face him, your eyes wide and cheeks burning at the sudden action.

“Same to you. I’m just upset our song wasn’t part of this week’s voting, we would’ve won thanks to my good luck charm here.” If your face wasn’t bright red before, it surely was now, not used to Wooyoung being this touchy in front of others.

Minho’s eyes widened as he finally realized the situation, bowing respectfully and apologizing for not realizing you two were together, your hands gently pushing Wooyoung to pry him off, not liking the way he stared at you with amusement and an almost predatory glint.

“A lot of people don’t know about us, and I think it’s because I’ve never gotten them a necklace or something to show they’re taken. But I think I have a better alternative.” You gulped as you once again tried to escape, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Wooyoung, don’t you dar-“ You were cut off by your own whimpers, eyes shutting in embarrassment as Wooyoung latched his lips onto your throat, sucking harshly and squeezing your body closer to his.

You knew how Wooyoung got when he was jealous, he was possessive and willing to do such risky things to show whoever was entranced by your natural beauty and presence that you were his and only his, and that a simple touch from him would prove that true as you only craved more.

You released a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding as he finally pulled away, admiring the purple and red mark stained onto your neck before finally giving Minho a glance, the other boy staring at you both in what you could only assume was embarrassment and shock.

“Now, I’m gonna head home. You can come with if you don’t feel like staying out too long, okay? Congrats on that win again.”

Wooyoung went back to his usually cute self, kissing your cheek and casually turning away to stroll from the room filled with a few forgotten people that took in the scene, your bottom lip being sucked into your mouth before bowing and apologizing profusely and rushing out the door. Not because you were mortified, but because you needed to catch up with Wooyoung, unsure if you wanted to yell at him for humiliating you or finish what he started.

Jongho

As a barista, your job was to provide excellent customer service and, not to brag, but you were beyond excellent. Your friendly smile and bubbly personality made it impossible for people not to gravitate towards you, leaving you in a loop of minutes long conversations about nothing with each and every customer while also serving them with their order. Seriously, you were basically perfect.

That kind of perfection is what caused Jongho to fall for you, coming by your shop every day for the same drink just to have more conversations about nothing, and you enjoyed his companionship, your typical work related jokes becoming personal rants that he happily listened to, loving how you both finally grew closer to one another. Of course, he hadn’t asked you out yet, but that was his main and only goal for the day as he entered the small shop. Until he realized you were giving the same undivided attention you gave him to someone else.

They were the only customer as it hasn’t hit peak hours yet, you both sitting at a table just by the window, your head tilted as you listened closely to his words, nodding along as he smiled softly and spoke. Jongho didn’t want to intrude but he was curious. What did this man possess that was similar to or, worse, better than him? The light giggles you occasionally let out didn’t put him at ease either. This man really must be something.

“You’ve honestly really made this day better, (Y/n/n). Seeing you doing well on your own is making this moving thing a lot easier on me.”

His hand, reaching across the table to hold onto yours, brushing his thumb over your skin as you stared ahead giving a shy laugh and smile. Your body shivered as a strange chill ran down your spine, your body feeling stiff and tense as if something was looming behind you menacingly and, once you turned to invalidate your suspicions, you let out a loud yelp that they were true.

“Jongho! I can’t believe I didn’t hear you come in! Come on, let me make your usual.” You said cheerfully while standing from your seat, only for the stone faced boy to ignore you, eyes boring into the man he still had no idea about, but a lot of opinions of.

“You must be Jongho. (Y/n) talk a lot about you.”

“That’s good to hear, since they don’t mention you at all.”

You stood there with wide eyes, blinking away your disbelief before hurriedly looking towards the male, apologizing profusely much to Jongho’s dismay. The unidentified man took the hint that there was a bit of tension from his presence and decided to leave, avoiding giving you a hug as he usually would. As soon as he was out of sight, you crossed your arms, ready to give Jongho a piece of your mind until he cut you off.

“Don’t let anyone else touch you. Or look at you. Especially when you smile because that makes them want to talk to you more.” He stared at you with a small pout and round puppy like eyes.

“And since when have you become my boyfriend?”

“Since now.”

Quite honestly, this was the coldest confession you’ve ever received, but it made your face heat up all the same, a playful smirk making its way onto your face as you approached the still pouty and jealous boy.

“I think I can accept that, as long as you direct your jealousy to someone that isn’t my brother.”

The realization and embarrassment that crossed his face was an instant pass to your forgiveness.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

you were shunned and burned your cradle

Newsies Gen PG 4,365 words AO3 Living in New York isn't easy for a boy on his own. It's worse for Crutchie between his leg and the air itself trying to poison him. But things really can only go up.  For @i-got-personality as part of @newsies-secret-santa! You said you like Crutchie, canon era, and any kind of magic and well I hope that you like this!

Being a changeling in New York City hurts. It makes his skin itch and his lungs burn and his eyes water. From the iron that surrounds him, fills the very air along with the smoke. If he’s not careful when he reaches out or brushes against something his skin comes away with a sharp, searing scar.

Being a changeling hurts in a different way too. Knowing that, for whatever reason, his mother gave him up. That a human baby was far preferable to him and so he was left in some other child’s crib. To make matters worse, he was given up twice. That hurt even more.

On his crueler days, the ones filled with self-loathing, he blames himself. That it was some personal failing, his bum leg perhaps, that made his mother exchange him. That the same failing is why the woman who believed herself his mother threw him out onto the street. Logically, he knows this isn’t the case. For one, he remembers what happened to his leg and it involved an iron poker that proved to his mother he wasn’t really hers as fear burned in her eyes.

Being a changeling in New York hurts and it’s hard too. Trying to grow, to thrive, in a city that was made in opposition to your very nature. It’s even harder when you’re just a kid. When you’re living on the streets. His first few nights are the worst. He’s cold and hungry and tired and he hurts. Oh does he hurt.

Being a changeling is no walk in the park, though ironically walks in the park help some. Help a lot. Until he tires. But being a changeling in a city as big as New York means you’re not alone. Well, you’re never alone but there’s others too. If you know how to spot them.

He’s been sleeping in doorways and sneaking food from market stalls – but not begging, whether an innate part of being a one of the Folk or an innate part of himself he did not want or need anyone’s pity – for a few weeks when he sees her. She’s tall, very tall and with the tatters her skirts are in he’s able to see the pale pink of her calves from knee to muddy leather boots. It’s not a normal pink, not like the glimpses of his own cold cheeks in shop windows, but the dusty pink of a rose. Her fingers are the same color as she waves and calls, catching passersby’s eye and gesturing to the basket of flowers on her arm. The violets match her thick, plated hair and the bluebells her bright, solid-colored eyes.

He stops, shocked on the other side of the street, when he sees her. A cart and then trolley pass between them and still he can’t tear his gaze away. She’s smiling at him once the street is clear, wide and kind. The light almost sparks off her pointed teeth. She winks and crooks a long, thin finger to him. He crosses without another thought, barely managing to remember how to even walk before he’s in front of her.

“Hello little one,” she coos, tilting his chin up so he can meet her gaze. Her pink fingers then trail through his hair, straightening it, before running down to brush over his shoulders and tug lightly at his vest. This close he sees that she has small white flowers woven into the braid of her purple hair. They look like stars in a twilight sky and he’s fairly certain they sparkle too.

“Hello, miss,” he manages to reply.

Her grin sharpens. “You’re a polite young man. And that smile! Sweeter than stolen cream.”

At those words he can’t help but preen. “Thank you, miss. I quite like your hair myself. I’ve-” he stumbles, tightening his grip on the crutch under his arm, “I’ve never seen hair that color.”

Eyes widening, she straightens. “My, you’ve not met one of your own before, have you?”

“No, miss,” he shakes his head, hair flopping into his eyes. He reaches up to brush it back but she’s faster. Brushing it away with her rosy fingers again.

“But you know our ways?” She says it like a question but the flash of her eyes makes it a challenge.

He straightens, feeling so proud it borders on smug. “Never give your true name, always be polite, and nothing is a gift.”

Her head tilts and he honestly can’t tell if she’s thrilled or disappointed. Though they both know it’s not all the ways of the Folk, just the important ones. The ones the humans know in order not to err on their bad side. But for a changeling like him, it’s a good start and all true. That’s another thing he knows, the Folk cannot lie.

“Very good little one. You may know, but I doubt you have much practice. Let us strike a bargain, shall we?” Again, her head tilts and more than her long limbs or resemblance to a garden or sunset, this looks the oddest to him. Sets her apart from the humans still buffeting them on the busy street.

“Only be it fair and true,” he replies on instinct. Because, there’s nowhere else it could have possibly sprung from.

Pride and amusement has her spine straightening as she nods. “My proposition is thus; you give me the two buttons from your vest and I shall weave you a crown that will never wilt. That will remind you of who you are.”

He has to think about it, faerie bargains are notoriously tricks meant to cheat the person hapless enough to make one. There are normally catches and clauses. There are twists and double meanings and you always, always lose more than you gain. Yet, this seems simple. Straightforward. And it would be rude to say no.

“A trinket for a trinket,” he says, stalling.

She inclines her head. “A mortal trinket for a faerie trinket. A piece of a life that was and will be again.”

His heart and mind catch on that last bit but to puzzle it out could take all day and he’s getting hungry. He was trying to find food when he saw her in the first place. It’s a risk, but a benign one. “My two buttons for a flower crown woven by you that will never wilt.”

Again, her smile is sharp. But her knife his sharper as she leans forward and cuts the buttons from his vest, hand moving quickly to cup them before they can do more than fall from the fabric. She slips them into the folds of her skirt, her knife disappearing too. Just as quickly she begins to pluck flowers from her basket with her too long, stick thin fingers and begins to weave them into a crown and in a blink it’s on his head.

“May you wear it in good health,” she says and it’s a blessing he didn’t bargain for. His stomach twists and he nods; remembering not to thank her at the last moment. She flashes one last grin as she turns away, her skirts flaring out, and walks down the sidewalk.

He manages to not lose his flower crown as he falls in with a group of satyrs living in Battery Park, though he leaves after a few weeks when he learns the fish they always have for dinner comes straight from the aquarium in the castle. He goes back to sleeping in doorways and on fire escapes after that. He’s hungry all the time but he can never be sure if it’s his nature or his circumstances that cause it.

Eventually, his clothes become too thin and short, showing off his wrists and legs and strips of his stomach. Sleeping on fire escapes has a new bite as the fabric begins to cover less and less and more and more of his skin is exposed to the iron. The worst is how tight his boots have become, pinching and squeezing at his toes. He refuses to go barefoot though, not because of the cold but because it reminds him too much of the others. The women who walk on the breeze and become one with the trees. The men who blink at him before disappearing into shadows and around corners. The beings and creatures who pinch and poke and trick and steal and cackle and dance, dance, dance in between the oblivious crowds.

He finally manages to trade with an immigrant family from the Lower East Side, not feeling sad to hand over the last items his mother gave him in exchange for shoes that are just a hair too big and clothes that keep his skin from the sparking itch of his fire escape beds.

It’s this sleeping arrangement that gets him in trouble. Faeries are meant to be swifter, stronger than humans. But with his crutch he’s not able to outrun the police. A shopkeeper reports him for vagrancy and even his charms aren’t able to keep the police from dragging him to the Refuge.

Another boy, a newsboy, sees this from a little ways down the street. He freezes and his face darkens. His face with its too sharp angles and too bright eyes. The boy is moving before he has the time to process this, making a messy grab for a trinket from a nearby vendor’s cart, dropping his papers in the process. The police notice – everyone on the block notices – and grab him. The boy struggles but it’s a show, he can tell it’s just for show, and soon they’re both being lifted into the wagon.

The trial is short, the other boy cocky, and the warden at the Refuge cruel. At least here he has a bed, a real bed, for the first time in years. The other boy smooth talks his way into getting the one next to him.

“You can call me Jack, Jack Kelly. Though some of the boys call me Cowboy too,” he says with a quicksilver smile.

He raises a skeptical brow, his thoughts catching on the phrasing and the sharp points the boy’s ears come to. Sharp points that match his own.

“You’re like me,” he says instead of giving his name. He knows better than to give anyone his name. He knows Jack certainly isn’t this boy’s.

“Depends on what you mean by that,” Jack says slyly, stretching out on the thin bunk.

“How do you do it?” He asks with genuine curiosity, leaning forward so he can lower his voice and study Jack’s pleasantly bored expression.

Confusion pulls at Jack’s brow. “Do what?”

“Work as a newsboy.” It wasn’t obvious? “They lie all the time to make money.”

The quicksilver is back. “I never lie. I just embellish the truth. Tell a story. The facts are there, just maybe not all the facts. If it weren’t true, I couldn’t say it.” Jack shrugs and it’s an odd motion since he’s laying on his back with his hands propped behind his head. Made odder by the fact that it seems almost graceful. “It’s not so bad. Get to go all over the city and the lodging house means you’ve got a bed if you can afford it.”

He frowns at the non-sequitur. It deepens when he realizes it’s an abrupt topic change. “We’re stuck here and you’re offering me a job?” he can’t keep all the disbelief out of his voice. Even if he hadn’t checked, he could feel that the windows and doors were barred with thick iron rods.

“I’ll be out of here by dawn, question is if you’re coming with me?”

For a solid minute he weighs his options. The Refuge with its coldness and crying children. Jack with his silver tongue and faerie arrogance.

When they manage to sneak out into the courtyard a few hours later they’re met by the boys who helped break the lock and distract the guards. The first causes him to stop, he’s so obviously a sprite that the scowl is the only thing keeping him from laughing. The other is mortal and chomping on an unlit cigar, the scent of which still makes him wrinkle his nose. The four slink out and into an alley before twisting around the block and through another back alley until they’re farther and farther away.

“We’re even now, Kelly,” the sprite finally growls once the sky begins to lighten.

“A deal’s a deal, Spot.” Jack offers his hand, spitting into it first. If he hadn’t already figured the boy was one of the Folk that would have confirmed it. The spit shake marks him as a newsie. Spot turns to him and the mortal, nodding at them both before turning off a side street and disappearing.

“Bell’s gonna ring soon,” the boy says, almost nervous as he bounces on his toes and glances down the street. His eyes dart to where Spot disappeared to, then to him, and finally back to Jack.

“And we’ll be there, right new kid?” Jack raises a brow at him. It’s a taunt.

“Course,” he replies. No bargain was struck, no deal made, but he is in Jack’s debt and they both know it.

Jack nods, smiles, and turns back to the mortal. “Go get in line, Race. Make sure Weasel don’t give us no grief for being late.”

Race, apparently, grins around the cigar and takes off running. Maybe that’s where the nickname comes from.

“You can trust Racetrack,” Jack tells him vaguely as they follow, “he’s good people.”

Or maybe that’s not where the nickname comes from.

In the next few weeks, he learns the ins and outs of selling from Jack. And of “charming folks” though truthfully, it’s just magic. Jack starts calling him “Kid” and the other newsies “Crutchie” and he doesn’t really care because neither are his name and that’s what matters. The night in the Refuge isn’t the first or last Jack spends there, but it is the only one that’s intentional. He works harder to repay Jack who seems less and less inclined to care.

Finally, he feels they’re even when he manages to discover the nook in the corner of the roof of the lodging house. The air is still filled with smoke and iron but not the smell and sounds of mortal boys. He takes careful trips up with bedding and supplies until he feels it’s suitable. Sleeping under the stars just feels right and he can tell Jack agrees by the expression on his face when he sees it.

They grow close. The other newsies learn he can predict the weather with startling accuracy and say it must be thanks to his leg, he never corrects them. They talk as the city chokes them, about going to someplace that’s nothing but stars. The money comes in fits and starts as he grows into his own sharp features. The other Folk avoid him but mortals feel almost compelled to buy his papers. Stories come in across the river of a young newsie rising through the ranks of Brooklyn and ruling with an iron fist. They don’t tell any of the others that the rumors sound an awful lot like the stories of Court drama they hear.

He keeps his own crown in the bag at his hip, as unchanging as the day he received it. Though now, years later and clothes traded and swapped and bought he misses the buttons she took. Misses having something that reminds him of the place he used to believe was home. For even his crutch is different, having long outgrown the original.

They’re teenagers too soon, a blink in their long lifetimes. With it comes something they don’t expect, an odd almost awed respect from the others. Except Race but he never counted. He’s tied up in Brooklyn as a rule and so is exempt. They never sought the power they seemingly have, power different than that which they were born with, and they discover it in the most dramatic way.

It starts with a raise in prices. A raise which isn’t fair, and they of all people would know. Jack is outraged, he is angry too but in a colder way.

The new boy, the one who either didn’t heed the stories of the old world or else his family hadn’t passed them on – and that did happen as people sought to keep the good and leave the monsters behind when they came to America and never would they imagine to find so many pretty ones in the center of the city – and offers his name as though it was on a platter. Even his little brother gives a nickname. But Jack had been kind and called him Davey and the others had too, much to Davey’s unknowing chagrin.

The new boy, Davey, matches Jack in his heat, at least momentarily, offering the spark to Jack’s powder and unknowingly unleashing that power.

When Jack says they should strike, they strike.

He finally understands the appeal of the Courts for the first time.

“Do you think she’s really going to show up tomorrow?” he asks that night on the rooftop, head still spinning from the rush of their decision. The thrill had dampened slightly after Jack told him of Spot’s reluctance to join them. Understandable, why would he want to risk losing the grip he kept on the tight leash he had over Brooklyn? And he didn’t owe Jack anymore. But this was as much for them as for the mortals. Righting a wrong against oneself was practically faerie law. Though the girl reporter was an intriguing thought and a twist even he hadn’t seen coming.

“I think so,” he can hear Jack’s smirk in the dark. “She told me her name was Katherine Plumber.”

“Really?” He’s surprised, the way she’d eyed him he thought she’d know better.

“Least it’s the name she publishes under,” Jack is almost proud.

“Clever,” he says happily.

“Too bad your charm doesn’t work in print,” Jack teases.

“I don’t need glamour to be charming. The smile’s just icing.”

Jack laughs, the sound floating up over the rooftops. “Good thing she’s bringing a camera.”

He grins up at the stars.

Like any war there are casualties. Unfortunately, he is one of them. Being back in the Refuge again is hard. The time stretches and shrinks in ways he never imagined possible and somehow he knows decades, centuries later he will look back on this and still wonder. The scent of iron is so heavy it’s dizzying and the press of bodies so close it makes everything seem small. These mortals with iron in their blood and salt on their skin surrounding him on all sides. He has the crown, somehow he has the crown. His crown. It marks him as other and for a time, some measure of time, he feels even more alone. So different from these humans serving penance without crime with him.

He takes it out one night, straining to see the pale petals in the paler light of the moon when that changes. The crown proves he is not alone. The faerie woman, the flower seller, took what was never his to begin with and gave him his true home. His first taste of community. Of finding others like himself. Of finding Jack with his silver tongue and smile. Of the newsies of Lower Manhattan with their bright spirits and easy laughs in the face of the City. Of righteous Davey and mischievous Les and clever Kath. Even of Spot and his politics and power games. He found his birthright in the world he was forsaken to and that realization rekindles something within, twisting the crown in his hands.

He feels less alone, turning his charm back on as the sun rises. Knowing that he is just one of hundreds here in the Refuge feeling like this. Uses his charm to learn that there are some who can get messages in and out. Others who can get him supplies. And in the night, despite complaints from his fellows for the candlelight, he writes to Jack urging him to not let his own fire go out.

He knows they’ll win, has never been in doubt of it. Jack said they would and Jack can’t lie. But he knows Jack, and knows that not being able to tell a lie does not mean you can’t lie to yourself. So, he writes and hopes that it gets to Jack in time.

The time slips and spins and he sleeps and waits and imagines and remembers and nearly misses a name being called. A name that was never really his but he took before he could talk and he hasn’t heard in so long he’d honestly almost forgotten it. The others part for him as he carefully makes his way to the stairs that will lead him to the ground floor and the door out of this place. He is thankful for his faerie grace as he moves with so many eyes on him, his crutch catching on the uneven floorboards but he walks with his head high. Walks right out the door. He’s not the only one to do so, but he is the first.

Relishing in the ability to breath in the wind again, he rides in the governor’s open topped carriage taking in lungfuls of it. Even when it carries the stale scent of trash and the river. His smile is so wide it almost hurts and he nearly forgets to smooth the points his teeth have grown into with the giddiness humming like magic under his skin. The people on the street stare to see such a grubby looking boy riding alone in such finery and he lets them, waving a bit and laughing to think that all this was done just for him. There’s a strange metaphor all tied up in it somewhere. A riddle he’ll spend the time puzzling out later. Right now he just breathes.

Seeing the crowd turn at the sound of hooves and whistles and the governor’s gesturing sends his heart speeding. He accepts the excitement buzzing throughout it and between his ears as some of the boys rush the carriage, holding out hands in silent offers to help him down. For once, he accepts. Jack’s grinning up on the small stage above the door to The World – another twisted metaphor for another time – but he quirks a brow too. Knowing he only allows this because so much focus has passed on to question about the police wagon that has followed behind him the whole way.

He makes a face at Jack in silent response before letting his own pride takeover. He spins and gestures to the wagon where police officers are herding out a man. Herding out the man who runs the Refuge. Who ran the Refuge. He can almost feel his excitement pricking at his fingers in the same way iron does as the governor agrees to let him do the honors. The feeling overpowers the actual feel of the iron manacles as he clamps them on the man’s wrist, letting his glamor slip and his smile turn cruel for just a blink in the process.

The celebrating ends sooner than expected, though that isn’t entirely true. Despite the newsies lining up and taking their papers, they all still chatter and cheer. Bubbling up and over at their win. Jack is talking with Spot, Davey, and Kath when he comes over after getting his own stack for the morning. Spot gives him a significant nod before spit shaking hands all around and heading off with his lieutenants. Racetrack trailing behind. It’s an odd mirror of their first meeting and he brushes the thought away as another problem for another time.

“I’m so glad you’re ok,” Kath says as she hugs him. He’s come to realize that she’s special in more ways than one. Her possession of the Sight just part of a larger enigma. Her willingness to pull him into her and easy offers of friendship another. He doesn’t argue though, squeezing her right back.

Davey offers a hand to shake once she frees him and a cautious smile. The caution has nothing to do with him though and everything to do with Davey’s own contradiction filled nature. “You were missed,” he says earnestly. Swatting at his little brother who begins babbling exactly how missed he was.

“So, how was the ride?” Jack slings an arm over his shoulders, wide smile as he pulls him in tight to his side.

“You struck a bargain,” he almost hisses through his own smile clenched teeth.

“We came to an agreement.” He feels more than sees Jack’s shrug.

“It was two deals,” Davey corrects with a stern turn to his mouth and a flash in his eyes. “Jack made two deals with Pulitzer.”

He pulls away, brushing off Jack’s hold. He stares hard at the other boy. Dares him to say something and damn himself. Say nothing and damn himself even further.

“The first was a deal only we could make,” Jack says smoothly. He doesn’t blink and his sharp features become sharper with the seriousness that overtakes him. He understands immediately. It was hard. It was cruel. And it doesn’t matter what exactly it was and who gave what because in the end Jack walked away with what mattered most.

“And the second?” he prompts.

Jack shrugs again, shares a glance with the others, and smirks. “We won.”

Truthfully, he should have expected that. He rolls his eyes. Later, under the stars and the smoke, breathing in as little iron as they can he’ll ask again. He’ll find out what he did to convince Spot. What the terms of the bargain were. Of both bargains. And whether Jack was going to tell Davey their true nature, since there was no point in telling Kath. They have all the time in the world to leave the city and see the stars. These people they’ve turned into a home have only a lifetime and he’s already decided that he’s going to make the most of it.

End notes can be found on ao3. Please leave a comment and lmk what you think there as well! :)

[koko-bopp]

Meet The Boyfriend

jeon jungkook x male!reader

word count – 1K

genre – MAJOR FLUFF | idol!au?

warnings – none

synopsis – Hey can you write bts reacting to jungkook finally introducing his boyfriend to the rest of the group?

"You know how much they've been bugging me to meet you?" Jungkook said.

You grinned, happy to hear that was the case. Though Jungkook was acting confident, the bouncing of his left leg suggested otherwise.

Jungkook was nervous.

Way, way beyond nervous.

It wasn't that he had a problem with himself, all his hyungs knew of the fact that he liked boys. But they are about to meet you as his boyfriend was what made it nervous. They knew that there was someone, they just had no idea who it actually was. That someone was you, but they only thought you an Jungkook were best friends from high school.

Well, they weren't wrong, best friends that made out whenever the time and chance would let them. Declare their love for each other and cuddled without saying 'no homo' because, well, full homo.

But, Jungkook was feeling spontaneous, and he asked the boys to dress up and meet him at his chosen restaurant, telling them that he just wanted to treat them dinner; when reality it was all a plan to get them to finally meet you; [Y/N] [L/N], Jeon Jungkook's boyfriend for whole eight month, and crush for six years.

He didn't know how they'll react. Considering this is a secret he's kept from the whole group for such a long time. Partly because he didn't think it would last this long; he genuinely thought that the whole 'dating a world-famous kpop idol' thing would be too much for you. But it didn't seem to be, you were hopelessly in love with him, and vice versa. Jungkook was just worried that his hyungs would feel a bit betrayed...

"Do you..." You began as soon as you came to a red light, turning over to your boyfriend, "They obviously know who I am. But... Do you think they'll approve? Honestly? You're obviously too good for me so I don't know–"

Jungkook leaned over immediately, his lips meeting yours to shut down your insecurities as soon as possible. Soft. Yet full of love, moving his head slightly so he could get more of you in the same few seconds the two of you had.

Jungkook pulled away gently, looking at you with soft yet pressing eyes, "You and I could've picked anyone to love, yet it's lead me to you. If they don't like that, who's stopping me from seeing you? Jin?"

You laughed, "Honestly? Yeah."

Jungkook giggled, leaning back down so he could sit properly in the leather car seats, only this time taking his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to let you know he was there. "I believe in you."

You smiled, "Likewise. I believe in you too."

↓

You opened the restaurant door for Jungkook, earning a small 'thank you' as he entered in first, you following a bit afterwards.

"안녕하세요!" Jungkook said, immediately stopping the chatter between the six boys.

"Kookie-ah!" Jimin said in glee looking behind him to see you, then looked at Jungkook in confusion to not see an unknown face, "Wasnt your boyfriend able to make it or something?"

Taehyung coughed and Yoongi took a second to kick Jimim from under the table, causing Jimin to yelp in pain out of the sudden action.

Jin's eyes shot wide, "No fucking way."

Jungkook looked down, blushing deeply, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinning with such pride, "안녕하세요, you all know me as [Y/N], but I'm also Jungkookie's boyfriend."

Najoon handed Yoongi a lump of paper money.

Jimin was still just as shocked as Jin, Taehyung struggled to breathe properly, Hoseok and Yoongi were quickly moving aside to give the two of you some space to sit down and Namjoon was bummed out at the fact that he was wrong for once.

"Wait wait, hold on!" Jin said as soon as he regained his ability to speak without shock.

Now you were scared, just a bit. Only Namjoons approval mattered for Jungkook, but for you, it was either everyone or no one to make you feel comfortable.

You were completely in love with Jungkook, and if the people that Jungkook considered family weren't happy with you dating their youngest member; you're fucked.

"How long?" Namjoon interrupted, he was more civil, so it made you that little bit less nervous.

"Eight. Almost nine months."

Namjoon grumbled, handing Yoongi another few notes of cash.

Yoongi put the money in his pocket, then turned to the two of you, giving you two a small smile, "If you're treating each other well, then I really don't care, " He then looked at you, "Break Kook's heart and I kill you. You're a great guy, so I doubt it, but better safe than sorry."

You immediately nodded.

To say the least, you had absolutely everyone's approval by the end of the night. You got to exit the room with Jungkook, being know as the man who he fell in love with.

A title you couldn't be happier with.