#but not without some fluff to keep you guys afloat

[starstruckkittensweets]

“A Dance with the Devil” | Dabi x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia  Pairing: Dabi x Reader Words: 6.2k 

A/N: This is my very first attempt at writing for a non AoT character, and of course it had to be this guy! On my recent rewatch of MHA to prepare for Season 6 my crush on him was reignited (no pun intended I swear) and now with recent events in the anime and manga I’ve fallen into a hole I can’t seem to get out of. I started this as some basic angst/comfort, but it quickly morphed into something I couldn’t really stop writing. So here’s roughly 6k words of shameless self-indulgent comfort, fluff, flirting, suggestive talk, and awkward pining over some cigarettes and booze. The title’s partially inspired by that “dance with the devil in the pale moonlight” quote, honestly I had a really tough time coming up with a title for this because titles aren’t my thing! But I think it works for what it is. This is also my first time writing for him so I apologize if it’s a little choppy in some places; but I hope you guys enjoy! Oh and happy birthday Dabi you menace to society! 

Warnings: mostly SFW, smoking, alcohol consumption, suggestive language, Reader can be very insecure at times, Dabi is an asshole but he tries his best to comfort Reader, this is just very self indulgent and I want to give him a hug and maybe a kiss or two

He’s waiting for you on the rooftop, in your usual spot at the edge. A lit cigarette hanging from his fingertips, flicking the ash down on the city streets below. At the scuffle of your shoes on the stone he shoots you his trademark smirk, motioning to the tiny cooler at his heels.

“About time you showed up.” You give him a shrug as he settles down on the edge with his legs dangling below, practically pulling you down to join him. “Worried you might skip out on me, doll.”

“I had…” Your throat runs dry beneath that burning blue gaze. “…Just had some shit to do.”

He reaches into the cooler and pulls out a beer for himself, before pressing a bottle of cider into your palms. He’s always teased you for your dislike of beer—the way your face scrunches up at the tiniest drop on your tongue, the way it seems to suck out every bit of moisture from your mouth. It took you guys a while to find a drink that didn’t make your insides squirm. Finally settling on a brand of hard cider that was too sweet for his taste, but gave you just the right amount of liquid courage to keep these little midnight trysts afloat.

The bottle opener hanging from your keys trembles against your fingers; you can barely fit the cap into the little slit before Dabi’s hands close over your own, snapping it off in one swift movement. You mumble a quick thanks before tipping back the bottle, hoping to drown out the low chuckle he gives in liquid fire. Or the sight of that damn cigarette barely hanging on between his lips.

“Thought my presence didn’t make you blush anymore,” he croons, and all you can think of is how to make the alcohol work any faster than it already does. “Nice to see it still works, though.”

“It doesn’t…”

But your voice dies in your throat as you nurse the bottle close to your chest, counting the lights of the city sprawled below. It used to be able to calm you down, sitting up here at night, with or without the company of someone else. But tonight it’s different, and no matter how many sips of cider slide down your throat, you can still feel that heavy weight against your chest.

Crushing you until you can barely breathe. Reminding you of just how tired you are, how much of a failure you can be—how much you already are—

“Doll.”

Your jaw tightens when you look over at him. His fingers are already tracing the fabric of your jacket, just above your shoulder.

“…Yeah?”

“You’re quiet tonight.”

“Oh… It’s okay, I’m—”

“Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Oh.

You clear your throat again before raising the bottle one more time. “Nothing’s bothering me, I’m fine. I promise!” It’s the same lie you tell yourself every other day, hoping that just this time, it’ll actually be true. “Nothing you have to worry about, I swear. I’m all—ah!”

His palm is suddenly pressed against the mouth of the bottle, your lips barely brushing over the skin of his knuckles. You yank yourself back as far as you can—with his arm still around you of course—as he plucks the drink from your hands and holds it up to his face. The glass glints against the moonlight, painting his face in a pretty amber shade.

“More than halfway done. You never drink this much this fast. So tell me,” his voice is deeper now, making you tremble all over again, “what’s bothering you?”

Fuck, he’s right! You’re not the fastest when it comes to drinking alcohol—you both know he comes in first in that regard. But from the looks of his beer on the slab of stone beside him, he’s probably had three or four sips tops. And here you are making a fool of yourself, knocking it back like you’re some idiotic girl who’s just gone through her first breakup.

“…I didn’t think you were that observant, Dabi,” you try to brush him off with a laugh, but it only makes him tighten his grip on your shoulder. And then your insides are twisting up again, your fingers itching to grab ahold of something.

Answer him already. He’s caught you, it’s too late to try to save this.

“…Just had a shit day at work… Well, a shit week, more like it.”

But how is that different from any other week at work? It’s always the same, every day rolling by as slowly as possible, little events and annoyances piling up on top of one another until the tears start spilling. Until the weight in your chest becomes too much to handle, and you end up shutting yourself away from the rest of the world to scream into your hands—or a pillow, whatever’s closest to you at the moment.

But it’s not just work—sometimes it’s the neighbors across the hall or next door, others it’s family members with their incessant poking and prodding, or maybe it’s just a random stranger on the street who’s too focused with their own problems to make room for anyone else’s.

Grin and bear it. Be as nice as you can be. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Everyone likes to see a smile, right? So smile until you can’t, until your face begins to ache.

Even if they don’t always smile back.

“I’m just…tired. And I know I shouldn’t be, but I guess I am.” Fuck, why are you even telling him all of this? It’s not like he cares, right?

He’s got more pressing matters to deal with. More important things to worry about, besides your sudden change of mood.

“Sorry, I know I’m being stupid…” Your tongue feels thick against your lips, nails biting into the skin of your palms.

“It’s not stupid if it’s makin’ you this upset.” He drags his thumb below your eye, catching a lone tear before it can fall down your cheek.

No, don’t cry, don’t you fucking start, not now, please not now!

“I…”

You swallow hard and reach for the bottle, whimpering as he holds it just out of arm’s length. You don’t want to feel like this anymore—like you’re a burden, a child, so fucking helpless you have to be coddled.

“One more—just one more sip—”

“Not if you’re gonna suck it all down one go.”

His voice is firm, almost enough to get you to stop reaching for the bottle. But he’s quick to place it down beside his beer, before catching your wrists in his hands. You can’t bear to look him in the eye, instead staring down at the line of staples holding his hands together. Your cheeks are flared up as he leans in close; you can practically taste the smoke on his breath from the cigarette he’s been nursing all night. The same one that’s currently burning on the rim of his beer can, lying forgotten as he brings you close to his chest.

“B-but I—”

“’S fine,” he mumbles, pressing his scarred cheek against your temple.

You snap your mouth shut. What is he doing? He’s never this tender, never one to initiate any kind of touch on his own, unless it’s inherently sexual. The closest you’ve ever gotten was holding hands when the nights got too cold—and he wouldn’t let you live it down as you sat there in your apartment shivering, at least three blankets already wrapped around your shoulders, practically begging for him to warm you up.

He’s never shown any physical interest in you like this, apart from the constant flirting and lighthearted smirks he’s thrown your way over the last year or so you’ve known each other. Never gripped your arms or kissed your cheek or even hugged you. Apart from tugging you down onto the couch and pressing his chest against your back. But you know better than to think there’s more to those touches. You know better than to expect that kind of affection from a man like Dabi.

So then…why now?

With a shaky breath, you squeeze your eyes shut and begin to speak. “I’m just…tired and pissed. Tired of being the only one around here who seems to give a damn. Tired of feeling like nothing I do is good enough—no matter how hard I try. It’s just so…fucking frustrating!”

Your eyes are no longer hot with tears; instead your nails are cutting into your palms, teeth bared against the chill of the night air.

“I try and try and smile as much as I can, but it never gets me anywhere, and I’m just so damn sick of it! And some people only make it worse—no, most people do! But if they don’t really care then why should I? Maybe that’s my fault though, for expecting too much from…”

Your voice dies in your throat when you feel a faint tremble against your fingers. You hadn’t realized that, in the midst of your ranting, you’d grabbed ahold of the lapels of Dabi’s jacket, and now the man was snickering against the top of your head as he cages you in against his chest.

…What the fuck?

“Fuckin’ hell, doll,” he breathes out in a gentle voice, “if I’d known you’d look as hot as you do when you’re pissed off I would’ve ramped it up ages ago.”

Is…is he serious? You roll your eyes and shove him away, nearly knocking over the pair of drinks resting at his side.

“Shut up! I’m practically pouring my heart out and all you can do is laugh, asshole!”

But you’re giggling alongside him, despite everything. It’s weak and pitiful, but at least you’re not crying anymore. And your chest does feel a bit lighter now…

You hold out your hands for the bottle of cider, putting on your best puppy dog pleading face…to no avail as he stubs out his forgotten cigarette and reaches into his coat pocket for a fresh one.

“Don’t know, doll. I don’t want you getting sick or passing out on me.”

“C’mon, just give it to me.” At least the air is less tense. The two of you are back to normal for now. “I won’t pass out, I’ll take it slow. Now give me the drink!”

“Mmm… Dunno.” He slips a second cigarette through his lips and lights it with the tiniest blue flame from the tip of his finger.

“You got it for me in the first place, it’s not like you’re gonna drink it yourself. Now give it to me!”

“You mean the drink or something else? ’Cause I can think of a couple other things to give you right now, dollface.”

“Stop it, you know that’s not what I mean!” You shove his shoulder as hard as you can, eliciting a smug laugh from his lips. “Come on now!”

But then he leans in close—so close you can spot the little rusting staples on the corners of his mouth. “Only if you say the magic word.”

“…You’re joking.”

“Not in the slightest.” And the little upward twitch of his eyebrow pushes you over the edge.

You groan and throw your hands up in defeat. “Such a pain in the ass, fine then! I’ll do it!” Acting like you’re fucking five years old again…

A deep breath fills your chest, as you shift your eyes to meet his own. He takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing a puff of smoke directly into your face.

“…Please? Pretty please?”

“Ooh, I love when you beg for me like that,” he says slyly, and just when you prepare to swat that stupid cigarette right out of his mouth, he’s hovering the bottle of cider over your outstretched palms. “Take it slow. No need to get yourself wasted for the wrong reasons, doll.”

You huff out a soft “thanks” before taking the smallest sip you can muster, well aware of those bright blue eyes on your body. When you’re done you let out a sigh, watching him as he takes another drag, a coil of smoke pooling past his mismatched lips.

“Although,” he continues with a smirk, “I like watching you speak your mind. Should do it more often; let everyone know what you really think of ’em.”

“Ah, I don’t know about that…” You clear your throat when some of the smoke slips past your nose. “I’m not…very good at that.”

“Seemed to be just fine a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, well…I guess you’re the exception, then.” Unfortunately.

“Aww, I’m flattered.” He presses his hand to his chest, cigarette sealed between his fingers, and holds out his beer in the thin space between you. “So I’m just that special to ya, huh?”

“As if,” you murmur, clinking your drink against his own. “You just know how to push my buttons that much.”

Never mind the fact his face comes to mind practically every day of your life, even when you’re a handful of cities apart. Or the fact you keep the bathroom window unlocked every night just in case he decides to slip in for a quick visit. Or the rolls of gauze and bandages you have stuffed away under the bathroom sink, so you’re prepared if he ever comes in bleeding or burned beyond repair again.

The sly remarks, the taunting tone of voice—even the occasional dirty joke whispered against the shell of your ear. Every little bit of him just grinds your gears and makes your fingers curl. Sends a bolt of heat down your spine until you’re almost sure you’ll pass out…at least until he decides to shift that burning gaze onto something else instead.

“Anyway, how are the others?” Desperate to get his attention off you, despite the tiniest flutter in your chest. “The boss not running you too ragged, I hope?”

He shrugs his shoulders, stretching his arms above his head with a soft groan. The pit of your stomach flares up when the hem of his shirt rides up, showing a sliver of the scarred skin of his abdomen. “Not really, hasn’t been too demanding the last couple weeks.”

“That’s good to hear. At least you have some time to kill between jobs, too.”

“All the more reason to swing by here,” he adds, tapping his drink to yours before taking another sip.

You’re well aware of his less than favorable views of the world you live in, and the profession that comes along with them. It wasn’t hard to piece together; one too many refusals of going to the hospital rather than your tiny apartment when he needed some patching up led you to convince him to cough it up. Not that he shied away from villainous activities in your presence. Just spared you from the details of some of his more gruesome jobs. And at the end of the day, a small part of you is thankful for that, even after all this time.

The two of you slip into easy conversation between sips, a thin trail of smoke hovering over your heads. He keeps the names of his cohorts under wraps, as though they’re not blasted over the evening news every other day or so. You’ve only had the pleasure of meeting Toga, after she stubbornly—and not so stealthily—followed Dabi to one of your nightly meetups on this very rooftop. She’s not so bad, once you look past the sharpened blades strapped around her waist and thighs. A bit hyper and outgoing, but she can be a lot of fun to hang around with.

She’s always begging you to spend a girls’ night with her to talk about boys, but you know you’ll never hear the end of it from Dabi if you agreed—meeting up with a dangerous villain on your own, knowing full well they could kill you at any moment, and everything along those lines. He fails to see any irony in this; when you asked him about it one night, he simply slung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close.

“You said it yourself, doll, I’m the only exception around here.”

Still, once in a while you’ll get a text from an unknown number (probably one of those burner phones Dabi’s always using), and you’ll end up spending the rest of the night talking to Toga. She’s a great listener, too—and a master at keeping secrets. Even without the threat of a fiery demise, she’s promised not to spill to the rest of their little band about your relationship with Dabi.

If you can even call it that, at this point.

“Just so you know,” he breaks the silence with a grunt, “don’t look for me in the next week or so.” His voice is softer now, taking a longer drag from his cigarette than before. “Something’s come up, boss needs everyone this time.”

“Oh…okay.”

Your knuckles hurt from how hard you’re clutching the bottle. He never means it, whenever he gives a date like that. A few days could easily turn into a few months—a couple weeks at most, if you were lucky. Worst case scenario, this could very well be the last time you saw him.

Heroes did it all the time. How many sullen faces flashed over the news at night, sharing bittersweet memories of their loved ones lost to needless combat? You never saw yourself as a fan of heroes growing up, never even aspired to be one yourself. It wasn’t a lifestyle that appealed to you, with how isolated it seemed to be. And you were well aware of the risks that came with being one, or even caring for one.

It’s the same for any villain out there, maybe even more. Treat each day as though it’s your last. Otherwise you’ll end up cuffed and chained in a cell—or maybe even six feet underground. There’s no room for meaningless attachments or unwanted feelings. Squash those down now while you can, or you’ll regret it even more down the line.

This would be the sixth time Dabi’s left you. At least this time he’s given you a fair warning.

“…How long will you be gone?”

“Can’t say.” Another drag, just one more sip of his beer. The hollow sound it gives as he places it down makes you feel a bit better about your own drinking. At least I’m not the only one who’s almost finished. “No way of knowing how long this’ll take.”

“Oh.” Just drop it, you’ll only get yourself worked up. “…So no Toga either then, huh?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Sadly no—but she’s never gonna shut up about you until we get back. Little shit,” he adds under his breath.

“…Okay.”

This time he turns to look at you; you give him a smile, trying to ignore the swirling in the pit of your stomach.

“You don’t sound okay.”

“Hm? Nah, I’ll be fine. You got shit to do, I get it. I’ll just be waiting for you until you get back.”

If you come back.

It makes your stomach squirm, the thought of not having Dabi in your life anymore. He’s an asshole, no way around it. He’s the reason your couch constantly smells of burnt skin and smoke, the reason for all those bloody bandages clogging up the little trash can you have in the bathroom. He keeps you awake until the ungodly hours of early morning, has a habit of stealing snacks from the fridge whenever he pleases, and always has you on edge whenever you’re out in public. As though any random passerby will catch a whiff of smoke from your clothes and immediately trace it back to Dabi.

But he’s also the reason you’re not as scared walking home in the dark anymore. The reason you watch the sun go down with a smile, wondering if tonight he’ll stop by for a quick visit. The reason you’re not as lonely as you used to be. He might be a villain, but he’s a damn good security blanket. Not to mention a free heater whenever the nights get cold.

“You go do what you gotta do, and don’t worry about me, alright?”

You can’t help but grimace at the bottle in your hand—not a drop left inside. Wordlessly he plucks another from the cooler, flicks the cap off with ease and passes it towards you. The alcohol still burns down your throat, though not as strong as before.

Just don’t leave me out here all by myself.

The next few minutes crawl by in complete silence, save for the sounds of the city below. He presses his cigarette into the stone before lighting up a fresh one with the flame at his fingertip.

A sudden boldness grabs ahold of you, and you find yourself motioning to the little cancer stick between his lips, before tapping your finger against your mouth. He shakes his head with a soft laugh, taking another puff and plucking it from his lips.

“I’m startin’ to think I’m a bad influence on you, doll. Drinking, smoking… What happened to that good girl image of yours, huh?”

Your nose scrunches up at the smoke near your face. “You were the one who thought I had that image—I never claimed to have it myself.”

A quick inhale, a glowing speck of blue, and suddenly you’re coughing up a storm, pounding at your chest with your fist.

“You sure about that?” He’s outright laughing now, as he reaches in the cooler for another beer. “Still can’t handle a tiny bit of smoke, huh?”

“I can handle it just fine. I spend all my time with you, after all!”

The laughter dies down, the cigarette’s back in his hand…and your stomach twists when you start to feel that heavy weight settling back in your chest.

You’re going to miss these nights. Just being stupid with him over a couple of drinks, as though you’re the only two people in the world. That damn smirk, those cocksure blue eyes, the way he always seems to find his grip on your shoulder, your hips, your—

“Pass me your phone.”

You quirk an eyebrow but obey nevertheless. Not the smartest move, handing a well-known villain your phone, but you’ve done worse than that in his presence. You still remember the night you gave him your number, the second time he found himself in your apartment, bloodied and beaten and leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter. You had rolled your eyes, grabbed the nearest pen you could find, and scrawled the digits on the palm of his hand.

“In case you need a doctor again,” you sneered, and he only responded with a smirk. “Keep this up and I might start charging you for your visits.”

But he kept coming back, and you never did charge him.

It takes him a few moments to find whatever he’s looking for. Hell, he could be sifting through all your personal texts to your family and you would be none the wiser.

A cool breeze slips through the air; you bring my knees up to your chest and continue to stare at the city below. Listening to the furious clicking of keys, the soft hum when Dabi finally seems to find what he’s been looking for.

A soft tune fills the air around you. He places your phone on the little slab of stone between you, looking rather pleased with himself as he turns the volume up to the highest setting. And before you can blink he’s pushing himself to his feet, his cigarette forgotten beside his drink.

He snaps his fingers, taps his heel with each beat of the song. It’s an older one, a song you haven’t heard in quite a few years. Not something you would associate with the villain beside you. Then again he’s always been full of surprises, hasn’t he?

He spins on his heel—nearly knocking over his beer can—and flashes you a smirk. It’s hard to keep a straight face as you watch him swaying from side to side, the elated look on his face making your throat close up all over again.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you, only twirls around once more in time with the music. But then he’s smirking again, stretching a hand out to you. You shake your head as fast as you can, and that fuzzy feeling in your chest only worsens as he slowly makes his way over to you.

“Ah, I…I don’t really dance.”

“Too bad.”

A startled yelp fills your ears, your shoes scraping against the rooftop as he pulls you into his chest. Fingers laced around your wrist, his other hand pressed against the small of your back. Too warm—your hand slips against his chest, in the dip of skin between his scars and the collar of his shirt.

“D-Dabi, I’m serious!” Another gasp as he tugs you in and spins around. It’s a miracle you manage not to step on his heavy boots. “I can’t dance!”

“If you think you can’t dance, you haven’t been doing it right, doll.”

It’s almost overwhelming, being this close to him, face to face like this. So close you can count each individual staple embedded in the skin of his face, holding him together. The ridges of scarred skin beneath his eyes, the glimmer of the triple piercings on the side of his nose—

Fuck, he’s staring—I’m staring—!

“Aww, what’s the matter?” You can barely hear the music anymore, with his voice so close to your ear. “Still scared of me? Thought you were braver than this.”

“I am! You’re just…” An insufferable piece of shit. A constant headache to deal with. A cocky villain who thinks he can sweet talk me into anything he wants to do. “…Just…you.”

“I’m flattered, doll. That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He spins you both around one more time, keeping his hand firm against your back. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you got a soft spot for me.”

“As if!” You hate to say it, but it’s getting a bit easier to move your feet, keeping rhythm with his own. “I don’t think I could ever have a soft spot for you.”

“No? Well, that’s a shame. I was kinda hopin’ for a different answer.”

Suddenly he’s pushing you away, keeping his hold on your wrist, snickering at the soft grunt that slips through your lips. He yanks you back in, twirling you beneath your clasped hands, before your back slams into his chest, and his arms coil around your waist.

“For someone who claims they can’t dance, you’re not half bad.” You can feel him smirk against your cheek as your blood freezes in your veins. So close, so fucking close. “You have no problem keeping up with me.”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you choke out as he readjusts his grip, shifting you around so your chest is against his own once more. “You’re throwing me from side to side. Is this what you call dancing, Dabi?”

He traces his lips with his tongue, and suddenly you can’t stop staring at the little silver piercing right on the tip. Wait, how long has he had that? And have I seriously just noticed that now?!

“It’s dancing as long as you’re having fun.” His voice is a low growl in his chest, sending a surge of heat right to your stomach. “And I’m having a blast right now, doll.”

You suck in a breath at the touch of his fingers against your back, slipping under your shirt to graze the skin beneath. He quirks an eyebrow, readjusting his grip on your wrist, before spinning you around one more time.

Fine. He wants to play like that then, huh?

Before you can think about it, you’re wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, pushing into his chest with all your might. He stumbles briefly before regaining his step—but you’re already leaning in close, lips pressed against the shell of his scarred ear.

“And what would you do if I said yes?” Suddenly you’re grateful for the alcohol coursing through your veins, giving you that extra leap of courage to pull this little act off. “If I told you I had a special spot for you, huh?”

But he doesn’t falter like you thought he would. Instead he jerks his body to the side, tugging you down until he’s dipping you towards the edge of the roof. The city sounds are little more than low hums; completely irrelevant with those bright blue eyes on your own.

“That depends. What would you want me to do?”

“Dunno.” The words spill out faster than you can stop them. “I’m down for anything you have in mind.”

“Is that so?”

It’s only when he pulls you back into his chest that you realize the mistake you’ve made. The hand around your wrist comes to rest against the column of your throat. The tiniest squeeze has you wincing, your face flushed with heat, your heart exploding in your chest. His fingers heat up ever so slightly, and a shiver drips down your spine.

His flames have never frightened you. They’ve killed plenty of people, reduced countless buildings to rubble and ash. They’ve left ragged scars along his body, a testament of just how dangerous they can be if left unchecked. He could easily kill you if he loses control—or simply if he feels like it.

But fear is the last thing you’re feeling right now. All you can see are those beautiful blue eyes, the same shade as the sparks emitting from his palm, the scent of smoke still strong in the air…

And the sudden rush of heat that’s pooling in your stomach at the mischievous glint in his eye.

“Be careful, doll, or else I might get the wrong idea.”

I can stop and leave right now if you want. Tell me what you want.

You should listen to him. You should shake your head and admit he’s right, that you’re way in over your head, so your night can continue underneath the stars. Before one or both of you has drunk too much and you stumble back down the fire escape and into your apartment. You should stop this before you do something you know you’ll regret in the morning. Before you end up ruining whatever dynamic you have, crushing any sparks of that forbidden something else you’ve been wondering about for the last few months.

But instead you curl your fingers around his own, pressing them deeper into the skin of your throat.

“Trust me,” your voice is barely a whisper, “I want this.”

In the few times you’ve imagined kissing Dabi—when you’re unable to fall asleep in the dead of night, or when you’ve had a few more drinks than usual—you always thought he would be rough. Quick and searing like his flames, leaving no room for you to breathe. You wondered if he would be demanding with his hands, tugging at your hair, nipping at your mouth, or slotting himself between your legs. He seems like the kind of guy to have priorities like that.

You suck in a breath as he leans in, mismatched lips pressing against your own. The first thing you notice is the slight tremble of his palm, the way his fingers quiver beneath your own. But he’s pulling away from your throat before you can blink, curling his hand around the back of your head.

His skin is burning against your own, but his mouth is startlingly soft. Even with his scars and piercings he’s still so gentle, cradling you into his body as though you might break. Soon your hands are in his hair, fingers tugging at black tendrils and pulling him in as close as you possibly can.

The song finally ends, a breath of silence before another one takes its place. It’s a slower beat, one meant for romantic dances or sensual dates between lovers. A part of you wonders if he chose these songs on purpose, just to try to win you over.

Your breaths are getting shorter with every traded kiss; your knees begin to buckle as he slides a hand down to rest at your waist. Every inch of you is blazing with heat, the alcohol making your head swim, your nails desperately scraping at the hem of his shirt, your chest tightening at the ragged patch of skin splayed across his stomach—

Your heel knocks into something on the roof, the sound of a splash filling your ears. The two of you jerk away from each other in time to see the bottle of cider tipped over, the alcohol dripping down the edge of the roof.

“Better watch yourself there,” he snickers against the shell of your ear. “Don’t want you getting hurt all the way up here.”

“I’m fine!” But your words are already starting to blend together, the faint pounding of your head matching the beat of your heart.

“Like hell you are—two drinks in and you’re already tipsy. Let’s call it a night, sweetheart.”

“I said I’m fine!” You can’t stop yourself from smiling as you swipe your palms over your eyes, watching as he leans down to grab the (now) empty bottles and cans. “You…you just made it worse, you know!”

Kissing me like that, how can I not act a little tipsy?

“Aww, you’re so sweet.” He throws the rest of the drinks into the cooler, flicks the remains of his final cigarette over the side of the roof. “C’mere, let’s get you to bed.”

“But you’re tipsy too, aren’t you?”

“Only a little,” he replies with a smirk, leading you down the fire escape as carefully as he can. “I know how to handle my alcohol, unlike a certain someone I know.”

“…Shut up or you’ll be dancing alone next time…”

“That’s a shame, I had a completely different dance in mind.” He licks his lips again, flashing that damn piercing on his tongue, as though you’re  not already lightheaded enough. “But we’ll save that for next time, doll. When we can both remember it.”

“Huh, bold of you to think I’d want to remember it.”

His arm presses into the rung above your head, caging you against the steps of the fire escape, just outside your balcony door. It’s hard to stop the smile on your face as he leans in close, looking rather insulted at your little comment.

“You really don’t think I can make you feel good?”

“I don’t know—if you’re half as good as you are at annoying me…then I might have some pretty high expectations.”

He chuckles, his smoky breath warm against your cheeks. “Then I’ll just have to prove you wrong when I get back.”

His words are a kick in the gut, a grim reminder of the reality around you. He slips your phone back into your hand and slides the door open to let you both in. All the while your mind is racing, wondering if anything you say will get him to—

“Stay with me.”

“Already planned on it, doll.”

He sets the cooler down on the counter before flopping down in his usual spot on the couch. His long legs bend over the arm as he shuffles out of his coat, the scent of ash strong as you settle into his side.

But before he can kiss you again you grab his face with both hands, bringing his eyes up to meet your own.

“I mean it—stay with me. Not just for the night���” Your mouth goes dry, the words aren’t coming as easily as you want them to. “…You just…you better fuckin’ come back to me, alright? Or else I’m locking you out of my apartment for good!”

You expect him to roll his eyes, to laugh you off or even tease you for being so clingy. But instead he tugs you into his chest, his lips warm against your forehead.

“Yeah, you got it. I’ll come back, doll.”

You don’t know if you believe him, if you should believe him. Not when you both know you’re going to wake up to an empty couch tomorrow morning, only the lasting smell of smoke to keep you company.

“I’m holding you to that,” you murmur, pressing a finger to the line of staples running down his chin. He twists away with a grimace, and the ache in your chest slowly begins to melt away.

“Fine, whatever. Just go to sleep already, before you really do end up kicking me out.”

You roll your eyes before nestling your face into the crook of his neck. “Suit yourself—goodnight, asshole.”

“’Night, dollface.”

You know it can’t last—not for tonight, maybe not ever. Maybe it’s the alcohol swirling around in your veins, or the smell of ash so strong you think it might choke you. But suddenly you’re smiling against the scarred skin of his neck, idly tracing over the ridges and stitches left behind from his flames. The effects of the alcohol and touch of his skin are lulling you to sleep…but before you feel yourself slip away, you lean in close and press your lips to the shell of his ear.

“Better come back to me, I’m still counting on that second dance.”

[nik-barinova]

Gangplank x Zoey (OC) Headcanons

Pairing: Gangplank x OC

Fandom: League of Legends

Warnings: Minor angst, brief mention of yelling and anger management, themes of grief, some fluff if you look close enough

Musical Inspiration: American Beauty by Thomas Newman (from the movie “American Beauty”)

—————

Gangplank 100% sympathizes with Zoey and her struggling/non-existent relationship with her own father, and even to an extent understands her pain

Despite knowing Zoey can 100% fend for herself in a verbal confrontation, Gangplank is almost always the first one to step in between her and the opposing side

Zoey won’t let anyone call her by her birth name if they only met or acquainted, only by her captain name of Sombra. Gangplank not only calls Zoey by her actual name, but also many more pet names

To the public eye, Gangplank and Zoey frequently raise their voices at one another for various reasons. In private, Gangplank’s voice becomes more gentle and uses his touch as his form of apology to her

He can’t help it, but Gangplank’s eyes and even expression soften every time he sets his gaze towards Zoey

When Gangplank’s anger starts to rise, the feeling of Zoey’s hand, whether it be her eldritch hand or her human one, on his own hand and bicep plus her calm gaze without speaking a word calms him down faster

When he first bared witness to Zoey transforming into her eldritch form, Zoey originally was anxious he would look away in fear or be unable to comprehend her true half form. That all washed away when he reached out to her for her skeletal face and began petting her, even placing his forehead against her with what she swore was a small grin

Their number one favorite way of telling each other “I love you” without actually telling each other “I love you”? Forehead touches

Gangplank knows he’s a huge guy in terms of body mass, muscle and height, but he’s always so gentle with Zoey in private, he was afraid he would hurt her while holding her hand

He still has not forgiven himself for not going back for her when he survived the events of Burning Tides and everything that had transpired during the Ruined King, continuing to make her believe he was truly dead

He will sometimes fake falling asleep so that she would follow suit and be sound asleep, allowing Gangplank to reopen his eyes and look down at her, both admiring her features and letting tears of regret fall from his eyes

“I love you…” Silence. “… and I’m. I’m so sorry, my love…”

Gangplank has lost plenty of people before, they’ve been nothing more than just another expendable crew member or business partner. But the thought of losing Zoey is something he cannot bear thinking about and has become quite protective of her

Any moment alone he can get alone with Zoey is a moment he cherishes, he doesn’t need any words to express his love for her and neither does she. Whether it may be sitting together looking out at the stars with her in is arms or even a kiss, it’s enough for him

Hearing Zoey cry is a sound Gangplank hates and will hold her in his arms for as long as she needs. It breaks his cold heart seeing her like this

He hadn’t told Zoey yet, but Gangplank is grateful she was able to keep the Jagged Hooks afloat along with her own crew/gang, the Chimera

[nanamimizz]

tags: fluff, minors dni, reader is shorter than tobirama and is described as such, fem reader, this is very self indulgent sorry, kissing, sorta of cuddling, sitting in his lap, reader has hair that can be touched, tobirama’s kinda clingy when in love lol. @cyancherub @hanmas - some tobirama to keep you guys afloat as i write the fuller tobirama fic <3 1.5k words

synopsis: tobirama tries his utmost to milk as much affection from you in your time together.

sorry for being crazy but i am once again having thoughts of tobirama and how much he enjoys being bigger than you, being stronger than you good god - he likes standing behind you, walking behind you; how you have to turn and crane your head to look at him makes his stony face smile, lips tugging upward and his eyes crinkle. you visit him in the early noon, coming to his office so he can have at least one break. you’ve brought him lunch, which isn’t unusual as you’ve decided that you have had enough of him paying for shared meals. neatly packed in a bento box - fish, rice, mushrooms and other vegetables line the corners of the box and he smiles at your efforts.

when he bites the fish he blinks at the flavor; it’s light and fresh, you probably got up early to head to the fish market for the first catch. he casts a glance your way, sitting next to you he towers and takes up more of the couch in the office than you do. you take small bites, gently taking the flesh of the fish into your mouth by your teeth and he’s enamored by the delicate motions in which your traverse the world in. a strand of your hair falls, blocking his view of the happy look on your face from eating delicious food so without second thought, with rational thinking he reached over and tucked the strand back.

you look up at him with innocent eyes, his palm - warm and pale rests at your cheek as he smooths his hand to hold your plush skin in the worn, scarred skin of his hand. his thumb rubs into the high bone of your cheek and Tobirama looks at you with such softness you are helpless at how your cheeks warm. blinking up at him you ask,

“is something wrong tobirama? is the food bad?” with a tilt of your head (or rather as good as you can tilt it in his grasp, he tries to ignore the heat that ignites within him at how ease it is to keep you in place) he takes in the sound of your voice, it feels him with the memories of happier times - of when he was a child and hashirama taught him how to turn a blade of grass into a whistle. he blinks slowly, the way cats do to show affection before he chuckles softly at you.

“no, the food is wonderful, thank you for bringing it to me. it’s just…” he trails off, swallowing when he looks at you once again - takes in how your eyelashes frame your eyes, the softness of your skin and the fullness of your lips. rarely does tobirama allow himself to feel such lavish emotions, his heart hardened by the tragedies of his youth but here, in the office of the village that promises better he allows himself to find home in the heart you had opened with just a smile.

“you look very beautiful today. i couldn’t help but stare.”

he chuckles again when he feels the skin under his thumb warm from his words - you even hide your face, bring your sleeve covered hand to hide behind and are unable to meet his gaze. it amuses him, you are honest person through and through - do you really think such a simple action would spare you from his affections? he reaches over and takes your hand in his ; humming at the difference in size and in softness. he folds his fingers under yours, thumb resting above your knuckles of your fingers and brings your hand to his lips. softly he pressed a kiss to the knuckles looking at you from over the crest of your hand.

“why do you deny my affections? do you think you could hide from me to easily?” he asks and you know he is teasing, amusement dances in the red of his eyes and you helplessly stammer lost in the crimson of his gaze. slowly, to tease you more, he raises your hand higher as he lets go of your fingers and lets your sleeve fall down - exposing the underside of your wrist and presses another kiss to spot where the veins cross and the pulse can be felt. you bristle and flinch at the action, flustered and shy as you gasp softly from his ministrations.

“s-stop that, it tickles me.” you plead, unconvincing and voice high.

“really? i’ll do well to remember that.” he hums, eyes crinkling in amusement at how simple it was to reduce you to this state, eyes wide and shining with your shoulders raised to your ears as you avoid his gaze. he leans in, broad shoulders and chest barricading you to the arm of the sofa furthest from the door, and you hunch further in as if to disappear into yourself. the food is forgotten, he finds that something sweeter needs his attention.

he smells of the cypress tree and the air tastes of spring water when he is near, his arm rests on the back of the sofa and you squeak when he bumps heads with you. breathlessly you laugh, joy cutting through your fluster like a knife, ‘he’s like a cat’.

“what is so amusing?” he asks, pressing another kiss to your warm cheeks, his own pulling back as he smiles softly at the chime of your laughter.

“you’re like a cat, the way you bumped heads with me.” you say, smiling shyly and your eyes gazing at his collarbones; you can’t meet his gaze when he’s like this, it’s too much for your delicate heart. he hums thoroughly entertained and enamored you, he cocks his head and smirks looking at you with lidded eyes. the ticking of the clock in the room lets him know his time with you is nearing its end so he decides to play a quick game before you leave.

“give me a kiss.” he says and you peak behind him, at the door craning your head over his shoulders and he tries to ignore the heat in his spine when he sees how much you stretch to get a good look. when you see no one, you turn back to him your smile aglow as lean close to him, he can smell of tea, citrus and the home you two share.

“don’t worry, i’d know if someone was at the door.” he reassures, his hand coming to rest at the slope of you waist. you stiffen, the heat of his palm burning through the yukata you wear and you flush of the intimate touch. your hands reach and rest on the panels of his face, thumbs rubbing the hollow of his cheeks right underneath the thin red markings that decorate his handsome face. you pressed your lips to his, a soft and delicate kiss and tobirama sighs into it.

he brings his other hand to your waist, effortlessly handling you to sit in his lap and he greedily swallows the squeak you let out in return. you pull away, hand on your chest and covering your mouth as he grins slightly you, now sitting on his lap. his thighs are sturdy and strong beneath you, stable even when under your weight and you try to not let your thoughts run wild. he chuckles as your modesty, his thumbs rub circles in the material that covers your hips.

“tobirama! what if someone walked it?” you scold, voice high from the embarrassment.

“then i would have known, sweet girl.” was his response, ever the smart ass. you pout at him and move to get up however tobirama easily keeps you in rightful spot, situated on his lap. his hands almost cover the circumference of your hips, fingers sinking in the plush of your soft skin. he leans to press his forehead to your chest and you sigh contently.

most people would assume senju tobirama to be a cold lover but that’s the furthest thing from the truth, he enjoys being preened and taken care of like a tomcat and enjoys resting against you even more. you let your hand run though his hair, giving him peace for a few moments as the clock hits the hour. 

“i need to go now” you whisper, and he nods but doesn’t let go. not yet, not when you are soft and warm and sweet and everything he wants in this moment. you coo, pressing a kiss to his brow and he looks at you with gentle eyes.

“you’ll have me tonight.” you say but it’s a promise and tobirama knows, so he let’s you go and take your bento as you straighten yourself up. he moves to side so you walk in front of him and he keeps his eyes trained on to your smaller frame until you meet the door. you smile at him, reaching on your toes to kiss him and he meets you halfway, his hand gently caressing your hair as he pulls back.

“i’ll have you when i’m home.” he repeats.

you smile and nod. the door closes and tobirama, the man who dedicates every waking moment to work, desperately wishes for the day to end.

[coffeebanana]

Shameless Self-Promo, Part...Idk?

Since I haven’t done one of these things since January...here we go again with some fics I’ve written in the last few months. Planning on doing another post like this soon with fics I’ve read, but that will require a little more organization on my part, haha. Anyways...

Love Square

Put Your Head On My Shoulder - Aged up PRPR. Essentially, Adrien keeps trying to get Marinette to rest by asking for cuddles. Paper Me With Kisses - Aged up PRPR (again!). Marinette is keeps failing to confess her feelings to Adrien, so...she dresses him up as Box Noir? Build You Up - Post-Strike Back fic taking place the weekend after the events of the finale. School is one of the last places Adrien wants to be that morning, and as it turns out...he’s not the only one. Emotional Hurt/Comfort and Identity Reveal. Can’t Fool Me - Marinette and Adrien decide to impersonate their superhero partners for April Fool’s Day...What on Earth could go wrong with that plan? Fuzzy Blanket Feelings - Post-Hawk Moth defeat PRPR. Marinette and Adrien are staying at the Guardians’ temple while the Guardians try to wake up Émilie. Adrien cant sleep; he feels lonely, unwanted, and uncertain about his future. Luckily, he’s not the only one who wishes he had some company. In other words, there were two beds but one was ignored.

Rare Pairs

The Way I Am - Alyanette. Established relationship. Plotless fluff wherein Marinette makes a mess in an attempt to accomplish some guardian stuff Something I Need - Lukadrien. One-shot set in my Marigami College AU. The best boyfriends are the ones who can get you to put down the physics, remind you that your best is good enough, and drag you to bed with kisses. At least, that's how Adrien feels about Luka. Never Gonna Give You Up - Feluka. Everything seems to be going wrong about Felix’s trip to see his long-distance boyfriend, but Luka knows how to cheer him up just the same. Yes, the title is a rickroll but I swear it’s a real fic. Take On The World - Julerose. Juleka and Rose stay up late, reflecting on their relationship and sharing their hopes and worries for the future. so if you think it’s love, it is (and if you think it’s trust, it is) - Julenette with background Love Square and Julerose (Discussions of Polyamory). Dating Marinette...it's not something Juleka expected, but it's good. It's great, even. Except for the nagging voice in the back of Juleka's mind that insists Marinette's not entirely over Adrien, and the other voice insisting that Juleka's not entirely over Rose. But maybe...maybe neither of them have to choose.

WIPs (Please Pester Me To Finish These)

Happier (1/4 chapters complete) - Adrigaminette. Set after Truth and Lies. After her break-up with Adrien, Kagami tries to be happy when she sees Adrien and Marinette grow closer. She is happy for them. She just...can’t help but want that for herself. She can’t help but want them for herself. The Simple Life™ (2/3 chapters complete) - Having been told that the “rich kids” couldn’t last a week without their family money to keep them afloat, Adrien, Chloé, and Kagami plan to spend the next month living as roommates in a basic apartment. With a normal person's budget. Without any of them really knowing how to cook, or clean, or...what is it that regular people even do Sure, Chloé wants to cry for every single second of it, Kagami seems to have made it her life mission to annoy Chloé for every waking moment, and Adrien's ready to tear his hair out, but...whatever. They'll be fiiiiine. It can’t be that hard, right? ...Right? Softer Than His Stupid Shirt (5/15(?) chapters complete) - He was just a guy in a bar, she was just a girl in a bar...Until Marinette wakes up to find a naked stranger on her floor, only to realize he's not really a stranger, but the guy whose face is on half of the billboards of Paris. And holy crap, what is Adrien Agreste doing here when she's supposed to start an internship at his father's company today?

[eddies-weirdo]

I'll See You Again

Summary: Just some sad fluff. <3

The hot July air was stifling, even in front of the two fans you had pointed at you. The comic book store was empty, it'd been that way all day. You lean back in your chair behind the counter, head tilted over the headrest staring up at the ceiling. You glance up at the clock on the wall, 3:38, and smile. Henderson will be here soon. You close your eyes and absentmindedly trace your fingers on the bite mark scars on your thigh. It'd been 126 days since that day.

...

Eddie grabbed your arm before you could climb the sheets through the portal. "Hey promise me something ok. If it starts to go south -"

"Eddie I'm not going to let you talk like that." You look up at him and pull him in close to you. "We're going to be fine." He places his forehead against yours and holds you tightly, "Yeah, we will be." He tried to sound reassuring but you could hear the uneasiness in his voice. After a minute you both hear Dustin say "Gross guys." Eddie leans over and punches him in the arm lovingly.

...

You snap back to reality as you hear your name loudly from the curly haired kid standing at the counter. "Earth to y/n?" "I'm here Dustybun, what's up?". "Ugh, only Suzie can call me that I told you." "Sure bud" you say laughing. Honestly you don't think you would've made it the last few months without him. "Did you get the new source book in?" He asks excitedly. You play coy, "Whatever do you mean?" You stand and pretend to look around like you don't know exactly where everything is in your small store. "What did you call it, a 'source book'?" You say grinning at Dustin. He leans across the counter with a serious look on his face "Y/n this isn't a joking manner". You laugh and bend down behind the counter "Oh you mean this source book!" You say holding up a new dungeons and dragons book that you got in yesterday. Happily, Dustin takes it from you and starts flipping through the pages. He excitedly starts telling you about the contents of the book, rambling off new rules and new subclasses to you. You smile at him as you take out two cokes from your fridge in the back for the two of you. This store had become his and the rest of the gangs new hangout since everyone got back together. As Dustin talks at you, you look over the boxes and shelves of comics and toys. When you inherited the place from your dad after high school three years ago, you didn't think it'd be the new home for the Hellfire club.

...

The sky swirled gray and sparked red with lightning. You and Dustin sat holding the lifeless body of the man you loved. Dustin soon realized that you weren't responsive either, it was like you had shut down. "Y/n, we have to get out of here." No response. Your hand was still holding Eddie's bloodied one. Dustin looked around for a way to get the three of you out of here, but found nothing. "Eddie will be mad if anything happens to her," he hobbled around to you and tried to get you to look at him instead of Eddie. "We need to get somewhere safe y/n, Steve will know what to do." He tries to get you to stand but with his own twisted ankle he couldn't lift you, you were like dead weight. He let out a haggard sigh and hugged you tightly, "I'm sorry I couldn't save him. Please let me save you." With that, you stood up in a trance and he was able to lead you to the trailer.

...

To be honest you don't really remember much from the several weeks that followed his death. You have flashes of being back in the trailer holding Dustin's hand, Steve and Robin helping you into a hospital bed, the gang taking turns visiting you, and Dustin reading to you different comics from the shop. It had turned out that Nancy was the one keeping the shop afloat with help from Mike on what comics needed to be ordered for the week. "You good?" you hear Dustin ask. You quickly wipe your eyes before answering "Yep, everyone should be here soon D&D. You ready Mr. DM?" You come around the counter to a tight hug from him, "It's ok, I miss him too." After a minute the two of you get the table and chairs out for tonight's game.

As Mike and the rest of the new Hellfire Club pile into their new meeting spot, you find your place at the end of the table in Eddie's old thrown. Steve and Robin show up with enough pizza for a small army once their shift ended. As Dustin starts the session, answering questions from Robin and Steve every few minutes of course, you take in the moment and look up at the red and black guitar mounted up high on the wall looking over the table. You think to yourself, "I'm looking out for your sheepies my love, I'll see you again one day."

[starryevermore]

overprotective ✧ sam wilson

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Ok but ya know the scene where Bucky annoys Sam and flirts with his sister Sarah? What if Buckys sister turned up too (reader) and Sams like “payback baby” … and then she agrees to a date? And buckys suddenly paying attention and is like hell nah?

pairing: sam wilson x barnes!fem!reader

summary: sam flirts with bucky’s sister. 

word count: 1,035

warnings?: slight au where everyone’s just normal folks, fluff, not proofread

MASTER SPY (PART 2)

Sam couldn’t tell if Bucky was actually interested in his sister or if Bucky was just trying to rile him up. Regardless, Sam was about five steps away from shoving Bucky off the boat and acting like it was an “accident”. Seriously, did friendship mean nothing to this guy?! Wasn’t the number one rule in the bro code that sisters were off limits? Did this guy have no integrity? 

The only thing stopping Sam from shoving off the boat was seeing how happy Sarah looked. He couldn’t remember the last time she looked so happy, smiled so big, seemed so carefree. From losing a husband to raising to boys to trying to keep the family business afloat…It was a lot for anyone. Even when Sam stepped in to help out, Sarah still felt so much pressure resting on her shoulders. But, even if Sarah was happy with Bucky’s flirting…that didn’t mean Sam had to be happy about it. 

Even if it was Bucky, a person he considered to be his best friend. A person who was his best friend. But his sister and his best friend? No way. Not a fucking chance. There were boundaries. Family was off limits. 

But, if he said anything? He knew it wouldn’t do anything. Hell, he had said something. And what did that get him? Bucky flirting with Sarah even more. 

Perhaps he should’ve paid more attention to Steve when he said that Bucky could charm any woman he met. Sam just thought that Steve was over-exaggerating. Because, back then, Steve had no game. Hell, Steve barely had any game when Sam met him. Bucky probably could’ve gotten one girl’s number in front of Steve, and Steve would think that Bucky wooed the entire bar.

But goddammit that blond fucker was telling the truth. 

“Bucky, I swear to god I’m going to—” Sam began to hiss when Sarah was out of earshot, having gone to get herself some lemonade. 

“Oh, are we threatening Buck? Count me in.”

Sam whipped around, watching as a woman stepped onto the boat. She looked familiar in the same way a relative of a close friend looks familiar. He looked to Bucky, trying to see if Bucky recognized the woman. Bucky was groaning, shaking his head. They knew each other, it seemed. 

“Not that I’m opposed to a beautiful woman showing up unannounced,” Sam said, “but who are you?”

“Y/N,” you said when you reached him, holding out your hand. “Y/N Barnes.”

Sam took your hand and brought it to his mouth without thinking, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I would say I’m happy to finally meet you, but Buck never mentioned you before.” Sam looked over at Bucky, raising a brow.“You never told me you had a sister.”

“Half-sister,” you corrected. Sam looked back at you. “Raised separately. I actually didn’t even know he existed until about a year or two ago.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re wishing you still didn’t know he existed,” Sam teased. “I’ve been trying to ditch him for years, but—”

“—he sort of leaches on and won’t let go? Trust me, I know the feeling.“ You smiled, flashing your pearly whites at him. And though Sam didn’t consider himself the nervous type, seeing your radiant smile made butterflies take off his stomach. “He invited me. I hope I’m not overstepping or anything?”

“Not at all,” Sam assured you. “Hey, do you want some lemonade or something? Sarah, my sister, just made some. I don’t mind getting you a glass.”

“That’d be wonderful, thank you,” you said. 

Sam nodded, walking off in the direction Sarah had went. Behind him, he heard Bucky tell you “excuse me for a moment” before a flurry of footfalls came. Sam didn’t have to look to know Bucky was following him. “Can I help you?” he asked without turning. 

“Dude, don’t flirt with my sister!” Bucky said.

Sam grabbed a glass, waiting for Sarah to finish pouring herself some lemonade. When she finished, he took the pitcher and poured a glass for you. He could tell that Bucky was getting antsy, waiting for some snarky reply. And while Sam did have one on the tip of his tongue, he thought it was more fun to see Buck sweat. 

So, instead, he ignored Bucky, walking back over to you, Bucky still hot on his heels. “A lemonade for the lady,” Sam said, handing you the glass. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” you said, smiling at him. 

“Hey, I know we just met and all,” Sam said, smiling at you, “but would you want to go on a date sometime?”

“Absolutely not!” Bucky interrupted. “She doesn’t want to go on a date with you. She’s happy to be single.”

You ignored your brother, your smile growing wider. “Cold lemonade and an offer for a hot date? How could I ever say no?”

“Like this: NO. N-o, spells no,” Bucky said. 

“Oh, what, you can flirt with his sister, but he can’t flirt with me?” you asked, looking over at Bucky. “Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.” To Sam, you said, “How ‘bout tonight, at eight, maybe?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“It sounds horrible!” Bucky said. 

“I’ll see you then. Maybe sure to knock my socks off.”

“The socks are staying on!” Bucky said. 

“Oh,” you said, “and maybe make sure Bucky can’t interrupt us, yeah? Hate to see him ruin a perfectly good date.”

“You already read my mind,” Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“There will be no taking care of anything!” 

Sarah finally made her way back to the rest of you. “Speaking of dates,” she said, “why don’t we go out tonight, too, Buck? There’s this local art gallery that just opened that I think you’d like.”

“But—” Bucky whipped his around, looking between you and Sam and Sarah. Finally, he groaned, and said, “That…Yeah, I’d actually like that. But he’d better not break my sister’s heart!”

“If anything, I’d be breaking his heart,” you teased. You looked at Sam, and added, “Not that I plan on it.”

“Oh, darlin’, you could break my heart and I’d thank you for it.”

MASTER SPY (PART 2)

[barrysmanbun]

On the Count of Three

A/n: This isn't edited but when is any of my shit ever edited

Description: Rafe and the reader want to go to the beach but Barry wants to spend time with them at home. They compromise by going to the beach.

Prompt: Rafe and Barry + Holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together

Warnings: Rafe x Reader, Barry x Reader, Rafe x Barry, fluff, Barry is a homebody, recreational cliff jumping, sass

~~

Today is possibly the nicest day you guys have had all year, weather-wise at least. It is sunny, not a cloud in the sky but still a comfortable 70 degrees thanks to the wind. Everyone is in a good mood, and having a blast at the beach. People took the day off from work, and even metaphorically from being a pogue or a kook or a touron so they could all share the beaches on such a nice day.

All of this doesn’t explain why you, Rafe and Barry are still at his trailer, cooped up inside.

“Come on, Barry, you’ll love it I promise.” Rafe pleads, coming up behind his partner to hug him as he pops open the beer he had just retrieved from the fridge.

Barry pulls out of Rafe’s arms, shaking his head. “No, I’m not going to the damn beach. Why would I choose to be around a bunch of idiots getting sand in places where sand don’t belong when I could be here: happy and sandless with you two?”

“Y/n, can I get some help here?” He asks, plopping down onto the couch with a huff.

Rafe and Barry both turn to look at you expectantly. “Well…” You think on it… “I know a special part of the beach that I’ve never seen anyone else at. It’s secluded, lots of shade and no one will bother us.” You reach out, taking Barry’s hand in yours and running your thumb over the back of his hand.

He looks between you and Rafe before sighing. “Fine.” He gives in and Rafe’s whiney expression turns triumphant.

Barry drags his feet through getting the bags together, and when You go down your mental checklist, naming things out loud for him to check for, he only responds in half-hearted grunts. He drags his feet getting out of the car and then drags his feet all the way to the secret spot you were talking about, barely saying 5 words the whole time.

The three of you break through the small amount of underbrush you have to trek through to reach the spot and then you’re greeted by a stunning view of the clear blue sky meeting the shinning ocean horizon. The spot itself is a decent sized clearing on a small cliff maybe 30 feet above the water. There’s a small rocky pathway to the left side that’s maybe a one minute trek that can be used as stairs to a small sandy beach area.

You glance over to Barry, smiling to yourself when you see his reaction to the beautiful area.

“What do you think?” You ask, setting down your tote bag as you turn to face him.

His eyes snap to you as he schools his expression, probably hoping you didn’t see how impressed he was. “It’s alright.” He grumbles, tossing his bag down next to yours.

You pull the blanket from your bag, setting it on the ground as Rafe strips off his shirt, and begins the trek down to the beach.

“Where’s he going?” Barry asks, stretching out his neck in an attempt to get a better look without moving.

“There’s a little path that way,” You explain. “It leads to the beach area I was telling you about. You finish setting up the blanket and pull out the sunscreen. Even if Rafe is crazy enough to not wear sunscreen you’re not. “Will you be swimming with us?”

You know he had changed into swimming trunks and brought a change of shorts, or rather Rafe had forced him to, but you didn’t know if he was actually willing to swim with you guys. Barry thinks on it quietly as he watches you rub the sunscreen into your skin. When it’s time for you to do your back he walks over and takes the sunscreen from you without you even having to ask.

His rough hands gently massage the sunscreen into your skin, the both of you quiet until he finally says, “Yeah, I guess I will.”

With a gleeful smile you whip around, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you, baby.” You giggle, and then you quickly begin to apply the sunscreen to him before you drag him down the pathway.

The two of you meet Rafe there, who’s already waist-deep in the water. He turns when he sees you coming, smiling as he sees you dragging Barry behind you.

“Decided to join us, Barry?”

“Shut up, country club,” he grumbles just loud enough for Rafe to hear him. He hesitates at the water’s edge, glancing out towards the horizon then back at his partners.

“Don’t worry, you’re as far from made of sugar as someone can get. The water won’t melt you.” Rafe teases, a playful smirk blossoming on his face as Barry immediately gets a disgruntled look on his face.

“Alright, that’s it pretty boy, I’m gonna kick yo’ ass.” And with that Barry storms into the water after Rafe.

Maybe 40 minutes later the three of you pull yourselves back up to the cliffside, all smiles and loose limbs as you collapse on the blanket with tired sighs.

“You have to admit, that was a lot of fun.” You say to Barry as you grab his hand, giving it a squeeze. He rolls his eyes, not agreeing or disagreeing with what you said.

Rafe sits up on his elbows so he can see Barry from where he lays on your opposite side. “And to think none of this would have happened if we had sat on our asses in your trailer like you wanted.”

Barry turns to glare at Rafe, but the tall boy’s attention is already caught on something else. He stares towards the cliff’s edge as his expression slowly turns from teasing to scheming.

“Rafe… whatcha thinking about?” You ask, curious but also nervous. Most of his schemes end very, very badly.

“I want to jump off the cliff.” He states, then keeps to his feet with surprising ease.

You quickly stand after him, catching up only to grab his wrist and pull him back. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, baby…” You murmur, looking out at the water nervously.

“Babe.” He pulls you a couple steps forward, then motions down to the water at the edge of the cliff, “It’s maybe 25 feet, 30 if we’re pushing it. There's no rocks at the bottom, I would have noticed that when we were swimming.” He then takes both your hands in his, pulling you close to him till your chests are brushing and he can wrap his arms around your middle. “Jump with me,” He whispers sweetly, leaning over to brush his lips against yours seductively. Oh boy, are you really contemplating jumping off a cliff with this boy just because he asked nicely? Yes. Yes you are.

“Uh uh. Nope.” Barry pushes himself to his feet, shaking his head as he does. “Not happenin’.”

“Come one, Barry-” Rafe tries the same tactic on him, pulling him in and leaning down to brush a kiss to his lips but Barry simply leans back and shakes his head again.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy, baby boy, ain’t no way I’m lettin’ either of you jump off that damn cliff. Not a way in hell.”

“It’s completely safe.” Rafe tries to reason, “there’s no rocks at the bottom, we all know how to swim, it’s barely even 30 feet. We’ll be fine.” When Barry still doesn’t budge Rafe tries a different tactic. “Why don’t you come with us? It’ll be fun…” Rafe slides his hand from the middle of Barry’s back down to teasingly cup his ass, “Get the blood pumping. He murmurs, leaning in for another kiss. Barry ducks away again, shaking his head, though his movements are slower and more hesitant this time.

Rafe turns his puppy eyes on you, obviously expecting you to back him up.

You bite your lip, looking between your two partners. Rafe is set on this, you can tell by the stubborn look in his eyes, and Barry is already visibly bending to Rafe’s will. You don’t doubt Rafe’s hand still palming Barry’s ass cheek is helping with that.

With a small sigh and a glance over your shoulder and down at the water you say, “Rafe is right, Bear. It's only 30 feet. It will be fun."

Barry stares at you like you grew two heads, then slowly his shoulders slump and he lets out a groan. "Damnit," he mutters, pulling out of Rafe's arms.

"Fine. Fine, I'll fuckin' jump." He huffs, beginning to mutter under his breath, "Fuckin' crazy, ya' both are."

Rafe and you stand next to each other, facing the water, and with one last unintelligible grumble, he joins you. You wonder if Rafe is going to count to 3, or just jump, when suddenly you feel two warm hands grab ahold of your own at the same time. Rafe's hand is slightly larger, smoother, while Barry's is rough and holds onto your hand like you'll die if he doesn't.

"Alright." Rafe finally says, sounding slightly out of breath already. "On 3? One… two… three."

And then he's jumping, and so are you, pulling Barry down with you guys. Only a few seconds later you connect with the water, letting go of their hands on instinct so you can swim back to the top. You break the surface, inhaling the air deeply as you search for your partners. Rafe surfaces, then Barry, and you smile widely as you make eye contact with the both of them. A bout of giddy adrenaline rips a giggle from your throat and then all three of you are laughing as you hold yourself afloat in the water. The three of you swim the short distance to the beach.

"You two are fuckin' crazy," Barry chuckles, shaking his head with a fond look in his eyes. "You're fuckin' crazy people."

"We're your crazy people," Rafe states with a lopsided smirk, shaking the water from his hair.

Barry snorts. "You're somethin' alright."

[solarwonux]

Payment Due! || Jeon Wonwoo (7/7)

Epilogue 6 Months Together 

Pairing: Camboy!Wonwoo x f!reader || sex worker au!

w.c: 15.1k (I’m literally sorry lmao)

Genre: 18+ smut, fluff, angst

Warnings: fluff, reader is petty at some point. Mentions of period, smut (not my best scene tbh, it’s not the point of the scene so wtvr lolol) exhibitionism, dom wonwoo, spanking, riding, mentions of multiple orgasms, daddy kink. I edited this as best as I could.  

Synopsis: HYBE U one of the top highly prestigious universities in the country. A shithole, a total money making scam that liked to sucked the life out of its students. Not being able to meet the funds to pay for your tuition your best friend lets you in a little secret. A way he’s been keeping afloat for years now, easy money. The problem is you want in.

Note: thank you all so much for following me throughout this crazy journey. This is the longest series I have ever written. So it means the world to me that you guys have followed it. I’m not the best at answering comments or ask but BELIEVE me I READ everything and I screenshot them and save them in my favorites folder lolol. 

Without further ado, here’s the epilogue. Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts. xx Ending ment will be uploaded tomorrow. Thank you sooooooooooooooooooooo much from the bottom of my heart. xxxxxx

m. list || prev

End of Month 1 - Post Graduation.

“How do I look?”

Maya sat on your couch, leaning forward on her knees with her chin placed in the palm of her hands; bored.

It had been roughly four hours since she arrived at your apartment with three shopping bags full of snacks, for your highly anticipated Studio Ghibli movie marathon. And here she was, four hours later doing anything but that. Watching you change into a bunch of different outfits for your first date with Wonwoo that was still two days away.

She sighs and leans back, crossing her arms; annoyed. “The same as all the other times you asked me. Good, sexy, drop-dead gorgeous, and all the synonyms that are in the thesaurus for the world beautiful. Now can we get to the marathon?”

You groan, running your fingers through your hair and turn to look at yourself in the full-length mirror you brought out from the guest bedroom. The flowy black casual mini dress was simple with a ruched top bodice, and a plunging neckline. It was beautiful, you had bought it on a whim a little more than a year ago, without any plans on wearing it. Promising yourself that one day you will.

Now that the day had arrived, you weren’t so sure. Slightly regretting buying it in the first place. “Are you sure, it’s not too simple or casual right?”

“Where is he taking you?” Maya says standing up and walking to your kitchen. She rummages through the plastic bags she brought earlier. Delightfully hums when she finds the sour gummy worms, a full pack of just the pink and blue ones. Her favorite.

You let out an exasperated sigh, “That’s the thing he hasn’t told me.” You grumble, walking over and taking the bag from her, grabbing four gummy worms. “He says it’s a surprise, like how am I supposed to know what to wear if he doesn’t tell me where we are going. I don’t know if it’s casual or fancy or business casual or just plain out a nude event.” You rant, stuffing all four gummy worms into your mouth at once. Cringing when the sourness overpowers your tastebuds.

“I hate surprises!”

Maya laughs, taking the bag of sour worms from your hand and pops one into her mouth. Satisfied. “If it’s a nude event I don’t think what you end up wearing matters. You won’t be wearing it for long anyway.” She jokes, making you groan in annoyance.

You loved your friends, dearly. But sometimes they were the least helpful people you had the pleasure in knowing. Before Maya had arrived today you were in a three-way facetime call with Minghao, and Jeonghan. None of them offering any helpful advice.

“You're thinking about this too much,” Maya says, putting her arms around your waist hugging you tightly. “You and Wonwoo have known each other for years. He’s seen you through every phase of your life, good or bad. No matter what you wear, even if you show up in a cardboard box he will still look at you like you brought down the moon.” She whispers resting her head on your shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

You sigh, hugging her back. “I know but this is different.” You pout, “He went on that Archaeology trip right after graduation. So, I haven’t seen him in person for over a month. What if his perception of me has become a little funny cause he’s only seen dirt, bones, fossils, artifacts, and me through a phone screen.” You exclaim dramatically.

Maya lifts her head and gives you an incredulous look. “Please, say that sentence again and realize how stupid you just sounded.” She unravels her arms from her waist and hurls herself up onto your kitchen counter. “You’re being paranoid again. I promise you everything is going to be fine.” She grabs the bag of gummy worms and fishes out one before offering it to you.  

Pouting, you bite only the blue side, making her shake her head, putting the remaining side - the red side - into her mouth, chewing slowly. “I like the red one, the one you tried on earlier with the strappy back. It’s not too fancy but also not too casual.” She states, rather proudly. “And I know he won’t be able to keep his hand off you the second he sees you.” She winks, making you roll your eyes.

“Just cause you and Soonyoung are always at it like rabbits, doesn’t mean everyone is.” You scoff, walking out of the kitchen. You weren’t going to lie. The thought of having sex with Wonwoo again, instead of face time sex - which didn’t feel nearly as good as the real stuff - was exciting. But you didn’t want that to be the whole focus of the night.

You missed him so much. His eyes, which shined brighter than the stars in the night sky. His nose, which ran courses along your neck whenever the two of you cuddled and would scrunch up cutely when you kissed it or when he was heavily concentrated on something. His lips; that felt like two crushed velvet pillows when connected with your own. His voice; that danced over forensic anthropology terms he only knew the definition of. His laugh, which sounded like your favorite song; giving off the same excitement as hearing it on the radio for the first time.

You missed his arms, his jokes, his pouts, his presence so much that for the first week he was away. Every night whenever the two of you got on Facetime you would cry. It would make him laugh so cutely, with a bit of concern and longing lingering in between hiccups. And that only made you cry even harder. Since then he counted down the days. Sending you little reminders every morning - well morning for him he was literally on the other side of the world - of how much longer he had left on his trip.

It was hard, no matter how much easier it got as the closing days of his trip came faster than expected. Time Zones were a bitch and whenever it was morning for you, it was the night for him. Facetiming was limited because no matter what the two of you couldn’t figure out the best time to call. And whenever you did, it was the odd chance that the two of you had a day off.

Even now, when he was just two floors below you and had been back for almost a week; you still hadn’t seen each other. His body was trying to get used to abrupt time changes once again. In addition, he was adding the finishing touches to his report. Hoping to get the internship at the forensic anthropology lab downtown that he had been eyeing for years now. The only other contact - besides the random phone calls during the day, the flirty texts, or the flowers he had delivered to your doorstep every day of this week - was the document, home to his thirty-page lab report that he shared with you. In which, you would run to open whenever he begged you to edit the newly added part of the day.

So yeah, sex would be amazing. Lord knows the two of you would need it after the post-graduation stress and being away from each other for so long. But in truth, you just wanted to be with him more than anything in the world.

“We don’t have sex that much,” Maya yells after you.

“Every time I call you, the two of you are always in the middle of it so what am I supposed to think?” You yell back, grabbing the red dress Maya had raved about and placing it on top of your bed, spreading it out carefully.

“You just have a talent for calling at the wrong time.” She says, her voice getting closer and before you know it she was hopping over the mountain of clothes that occupied the better half of your bedroom floor. “Soonyoung thinks it’s funny, he always bets before we start when you’re about to call.”

You scrunch up your face. “I did not need to know that part of your sex life.”

“Says the one who masterbated on camera three times.” She jokes, picking up a ball of rolled-up socks and throwing it in your direction, missing you completely. “I’m still mad at Soonyoung.” she crosses her arms in front of her, looking around your room, avoiding your eyes completely.

You felt for her. It wasn’t every day that you find out that your kind of boyfriend - her words exactly - has seen your best friend naked on camera. Soonyoung confessed to her rather than keeping it a secret two days after they started seeing one another. The shock of seeing you at the diner that night and recognizing you had sent him over the edge, the guilt eating him alive. So he confessed to Maya and also apologized to you, even though he had nothing to be sorry for. His kind heart had taken over and he did so anyway.  

It took Maya at least three days to wrap her head around it, a part of her wanted to condemn you and Wonwoo for what you did. But the other half of her knew that it had to have been for a good reason. It was the awkwardest conversation you and Maya had ever had. Wonwoo only contributed mildly because his connection was shitty and made it impossible to hear, but the three of you managed to work through it. Though, sometimes you could see the lingering fracture of an almost heartbreak. The slight comparison that comes when you realize that your kind of boyfriend has seen other people naked.

You wished you could take everything back.

“You know he likes you right? And I mean like really really really likes you, Maya.” You kneel in front of her and grab her hands. “I’ve never seen someone look at someone else like he looks at you.” You whisper, making her lookup. “And for what it’s worth if I could take it back I would.”

“You don’t have to, I know you would never do something to intentionally hurt me. It’s just that I almost wish I didn’t know.” She sighs, bringing your locked hands up and resting her chin on top of them. “But I’m glad I do know, cause I know I can trust him.”

You nod and hug her tightly, “I love you a lot.” You mumble, squeezing her tight. She groans, trying her hardest to push you away as she replies with breathy, I love you too. It causes a laugh to erupt out of your lungs and quickly you pull away, watching as she dramatically gasps for air with her hand over her heart.

“Want to start our movie marathon now?” You stand up, extending your arms for her to take.

“Duh! It’s the only thing I’ve looked forward to all day today.”

Beginning of Month 2 - First Date

The clock hanging by the entrance of your apartment doesn’t work, but that doesn’t stop you from taking a peek at it every few seconds while you anxiously pace around in circles in your living room.

It’s D-Day. The day of your first official first date Wonwoo. The pre-date jitters have been relentless since you woke up at four in the morning. Yes, you couldn’t sleep. Nor could you eat, and messing up your eyeliner three times while getting ready earlier was the last straw. The nervous tears didn’t stop for an hour, your face puffing up more than it already was.

Nothing was going right.

At least that’s what you had thought three hours ago before the mini pep talk you gave yourself in front of your mirror after your third bath of the day. Your water bill wasn’t a top priority.

After that comforting alone time, everything that followed went smoothly with no bumps in the road. You even managed to sneak in a full hour nap before doing your make-up. Face still puffy but it wasn’t anything ice-cold water couldn’t fix. Everything was fine. Until the waiting portion of the night came.

He wasn’t late, nor was he early. Knowing him he would be knocking at your door in the next five minutes. Making him a whole two minutes early, but that didn’t stop your nerves from eating away at you.

It was complete torture.

You sighed, taking another lap around your couch, chewing on your bottom lip, thanking the makeup gods for creating lip stains. The last thing you wanted was to open your door with red lipstick all over your teeth. Wonwoo would never let you live it down.

Almost as if on cue, the light knock on your door sounded, making you jump. Quickly you made your way across the living room, slowing down your steps the closer you got to your front door. You took one last look in the mirror you kept next to your door for situations like this one. Once you were sure everything was in place, including your hair, make-up, lipstick, and pushed up your boobs you opened the door to reveal a very nervous-looking Wonwoo holding a bouquet of lilacs.

First Love.

“Hey,” He says, taking a step forward and extending his hand even further, “I didn’t know which flowers to get so I got the ones that are your favorite color.” He finishes, voice shaking, only slightly at the end of his sentence.

In awe. You have to fight yourself from bursting into tears as you take them from his hand. “I love them, they're beautiful.” You whisper, stepping aside to let them in. “I’ll put these in water and then I’ll put on my shoes and we can go.” You walk into the kitchen, grabbing the first vase you spot in your overhead cupboard.

Wonwoo watches you, awkwardly standing in the spot separating the kitchen and the living room. He’s been in your apartment so many times, yet for some reason he feels completely awkward. Like he’s out of place. Though, he blames the pre-date jitters that kept him up all night for that. For God’s sake, he’s literally crashed on your couch before, used your shower with you - platonically at first - and his entire precious gaming setup is still sitting pretty in your guest bedroom. Untouched.

He belongs here. And his overthinking brain isn’t going to convince him otherwise.

“I’m ready.” You announce, clutching your purse to the front of your body, your feet in high tops, somehow coinciding with the casual white flowy dress. Last-minute you had panicked and changed out of the dress Maya had chosen because you felt too overdressed. You made the right call because Wonwoo was wearing, converse that coincidentally matched your own, light-washed jeans, with a black t-shirt neatly tucked in, his biceps bulging out of its sleeves. Leaving you to wonder if it was due to all the digging he had to do for an entire month or his frequent visits to the gym with the guys. Likely, a mixture of both.

“You look beautiful.” He smiles, closing the distance between the two of you and hugs you tightly. Squeezing the air out of you, making you gasp. “I missed you so much, baby.” He whispers, placing a gentle kiss against the crown of your head.

You melt in his touch and hug him back,  “I missed you too.” You whisper, burying your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his heavenly smell. Adding another thing to the list of things you missed about Wonwoo while he was away. A list you will keep to secrecy in fear of inflating his ego or worse putting a hold on his dreams to stop your list from growing.

“We should go. I made reservations.” He pulls away after a long two minutes. You pout at the way he selfishly takes his warmth with him. Then you register what he just said and your eyes grow wide with panic, making him chuckle. He brings his hand up, brushing his thumb underneath your eyelid, picking up a fallen eyelash. “Relax, it’s nothing fancy and you look great.” He extends his thumb, and like second nature you place it above his. Wordlessly the two of you close your eyes, make a wish before opening them again. The two of you smile.

Old habits die hard or grow into something more.

You can’t help but feel like you’ve ruined everything as Wonwoo is driving you back home. You weren’t even halfway to the place when you felt it. The family jabs in your ovaries and the gush of liquid between your legs.

You blame wearing the white dress instead of the red one.

Though now you understood why you had been overly emotional the past day and why you had woken up with three tiny zits adorning your chin. It was not due to stress.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper for the thirtieth time since Wonwoo made the u-turn after you embarrassingly admitted to him that your period had just decided to make its grand entrance.

The ground wasn’t opening up to swallow you whole.

Wonwoo looks at you briefly and smiles. “It’s okay, we can move our date location to your apartment or mine.” He says, placing a comforting hand over your lap. “Do you have everything you need back home?” He turns into the tiny parking lot of a convenience store and brings his car to a stop.

You hum, scrunching up your chin, thinking. “Pads, I have enough tampons but I can’t sleep with them, oh, and popcorn, and if they have those Nutella sticks, those too.” You nod. Your attention everywhere but his eyes. It’s already embarrassing, that you’ve stained your dress, but also his car seat!

Honestly, you weren’t going to let yourself live this down. On your deathbed, instead of remembering all the good things in your life, you’ll be remembering this instead. The day you ruined your first date with Wonwoo because you forgot to check your period app, even though deep down you knew it was early. Two days to be exact.

“Alright, anything else?” He unbuckles his seatbelt, watching you closely. He’s never once seen you blush, but with the way your ears are fired up even in the dim light of his car. He knows that you’re embarrassed and beating yourself up inside. It makes his chest contract in pain. 

“Baby,” He whispers, his hand coming underneath your chin so you can look at him. “It’s okay, I promise.” He says as reassuringly as possible before gently pecking your lips. “Do you need anything else?”

You nod, your face morphing into slight pain as you feel the strong pull in your ovaries. “Some painkillers would be nice too.”

Wonwoo smiles, pecking your lips again. “I’ll be right back, try to do those breathing exercises people do when they’re in labor.” He opens the door and gets out.

“I’m on my period not having a baby.” You exclaim as he laughs.

He leans down, his face appearing again, “I feel like I read somewhere that it’s kind of the same thing.” He shrugs, blowing you a kiss. “I’ll be back, I love you.” He says, and shuts the door softly, but forceful enough for it to click shut.

Truly, you blame wearing the white dress instead of the red for this.

“Do you want to move again?” Wonwoo whispers as you let out another painful sigh. The two painkillers you had taken on the way home, did nothing to subside your cramps. Neither did the hot pack Wonwoo placed on your lower stomach an hour ago or the lower back massage he was giving you now as the two of you cuddled.

After your pit stop. Wonwoo sped through the streets trying to get you home as fast as possible. Slightly terrified that he’d get a ticket for speeding...again. Thankfully, when your apartment building came into view, Wonwoo laughed at the sigh of relief you let out. Which was only masked with horror when you realized you’d have to step out of the car, in order to get to your apartment.

Wonwoo saw your distress and handed you the spare hoodie he kept in his back seat. You literally burst into tears when he insisted on tying it around your waist. His hand was pressed on your lower back as he slowly led you into the building and towards the elevator. Completely ignoring front desk Kyle and Apartment 203 Kyle who were quarreling about a new release.

If things were different, you and Wonwoo would’ve bet a month’s worth of laundry on which of the two Kyle’s would give up first by now. But you were in pain and mortified and your bed was calling your name.

“No it’s okay, I’m comfortable like this.” You mumble, laying your head on his chest. His fingers dig into your lower back delicately with precision as if he were playing the piano. Creating a tiny symphony against your skin.

He hums, sits up a little, and kisses your temple. “Try and get some sleep, I’ll stay over so if you wake up in the middle night just wake me okay?” He says while laying down. He takes a hold of your thigh and drapes it over his hip. The shifting movement makes you sigh, but this time in relief.

“I’m sorry I ruined our date?” You pout, closing your eyes. The cramps were finally dying down and you felt the evident wave of relaxation finally crash over your body, breaking.

Wonwoo chuckles, moving your hair out of your face. He had even helped you in removing your makeup. It only made your heart grow for him even more. “You didn’t ruin anything, this is the best first date I’ve ever had.” He says, voice full of sincerity and it makes the tears well up in your eyes.

You didn’t know where he was planning on taking you in the first place, but you didn’t care to find out. You didn’t need an extravagant date. An expensive dinner date at a five-star restaurant or a romantic picnic underneath the moonlight. All you needed was this. To know that the person you had given your heart to cared. He had already gone above and beyond, taking care of you and not condemning you for something that you literally had no control of.

Wonwoo made you feel loved and more. And that was all you could ever ask for.

This too had been the best first date or date in general that you had ever been on.

Month 3 - Heaven’s Cloud Grand Opening

“Babe we need to go,” Wonwoo, irritated, yells as he walks through the hallway leading up to your room. His hands stuffed into the pocket of his navy blue slacks. He told you to be ready by six and it’s almost six and you’re still not ready.

Wonwoo strived to be on time. Always.

“I know, I’m almost done. I promise.” You answer, checking your lipstick in your dresser mirror. Wonwoo enters the room, stops dead in his tracks when he finally sees what you’re wearing. A black long sleeve mini dress, with an open back. He all but loses it.

“Do I look okay?” You turn to face him, red lips slightly parted as you open your arms wide, giving him an awkward twirl. You acknowledge that your outfit won’t be complete until you put on your shoes, but you were prolonging the use of heels as long as you could. Even if the ones you had chosen were your most comfortable pair. “Woo, I should change right?” You sigh, wiggling your toes through your fuzzy carpet.

Wonwoo doesn’t answer, instead stands there with his mouth dry, pupils dilated, sweat pooling inside the palm of his hands. Truthfully, he hasn’t heard a thing you’ve said since he walked in. His punctuality leaves out the window while he fights against that little voice in the back of his head that’s telling him to forget about Joshua’s grand opening and stay with you tonight, underneath your sheets.

Damn, he’s royally fucked.

“Umm, Wonwoo are you alright?” You wave your hand in front of his face, the sleeves of your dress pulled down revealing your sticky bra. And even that has the blood rushing down to his cock. Picturing the way your nipples stretch out while he slowly peels it away from your body.

God, he needs to get a hold of himself.

“Yeah, just…” He pauses, swallowing thickly, his hands itching to reach out and grab you. “We’re almost late, we should get going.” He says, coughing at the end of his sentence, turning around, and walking out of your room.

You scoff in disbelief at his aloofness. Fine, you conclude, pulling up the sleeves of your dress, and crossing  your arms in front of you. You turn to your mirror, running your tongue over your teeth, before clicking it.

You didn’t need to know Wonwoo’s approval to know you looked hot as fuck.

“This is Jungkook, he’s the one that painted the mural.”

Joshua patted the younger man on the back before pointing to the painted wall behind him. It’s a beautiful, intricate rococo-style mural, with of course a modern twist. It made you stop dead in your tracks when you walked in. Your jaw falling wide, almost reaching the ground. You were so distracted, overwhelmed by such beauty that you didn’t feel Wonwoo bump into you from behind. Probably hyper-focused on his phone rather than where he was going.

His fault for not complimenting you in the first place. In your head, you had convinced yourself that this was his karma.

“It’s absolutely beautiful, oh my god, I swear the air left my lungs when I first saw it.” You complimented, shaking his extended hand. Wonwoo was next to you, hand on your lower back, drawing small circles to remind you that he was still there. But just like he ignored you. You ignored him.

“Wow, thanks, that means a lot to me. Truthfully if it wasn’t for the fact that we were in a bit of a time crunch I would’ve painted over it like five times.” He says, sheepishly, retreating his hand and scratching the back of his neck.

Joshua rolls his eyes, patting Jungkook’s back once again, “And I fired him every time he threatened to repaint it.” He jokes, taking a sip of champagne from his flute, ears perking up when he hears his name being called for the thousandth time. Nodding, a gentle goodbye before walking towards Jeonghan who was balancing two trays of champagne flutes in both of his hands, clearly struggling.

It was early in the night, but you could tell that the grand opening of his restaurant - Heaven’s Cloud, co-owned by the three boyfriends - was off to a great start. You were so proud of them for finally going through something they had in the works for years. They even gave you the exclusive PowerPoint presentation one night, explaining their vision. Seeing it finally come to life brought tears to your eyes. Tears that you quickly pushed away because you didn’t want Wonwoo to see you cry. You were still a bit upset with him.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I’ve never seen such a beautiful painting from a local artist before.” You pause, laughing lightly, shaking your head. “I take it back Minghao’s paintings are beautiful too, I officially have two hung up in my apartment. Maybe I can convince you to paint one for me too.”

Jungkook smiles widely, nodding his head. “I would love that. You’d officially be the second commission I ever do.” He states proudly, holding two fingers in front of him. You take a step forward, Wonwoo’s hand falling away from your back down to his side. You can’t see him, but you can feel his burning gaze on you. A bit annoyed that you’re paying more attention to the young artist and not him. Your lovely, sweet boyfriend, who gets so stunned by your beauty that he forgets how to function.

“It’s an honor, can I get your number?” You tilt your head, extending your phone out to him, unlocked. A sweet picture of you and Wonwoo from last month, sharing a kiss underneath the cherry blossoms, adorning your phone screen. If only he was still the same man who told you he loved you every time his eyes caught a falling flower petal.

Sigh.

Jungkook blushes, taking your phone from your hands and he quickly types in his number before handing it back to you. “I texted myself, sorry.” He says, and not even a minute later his phone chimes, a wide smile appearing across his face.

“Can you tell me more about the painting?” You go to stand next to him, placing your hand on top of his shoulder. Smirking when you hear the low groan escape Wonwoo’s lips.

You weren’t trying to make him jealous. In fact, your flirting mode had been inactivated throughout the entire interaction between you and Jungkook. You were genuinely curious about the painting. It had evoked such a strong emotion from you that you wanted to know more about it.

And maybe you were being a bit petty towards Wonwoo, but could anyone blame you? You looked hot as fuck and he had completely disregarded that.

“Um, yeah, I’d love to.” Jungkook rushes out, awkwardly shifting his gaze between you and Wonwoo. He could feel the tension between the two of you. Knew the two of you were together, that much he had gathered by not just your phone’s wallpaper, but also the way the two of you danced around one another effortlessly, even if you were in some kind of fight.

He felt like painting it.

“Awesome, can we take a closer look.” You nod your head towards the mural, crossing your arms in front of you. Feeling a bit self-conscious as Wonwoo’s gaze burned brightly through the skin of your back. It took everything in you to not take the few steps back that you had taken forward and hug him tight. Kiss his cheek and tell him that you loved him more than love itself.

The petty side of your brain thought otherwise. You weren’t going to flirt with Jungkook, he was cute. Had the appeal of a bad boy with a sweet side due to the intricate tattoo designs he had covering his arms. But you weren’t interested in him one bit. Your heart belongs entirely to the man, fuming with jealousy behind you.

So you were just going to make it look like you were flirting. The distance would give off the illusion.

“Sure, after you beautiful.”

Wonwoo continued to ignore you the entire night. Only, lingering around you following you like a shadow wherever you and Jungkook went. Listening to you and the young artist talk animatedly about art and museums and things he had no knowledge about. Things he never once knew you were interested in.

The Baroque Period was one of your favorite eras when it came to art, with the Art Nouveau period coming in on a close second. He learned about your fascination with Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne marble sculpture. Listened to you talk passionately about how one man was able to not only get the details of the human body right. But the anguish on Daphne’s face made you feel for her. And how amazed you were that he managed to make the leaves on her fingers thin and sheer enough to allow light to go through.

Each time you opened your mouth Wonwoo looked at you so lovingly. He was attentive without meaning to be and made mental notes on all the pieces that you mentioned. Promising himself that he would look them up as soon as he could and read all about them. They had to be out of this world to get your eyes to sparkle like they were stars in the night sky.

The downside of it all is that each time you opened your mouth, he saw Jungkook’s fall from grace. His utter demise. A part of him felt for the young artist. Wonwoo knew what it was like to love someone that would never be yours. The other part of him, the more vindictive side, stood by you proudly, sending warning glares to the tattooed boy whenever his gaze lingered on yours for a little longer than it was supposed to.

Wonwoo’s pride didn’t falter for a second. On the car ride home, after many cocktail finger foods, group pictures, and teary-eyed speeches. Wonwoo didn’t break. His jaw clenched, gripping the steering wheel.

The air was tense. It was overwhelming but it didn’t feel like something you couldn’t handle. Even now as he walked in and out of your bedroom, slowly getting ready for bed. The unspoken agreement that he would be staying the night, dancing between the two of you while you waited for him underneath your covers in your pink heart-patterned pajamas.

Daring one another to see which one would break first.

In the end, it was you. Missing the sound of his voice a little too much than normal. “I’m mad at you.” You voice, making him stop to look at you as he walked back into your room, wearing the other matching set to your pajamas. He places his folded clothes on top of your dresser, lifting his brow up clearly confused. As far as he knew, the only one that should be mad for the way you had acted tonight was him. And he wasn’t, just sad, but not upset.

“You didn’t tell me I looked beautiful tonight. Not when I asked you before leaving, or any time during the night.” You confess, sitting up, running your finger along the tiny flowers painted onto your duvet.

Wonwoo stutters, forgetting all the feelings he had coursing through him, running to your side of the bed, stubbing his toe with the foot of your bed in the process. You jump, reaching your arms to him as he falls back onto your mattress, moaning in pain, holding onto his foot. He brushes you off, the throbbing pain could wait, right now he needs to make his idiot actions right. So, he sits up, cringing, and grabs both of your hands, bringing them up to his lips and kissing each of your knuckles gently.

“My love, you looked radiant today. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when you asked but I was at a loss for words, honestly, my brain turned into mush when I saw you.” He scoots himself closer, both of his legs on either side of your body trapping you in. “You have no idea how much I wanted to skip the grand opening and just stay here, with you, underneath your covers for the rest of the night.” He nods, circling both of his arms around your waist, bringing you closer. “And every time I saw you laughing with that guy-

“Jungkook.”

“That guy,” He reiterates, making you roll your eyes. “I wanted to take you to the nearest bathroom and Christian the hell out of it.” He says, his hands dancing around your back.

You pout, burying your face into his chest. “I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner, I know you didn’t like watching me and Jungkook all night.” Sighing, you wrap your arms around his waist hugging him tightly.

Wonwoo smiles, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay, I liked watching you talk. It also made me realize how you felt whenever I talked about bones and stuff. Cause I didn’t understand shit but I didn’t care. I was seeing a different side of you and I loved it.” He pauses, “Even though I wish it was directed towards me.”

You gasp inaudibly and lift your head up. “All you have to do is ask Woo, I have two semesters of art history downloaded in here-” You point to your head, “Permanently.”

He laughs airly, but it’s cut short by the need to give you another kiss. So he does, short, sweet but with purpose. “Every time I learn something new about you I fall more in love.” He whispers, head tilted, eyes filled with so much adoration that you want to cry. “Last week was your weird obsession with the Twilight series.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “It’s not weird or an obsession, it literally shaped my entire childhood and adolescence.” You state matter of factly.

“I mean I have to agree, that last one was crazy. I definitely didn’t expect that plot twist.”

“I told you it was life-changing.” You poke his cheek.

“I don’t know about life-changing, but definitely mind-fucking.”

“Whatever.” You grumble, lowering your head and hiding your smile from him. The satisfaction you felt when you managed to sit him down for a Twilight marathon was award-winning. Even more so how into it he got during the biggest plot twist of your entire life. His whines of protest, claiming he was going to sue Stephanie Meyer or whoever directed the movie for emotional distress.

“I’m still sorry Wonwoo.”

“It’s okay I am sorry too.” He smiles, laying you down on your back and hovering above you. “Now I may not be an artist like Jinhyung-”

“Jungkook.” You correct, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Yeah who cares.” He leans down, stopping just above your lips, “I may not be an artist like him but I can paint the most beautiful mosaic on your body tonight.”

You smile, giggling, “How long did it take you to come with that one?”

“The entire car ride home.” He stops, sticking his tongue out, licking his lips before leaning in closer. His lips brushing against yours, “Did it work?”

“Most definitely.”

Month 4: Internship and Blues

Congratulations!

Wonwoo couldn’t believe his eyes as he read over the congratulatory email for the thousandth time. Suddenly all those late nights he spent researching, writing, erasing sentences he could not make sense of, didn’t seem too bad because everything had aligned so perfectly he was going to scream out of joy.

Quickly, he exited the mail app and went straight to your contact name. He couldn’t wait to tell you. Couldn’t wait to hear that tiny squeal that always escaped your mouth whenever your body couldn’t handle so much excitement. His smile was so wide until he pressed his phone to his ear and heard the first ring.

Should he tell you? Would you be happy for him? Or will your happiness be masked with a little tang of disappointment?

You were struggling to find a job again.

Last week you had left your job at the tutoring center and Minghao’s bookstore wasn’t paying enough. Joshua had offered you a waitressing job at Heaven’s Cloud. But after one day, wrong orders, broken plates, and a furious Seungcheol. Everyone came to the agreement that waitressing was not a profession for you.

Even though you had managed to pick up a few freelance writing projects, they weren’t enough to feed your soul. He witnessed how defeated you looked whenever you sent out your resume and writing samples to publishing companies. Even the small ones and start-up ones. Each one came back with a letter of rejection. It hurt him to see you so depleted. So hurt. That he didn’t even feel like celebrating anymore. More so because the internship Wonwoo had been feigning for was all the way in the heart of the city. Which meant he had to move.

With a sigh, he brought his phone down and hung up before you got the chance to answer. He would tell you, but he needed some time to process the turmoil of emotions he had coursing through him. Thankfully, upon request by Minghao the two of you had started meditating. Nothing too serious, just ten minutes a day whenever he could. And surely he needed to feel that calm state of mind now in order to break the news.

Though he knew you wouldn’t be anything less but proud for him. He still didn’t want to bring you down more than what you already were. It was a very thin line that he was walking on. One that asked him to be in a calm state before crossing it.

So, he opened the videos Minghao sent him and sat in his car, palms facing the sky. The smooth voice and gentle frequencies, enveloping his body, relaxing him. He knew by the time he opened his eyes again he would be ready to tell you.

The blank word document was almost haunting. It was possibly one of the worst feelings you could ever encounter in your life. You had gotten word from one of your freelance writing positions that an editor spot had opened up in one of the publishing firms you had been eyeing for months now. Always too intimidated to actually send in your resume and writing samples. Though now the clock was ticking fast, counting down the seconds. You only truly had enough funds to pay for two more months worth of rent. That is if you skipped out on basic human needs, like food, laundry, and electricity.

Without paying for those you’d have two months’ worth of rent left if you stayed paying for those things you had probably half a months’ worth of rent. So, after pacing tirelessly around your living room and making your award-winning pros and cons lists. You caved and decided to reach out to Universe Factory Publishing & Co, with your heart on your sleeve knowing you had nothing left to lose.

The only problem came after reading all your old writing samples. Understanding why you had been rejected from all the other places you had applied to, because in nicer words than you had originally thought; they all sucked. But your blank document staring back at you sucked even more. No matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to come out of your brain. Your mind had gone blank and it was frustrating.

“Hey, I’m here!” Wonwoo exclaims while toeing off his shoes at the front door. You had been swimming so deep in your head that you didn’t hear the familiar beep of your front door. The familiar sound made your ears perk up and in an instant to the point that you were standing in front of your door waiting to greet him.

Not this time. Even before he walked in he could sense your distress as he typed in the code to your front door. A slight frown across his face when he found you slumped over your coffee table, head resting on top of your laptop keyboard looking at the door. A faraway glimmer hiding deep behind your eyes.

“Uh, oh, I know this look. What’s wrong?” He smiles, making his way to you and sitting down next to you, placing the colorful bouquet of roses he had picked up on his way home on top of your coffee table. “Can’t write?” He says, snaking his arm over your shoulder, reeling you in.

You nod, “My brain has stopped working.” You whisper, scrunching your face in distaste before sitting up. Your sights catch the bouquet, laying in front of you unattended. A total of nine roses. Your heart swells up with ease.

Eternal Love

You weren’t sure if Wonwoo knew that you knew that he did this intentionally. He had taken a Plant Taxonomy course one year during his undergraduate. And of course, you had written most of his papers, so you knew, that every time he gave you flowers it was like he was reassuring you and his love for you. Nine roses meant eternal love, the red ones obviously meant love, the pink ones, gratitude, the yellow ones, friendship, and the white ones, purity. An entire love story in the form of a bouquet.

Your love story in the form of a bouquet.

Ignorance is bliss, though, so you acted like you didn’t know. Keeping his secret a little longer until he decided to share it with you.

“They’re beautiful. Can I go put them in water now.” You beam, reaching past him, grabbing the bouquet and clutching it to your chest. Wonwoo chuckles, your switches his mood, though a little annoying sometimes he could never live without.

“Is your brain still broken?” He raises a brow, digging his thumb into the back of your neck, making you moan in relief.

“Yes, but only when it comes to writing. As soon as I sit down my brain just goes blank.” You pout, head lolling to the side as you feel the tension disappear underneath his thumb. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, I didn’t even hear my phone ring when you called earlier.” You stop, remembering you mentally told yourself to call back but never did. Curiosity sparks within you and you turn to face him completely. “Why did you call?”

“It’s not important, we gotta fix that broken brain of yours.” He jokes, poking your forehead.

You huff, placing the flowers down next to your laptop and crossing your arms in front of you, “You’re going to have a hard time fixing it because now I want to know why you called. It’s weird for you to call at two in the afternoon. You’re usually with Maya talking about bones.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, putting both his arms around you. “We don’t just talk about bones.” He kisses the tip of your nose cheekily, “And she ditched me for Soonyoung, so I just did half of the lab Professor Kim assigned his students.”

You gasp, hand over mouth. “She’s going to be pissed.”

“We took this TA summer job together. She can’t just ditch me because she wants to have sex.” He states, annoyed. You smile while he scrunches his face up, pushing his glasses up. A habit of his so endearing that you will never get tired of.

“Don’t blame them, they're in love.” You swat your hand over his chest.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, “So are we but I still follow through with my commitments.”

“Seems like the two of you need couple’s counseling.” You laugh.

“Ha Ha.” He exclaims sarcastically, “Keep talking like that, and I won’t help you fix your brain.” He flicks your forehead gently, making you wince dramatically. “Pipe down my little drama queen, that’s part of your treatment.”

“I don’t like it.” You pout, rubbing your forehead. “Tell me why you called first,” You pause, bringing both of your hands, clasping them in front of you. “Please, please please please please please ple-”

Wonwoo kisses you, short and fast, cutting you off. He pulls away, smiling widely. A flash of genuine excitement runs past his eyes, exciting you in the process. Sometimes it was scary how the two of you could share emotions. You figured it had to do with the whole in-love thing.  

“I got the internship, Genius Labs emailed me today. I officially start next month after I send in my paperwork.” He rushes out, whispering the last part as he eyes you tentatively. Still unsure of what your reaction would be.

Though he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when that familiar squeal flies out of your mouth and your lips are on him. The kiss is not forceful, but it isn’t the smoothest one you’ve ever given him. Your teeth are clanking against his lips as a joyful giggle escapes you.

Wonwoo sighs out in relief.

Even though he knew this would be your reaction. He feels better witnessing it firsthand.

“Babe, that’s amazing!” You visibly shake, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you.” You laugh and the sound of it makes him swell up with bliss. “See, I told you could do it, bro.”

Wonwoo pushes you away. “Stop calling me bro, it’s weird we kiss, and hug and-” He looks around before leaning in, breathe fanning your ear, “And we fuck.”

“I’m saying it endearingly, it’s the same way as you calling me baby or sexy.”

“I’m not going to get into how wrong you are, but whatever.” He shrugs, looking away. The worry he worked so hard to push away, comes back and quickly he redirects his attention to your balcony window.

You furrow your brows, placing your hand underneath his chin, guiding him to face you. “What’s wrong, we should be celebrating. Why do you look so sad?” You give him a kiss on his cheek, resting your forehead against his.

“It’s downtown, three hours away. I’m going to have to move.” He says sadly, fidgeting with the ends of your hair resting on your back. “To a new place, a new city, and away from all of our friends.” He pauses, “Away from you.”

“Woo,” You sigh, rubbing your thumb over his cheek, “It’s okay, you’ve been working for this for months now. Yeah, we’ll be three hours away but that’s three hours and not a plane ride away. We can make it work.” You nod, pulling him in for a hug, guiding his head to rest awkwardly against your chest.

“And if I get the editor position at Universe Factory Publishing & Co, then we can move in together.” You offer, your chest blooming with hope. God, you really needed this job. Not because you’d be three hours away from Wonwoo, but it was the position you really wanted. At a company, you admired.

It was your dream job. And though, sometimes dream jobs were altered. It didn’t stop you from really wanting it.

“Wait,” He picks up your head. “You’re doing it, you’re finally doing it?” He says excitedly, tightening his hold on you. For months, every time a rejection email or letter came in the mail. He would be there telling you to stop wasting your time and talent on companies that couldn’t see your worth. And for some reason, he had an inkling that your dream company would, so after a small crying session with your face in his arms. He’d repeat to you, the same thought you had and that was to apply.

He was beyond happy that you finally decided to do so. He knew you’d cave one day, and he was happy that it was today.

Two celebrations in one.

“I am, I have nothing else to lose, so I thought why not?” You shrug, “I’ve faced enough rejection letters that if I get rejected from this place it won’t hurt as much.” You say sadly, leaning forward, letting your head fall on top of his chest. Needing his comfort again, now more than ever.

“You won’t, they’ll take you in without hesitation.” He says reassuringly, smoothing his hands down your back.

“They will if my brain stays broken and I can’t write.” You groan, annoyed with yourself.

“Well, you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Relax and you’ll see that as soon as you do you’ll be a writing machine again.” He finishes, kissing the top of your head lovingly. Smiling, gently when he sees you visibly relax.

“Can you help me?” You look up at him. “I’m thinking too much but at the same time I’m not thinking at all.”

“Yes, we do have two celebrations to get started in. I’m thinking we rewatch the Twilight series, make cookies and then decorate them with the leftover icing tubes we used for Minghao’s birthday cake last month.” He offers, putting a pensive hand over his chin before snapping his fingers in front of him. “And you’re not allowed to look at your laptop or phone once.”

“Bu-”

“Ah-Ah,” He cuts you off, placing his finger in front of your lips, shushing you. “No but��s, tonight we relax, you can even put those gunky face masks on me.” He smiles, closing the distance and kissing your lips lightly, “Go get our matching pajamas, the ones with the cats on them.” He taps your hip twice, signaling for you to get up. “I’ll put the flowers in water and get the ingredients for the cookies ready.”

You huff, standing up, silently protesting, which makes Wonwoo laugh loudly. “I created a monster.” You cross your arms in front of you, “Don’t forget to take out all the pots and pans I have inside the oven before you preheat it.” You scold.

Last time he forgot, it had your place smelling like burnt metal for a day. Thankfully nothing had caught on fire, despite the fire alarm going off. But it was not an experience you wanted to re-live. The look of utter disappointment the firefighters had when they came out carrying one of your pots as proof after the entire building had been evacuated, was one you never wanted to witness ever again.

“Oh, thanks for reminding me, babe.” He clicks his tongue, standing up, holding the bouquet of roses in front of him. Cheekily smiling as he did a recount of the flowers. Nine in total.

Eternal love for you and you only.

You nod, rounding the table, and walk to the hallway leading up to the rooms. Before disappearing, Wonwoo calls out your name, making you stop to turn and face him. “Yes, love.”

“Peaches, I’m proud of you.”

Month 5: Moving in Together

“I can’t believe you’re leaving us.” Jeonghan grumbles, setting down his beer on top of your coffee table. The only surviving piece of furniture or item that has not been packed up inside a moving truck or a cardboard box.

It was bittersweet, the decision to not take it with you had been harder than you expected. Somehow you had gotten attached to the old thing that Wonwoo found for you at a garage sale almost four years ago, but you did. In your defense it held a lot of memories, etched into the aging wood. From the sweat rings that your drinks left behind before you started using coasters. To the little pen marks you had accidentally made when thinking. Each one held a significant story, to you, to the previous owners and whoever will get the table after you.

“I’m moving three hours away, you guys can come visit me or I can come visit you guys.” You roll your eyes, running the tape roll over the slit of the box you had finished packing. This one held kitchenware. You had spent too much money on them to not take them with you. “Wonwoo’s literally been doing that for the last three weeks.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like him as much as I like you.” Jeonghan shrugs, crossing his arms in front of him. “I’m going to miss you so much.” He whispers, putting his feet up on your coffee table. The last time it will ever receive such malicious treatment. In a way it made your heart drop.

Why the hell were you so attached to a coffee table? One that had been fading from years of overuse. It had a few initials of the previous owners carved into one of the legs. An innocent ‘J’ t ‘M’ equals ‘N’ with a wobbly heart encasing the sweet eternal promise.  

The night you noticed it Wonwoo was with you. Together you concluded that the J stood for James the M for Mei and the N for Naomi, obviously the product of their eternal love. It was a story the two of you made up on the spot instead of watching the Digimon reruns they had on that day. Neither of you cared much for it but it was better than anything the tv was offering.

Now the little family the two of you had created would soon be out of your life and you weren’t sure how to feel about it. For all you knew they didn’t exist, but it was Wonwoo’s house warming gift to you and you suppose that’s why you were having such a hard time parting with it.

But Wonwoo had gone ahead and bought a new coffee table when he moved at the end of last month. And truthfully you didn’t have to take much with you, except for everything you had. In all honesty, you had not wanted to visit Wonwoo once while he was away, you already knew what the apartment looked like because you had picked out with him. A gruesome week of apartment hunting you wanted to forget. Either way he had taken literally nothing with him, sold all his furniture in a garage sale. Except of course his gaming setup and was sleeping on a blow up mattress for a little over four weeks.

He claimed he didn’t need to take anything with him if you were going to end up joining him anyway, so you could take your stuff to him. He liked it much better than his anyway. Which then you would remind him that you were still in the interview process with Universe Factory Publishing & Co and that you weren’t sure if they would even accept you in the end. Only to have him shut you down, telling you that you had the position in the bag.

And you did. They had sent you your congratulatory email last week, during your nightly facetime call with Wonwoo. Both of you ended up crying with pure joy and immediately you were making plans to finally move out to your new home with him.

It was a day away, you still had so much to pack. The movers had already taken your big pieces of furniture and a lot more boxes. The only thing you had left was your suitcase of clothes that didn’t make it onto the truck and four boxes of miscellaneous items. One of those being your kitchenware. Forgetting them or giving them away was not an option.

You cut the last of the tape, securing the enclosure and place down the  roll on top of the box before  making your way to Jeonghan. All of your friends had come over to help you pack. Each of them bursting into tears, as they left to continue about their day. Except for Maya who had done a week's worth of crying to you alone. Even though she and Soonyoung were taking a gap year together to volunteer at animal sanctuaries around the world. She still was going to miss you more than anything in the world.

They were more dramatic than you.

“Hannie, nothing’s going to change. You guys are all still my family.” You sit down next to him on the floor. Groaning as you hope your too expensive and too uncomfortable couch was going to make it to Wonwoo safe and sound. “I think parting from you guys forever will literally be impossible, you’re Baby Bean’s Godfather.”

Jeonghan sits up, eyes wide. “Wait, you're pregnant?” He asks, confused, excited and a little scared. It makes you laugh loudly, head thrown back as the panic starts to rush through him. “This is serious, stop fucking with me are you pregnant?” And you laugh even harder, to the point your abs start to hurt.

He groans, placing both of his hands on your shoulders shaking you. “Tell me you’re joking, it’s too soon, does Wonwoo know? Does your mom know? Fuck I have to tell Shua and Cheol and they’re one hundred precent going to beat Wonwoo up.”

You place your hand over your stomach and take a few deep breaths, loud bows of laughter turning into giggles. “No I’m not pregnant, Wonwoo adopted  a cat to keep Lilac company while we’re gone to work.” You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, “Her name is Baby Bean, because she’s so little and has a bean shaped birthmark on her forehead.”

Jeonghan scoffs, pushing you away making you fall back onto your carpeted floor. “Fuck you, I literally saw my life flash before my eyes.” He stands up, taking his empty beer bottle with him. “Find someone else to drive you three hours away tomorrow.” He grumbles, walking over to the bag of trash and chucking the bottle inside. “I swear, I saw myself babysitting and let me tell you it was hell.” He points out, hands on his hips like a mother scolding their child.

“Trust me Hannie, Wonwoo and I won’t get pregnant for another three years.” You smile, pulling your knees up to your chest. “Not only do we use protection all the time but he also pulls out when he doesn’t. Also I have my implant that lasts me up to three years. So you're good, buttercup.” You wink, sending him a pair of finger guns, making him roll his eyes.

“Good, do me a favor then.” He sighs, walking over and sitting down next to you. “Get another after three years, I can’t handle a kid yet.”

“You’re so annoying, you aren’t going to be the father.”

“I don’t care, kids scare me,” He whines, “And if the kid is yours and Wonwoo’s then he’s going to be a monster.” He pouts, kicking his feet in front of him.

“Fine, I’m revoking your Godfather title, I will start sending out applications tomorrow.” You shrug.

Quickly, he sits up and places both of his hands on top of your cheeks, squishing them together. A panicked look on his face. “Now come on I didn’t say I didn’t want to be it’s Godfather, I’m just saying they’re scary.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” You blow out a raspberry making him cringe.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’ll see.” You wink, cheekily. A secret you’ve kept from him threatening to spill it. But it wasn’t yours to tell and if Joshua had confided in you then you were going to keep it until he was the one to tell his boyfriends. Yet, you couldn’t wait.

“I’m exhausted.” You pout, throwing yourself on top of your couch in your new apartment.

A full day of unloading furniture and unpacking was weighing heavily on your body and you were ready to call it a night. Wonwoo laughs, from the front door. He was saying his final goodbye and thank you’s to Jeonghan and Minghao. Who had stayed after driving you over to help.

It took a few hugs, bribing them with free food to get them to stay past five though. And it was now midnight. Their bodies, coated with equal amounts of exhaustion as your own. It didn’t help that it was nearing midnight and they still had a three hour drive left. You felt bad, even tried to convince them to stay the night, but they refused. Rejecting all your offers, with a cocky we’re leaving princess from Jeonghan and a knowing wink towards Wonwoo from Minghao.

You swear, their heads lived in the gutter.

Wonwoo laughs at something Jeonghan says before shutting the door. He shakes his head and walks back to you, hands stuffed deep in the pocket of his old ripped jeans. “First night in our first home together.” He smiles and stands in front of you, extending his arms out for you to take. “Let’s go break in our new bed.” He says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s not new, it's literally my old one.” You bite back, grabbing onto his hands, letting him pull you up. Once you’re upright he wraps his arms around your waist, pecking your lips.

“The frame isn’t new, but the mattress is. I literally unpacked it today with Minghao and it was a bitch to carry.” He groans, bringing his hand up to the back of his shoulders, rubbing at his sore muscles.

“You just want me to give you a massage so it can lead to us having sex.” You roll your eyes and poke his nose gently. He huffs in defeat, letting his arm fall down to his side. A light cherry colored blush appears on the apple of his cheeks. You smirk.

Caught, red handed.

You pull away from his arms, side step him and start making your way to your new bedroom. “Don’t stand there, I didn’t say no.” You say, bringing your shirt up to reveal your black lace bralette. “But first you need to give me a massage to earn yours.” You finish, turning around and throwing your shirt at him.

Wonwoo stutters, smiling big as he jumps. Literally jumps over the coffee table full of stuff that still hasn't found their place. “My love, I don’t care. I plan on loving you all night long, only minimal breaks allowed.” He tuts, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. His lips find the nape of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses all over it as he guides you to your room.

“I love the idea.” You move your neck to the side, to give him more room. He hums, running his tongue over your sweet spot and you have to fight the moan that forms in the back of your throat from coming out. “But I want to finish unpacking tomorrow.”

“It can wait, the world won’t end.” He mumbles against your skin, biting down gently when he reaches the skin around your collarbone. Grinning happily when the beautiful sound he had been trying to coax out of you escapes you.

“We can fuck in every room as we unpack tomorrow.” You deadpan, making him stop his movements. He disconnects his lips from your skin and stands up straight. He grabs a hold of your shoulders and turns you around to meet the smugness painted all over your face. He licks his lips, lets his hands travel down your back until they reach your ass, squeezing it tightly. Pulling you in so his growing cock was pressed up against you.

“I like your idea better. I’ll only love you for half the night and then we can pick it up again tomorrow.” He nods, walking you a few steps back before reaching the door to your bedroom. “I’m dying to fuck you against our balcony window, want everyone to see how good you are for me.” He pushes the door open, making it hit the wall. You send a scold his way, the lecture dying at the tip of your tongue when he kisses you hard.

It’s short, but it leaves you breathless when he pulls away. Similar to all the other kisses the two of you share. You begin to think that that was never going to go away no matter how old the two of you get. The spark between the two of you had been dormant that the possibility of it ever going out was nonexistent.

“Are you going to be a good girl and let me do that?” He tilts his head, swiping his tongue over his lower lips, his thumb caressing your cheek, keeping you in place. You moan.

“Yes sir, please fuck me.”

Month 6: Last Cam Show Ever

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo bites his lip, his cock straining in his slacks as he types in the familiar website he had retired from nearly seven months ago.

Pledisboys.com

“Mhm, one last show and we leave it behind.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning forward, lips above the shell of his ear. “And I think we deserve to have at least one sex tape, can we save it after we’re done?” You poke out your tongue, licking the back of his ear, humming when you feel his breath get caught in the back of his throat.

“No, but we can just make a better one later, just for us.” He nods, clicking around the website. Ignoring all the spam messages he was getting from his avid viewers, wondering where he was or begging him to return. It was expected. He did disappear without a word after the incident with you. And he did think about trying again after the two of you had resolved everything but guilt would seep in whenever he thought about going live again. Despite what you had shown on screen he knew how comfortable you had felt. So, he decided against it and logged out of the account forever.

Forever, that was his plan. Until earlier today after eating you out for the fifth time. One orgasm for each day of the week he hadn’t been able to give you one due to his busy schedule. In your post orgasm daze you had a mischievous glint behind your eyes. A look Wonwoo had quickly come to realize was the product of either one of your awesome ideas or one of your worst ideas.

At first he wasn’t sure. Every worst possible case quickly resurfaced as he pictured himself pressing the red live button again. But there is one thing Wonwoo could never say no to and that was your mouth around his dick, and well pretty much everything you did; sexual or not. So, he caved. Set the same ground rules as before, with the exception of number five.

5. Catching feeling’s = big no, everything =  platonic.

Nothing between you and Wonwoo was platonic. Possibly ever.

The two of you got ready. You in one of his old shirts. Minus your panties - you hadn’t been wearing those since you walked in through the front door earlier after running a few errands; and Wonwoo in nothing but the slacks he had worn to work earlier.

“Do you have everything you need?” He chews on his bottom lip. Nervous and scared beyond belief.

Reminding him of how he felt before his first cam show ever. Finally understanding how you had felt before yours. 

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’ rounding the side of his desk chair and sitting right in his lap, legs crossed with your arms around his neck. “I thought about getting the vibrator we use sometimes but simple is better and I just want to touch myself for you.” You smile, pecking his lips so sweetly. The action doesn’t match the lewd words you had just said. 

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road then.” He winks, leaning forward, checking to see if the camera was positioned properly, so nothing above your lips was in frame. He checked it at least five times already, but a sixth time wouldn’t hurt.

His paranoia was really getting the best of him tonight. But in his defense this wasn’t how he planned his night to play out. So, he had every right to feel paranoid, especially when he wasn’t sure what reaction the two of you were going to encounter tonight. 

With a sigh, he hums satisfied and sits back. His arm wrapped around you so tightly, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as he hovers the mouse above the red button of doom. He can feel how excited you are, literally vibrating against his lap. He has half a mind to try to convince you otherwise, to think about it a little bit more. Even though he knew that you wouldn’t have suggested it in the first place if you hadn’t thought about it thoroughly. He trusts you and your decisions, aware that this was probably something you needed to do. Something he needed to do in order to fully close that chapter that he had kept open for far too long. 

He clicks ‘go live.’

“Welcome to Woo’s game room, I hope you’re all ready to play with me and my angel one last time tonight.” He smiles, his thumb rubbing circles over your bare thigh, reassuring you. “I suppose you guys know what to do. We’ve only been gone for seven months. But just in case you all forgot the rule. I’ll repeat myself, we won’t start until we reach our donation goal.” He shifts, spreading his legs, sending you a wink in the process.

Fuck.

gyuishard: OH!! OH, OH,.,.I LITERALLY DROPPED EVERYTHING AS SOON AS I GOT THE NOTIFCIATION!@111! gyuishard donated 300 coins Gam3boivern18: I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH, MY LIFE WAS MEANINGLESS WITHOUT YOU! Gam3boivern18 donated 100 coins Dom.han: wtf I’ve been calling you, it's a 911 EMERGENCY!!!!! Cherrycheol69: ^^^ no it’s not, stop pouting and help me out with dinner. Notdino: WAIT YOU GUYS KNOW EACH OTHER’S THAT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR >:| Princejisoo: ^^^ deal with it. NOW CAN MY BOYFRIENDS PLS GET OFF SO WE CAN FINISH DINNER, MAYA AND SOOYOUNG ARE GOING TO BE HERE IN TWENTY!!!! Cherrycheol69: yes baby! Have fun guys, love you! <3 Cherrycheol69 donated 100 coins Dom.han: fine :( I love you guys be careful <3 Dom.han donated 200 coins The8: our friends are weird! wtf

“I agree,” You laugh, reading over the comments, shaking your head at their antics. Jeonghan was probably calling you to complain about how new waitress they just hired was more incompetent than you when it came to waitressing. You giggle at the thought of it, making Wonwoo’s grip your waist a bit tighter than before.

He hadn’t said anything since his first statement, chewing on his bottom lip as the donation number got closer to the goal. It was rising up fast. Faster than you had ever seen it go up. But you figured it had to do with Wonwoo’s return. The site's Golden Boy. The one who had the top stream every week for the past three years. His sudden disappearance had caused utter turmoil, disturbed the peace if you will.

He was worried.

“We can stop if you want?” You whisper, placing both palms of your hands against his cheeks. “We don’t need this to make each other feel good.” You smile, nodding your head before placing a soft kiss against his lips.

He grins, “I know, our sex life is already amazing.” He mumbles against you, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, “But I want to do this one last time to finally end it all.” He says, reassuring himself more than you.

You make a noise of acknowledgement, “Then let’s start.” You kiss him again, this time with more intention, catching him off guard at first. Not expecting you to make the first move. Not that you ever did but every time the two of you had gone live together. A whole two times, he was usually the one making the first move, not you. It excites him even further.

He moves his lips slowly but with force, and you can still taste the remnants of your five other orgasms against them, tangy and a little bit unpleasant. To Wonwoo it tasted exactly like candy, he could never get enough of you. Somedays all he needed was to be in between your legs, making you come for him to be satisfied.

He pulls away, running his tongue over your lips a few times before sitting back. Change of plans, he wants to fuck you. “Straddle my lap.” He says tapping your hip a few times. “Want you to ride me.” You give him an odd look as he starts to unbutton his slacks, regretting not taking them off earlier. But he had been so immersed in your body and your pleasure that he had forgotten how truly horny he was. Only now to be reminded of it, while millions of people were watching.

He was going to miss that feeling. The swell in his chest when people told him how hot he looked with his hand wrapped around his cock. How hard he would orgasm whenever someone praised him. He wasn’t going to miss it.

But he didn’t need that anymore, nor did he need the money. His life was finally looking up, working at his dream job, living in a beautiful apartment that overlooked the city and you to come home too. Also, recently the two of you had started exploring each other’s kinks a bit more and it was the best added bonus of being with you.

“But I thought we we-” You get cut off with a gasp as Wonwoo’s hand comes down against your thigh, slapping you hard. It sends a rush of heat down in between your legs. You can hear the chat pings come in faster, your senses double crossing you as you quickly stand up.

Wonwoo pulls down his slacks, along with his underwear, his cock standing long and hard against his abdomen. It stops just above his belly button where the silver ball of his piercing used to reside. He had taken it out two months after graduation, resulting in you mourning the loss of it in silence.

You were still mourning.

“Come on my love, you came five times today.” He extends his hand out splayed out, displaying all five of his fingers. “It’s time for my reward.” He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist and reeling you, lifting your shirt up in the process to reveal your bare ass to the camera.

“Woo I’m not th-”

You’re cut off by another slap. It lands firmly against your ass, making you gasp. His eyes are furrowed, testing you. “That’s not my name, my love.”  

“Sorry, daddy.” You swallow.

sexcaliber: holyshit did she just call him daddy. sexcaliber donated 200 coins Gam3boivern18: shit, I didn’t know I had a daddy kink until now my dick just twitched. gyuishard: same but I literally came gyuishard donated 400 coins gyuishard: take all my money I don’t care, pls say it again.

“Come on my love, everyone wants to see how good daddy fucks you.” He smirks, wrapping his hand around his cock, spreading the pre cum around his angry head. He looked so pretty. Good enough to eat and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from begging him to fuck your mouth.

It would be to much of a risk, fuck.

You nod, straddling his lap the best you could, aligning yourself up with him. His gaming chair wasn’t the ideal place. And even though it wasn’t your first time riding him while he sat on it. The first month of you living together, the two of you had practically fucked in every room on every surface level whenever you could. Often times you would secretly ride him while he gamed with Seungcheol and Jungkook. But though, you weren’t a stranger to the act itself, it still wasn’t your favorite and by far the most uncomfortable place to have sex in.

Still you start to sink down slowly, both of you moaning simultaneously. You were so wet from all the orgasms he had pulled out of you earlier that he slipped right in. “You’re still so wet baby.” He breathes, bottoming out instantly.. He brings your shirt over your head and throws it to the side. “Let them see how fucking wet you are for me.” He growls, placing both of his hands on top of your ass cheeks and spreading them for the camera.

“You make me wet daddy.” You whisper, clenching around him, moaning when his cock twitches inside of you. He hums, giving both of your cheeks a slap before wrapping his arms around your waist, using your body to position himself better, so that you feel the head of his cock poking your g-spot.

You’re in heaven.

“That’s right, want to tell them how many orgasms you already had today?” He hums, rolling his hips, testing the waters to see if he can move yet.

“Five,” You pant, licking your lips, eyes locked on his “Daddy made me cum five times.” You whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades, resting your forehead against his. “I want more.” You say, closing your eyes in delight. His hips canting up, hitting your g-spot whenever he could. Sending blissful waves of pleasure through you. If you weren’t so sensitive you would’ve been able to hold out a bit longer, but you were already starting to feel the pressure build itself up in the pit of your stomach.

“My angel is always greedy for my cock.” He grunts, closing his hand around your throat gently, while the other tries its best to guide you down onto his cock. He wishes he could save the stream to then watch it over and over and over until he’s run out of cum. But that just makes the idea of making a sex tape with you even more appealing.  

“Kiss me baby.” He moans, guiding your face to his lips. He doesn’t waste any time. Kisses you with so much hunger, swallowing your cute little whines of pleasure, while he fucks into you. In all honesty he could care less about his own pleasure, seeing you come undone around him was euphoric. You always got so much tighter through your orgasm, your pussy sucking him in, refusing to let him go.

It was impossible to pull out sometimes. Actually, it was impossible to pull out all the time. He basked in your heat. Loved the feeling of your soft velvety walls around him. It was everything to him. You were everything to him.

“Close,” You gasp, bucking your own hips, meeting him halfway. Wonwoo’s hands run down your back so your chest is against his. You bury your face into the crock of his neck as he plants his feet down on the ground, using it has leverage to fuck into you hard and fast.

“Oh, fuck, baby cum around my cock, daddy needs to pull out.” He pants, nails digging into your back. By now you're panting, trying to catch your breath as your orgasm threatens to break through. It’s all too much, too overwhelming and you feel it rip through your body like a tsunami wave, making your toes curl, gushing down your legs, pushing Wonwoo’s cock out from the impact. Your chest bows off his, arching your back riding out your orgasm, lifting your hips up, moaning loudly for him.

He watches you, cursing, taking a hold of his cock, tugging on it hard, rubbing it over wet pussy lips fast, chasing his own orgasm. You grab a hold of his bicep, grinding yourself on him, “Daddy’s going to cum, you want that?” He moans, tugging harder on his cock.

“Mhmm, on my pussy please.” You hum, grabbing a hold of it, pressing it against your wet lips moving your hips fast, twitching at the overstimulation. He chuckles, giving himself one last tug before spilling himself on you. Hot ropes of cum, covering your stomach and pussy it makes his mouth water,

“So pretty, want to show the camera?” He mumbles, against your cheek. You whine, holding him close, shaking your head.

“Only for you.” You whisper, hiding your face in his neck.

He chuckles. “Alright let me turn the stream off so I can clean you up.” He kisses the crown of your head leaning forward, taking a hold of his mouse.

BOOtang16: holy shit, that’s the best thing I’ve ever witnessed Not.Dino donated 100 coins sexcaliber: fuck, I’m- Gam3boivern18: I’m nEVER GOING TO BE THE SAME AFTER THIS gyuishard: pls adopt me, I want to join<3 gyuishard donated 200 coins Sextigerhosh56: YO WTF DID I JUST WITNESS I THOUGHT I WAS COMING OVER FOR DINNER Sextigerhosh56: ITS MAYA BTW, CHEOL, SHUA AND HANNIE WERE WATCHING THIS ON THE BIG SCREEN LIKE IT WAS PRIME TIME TV WHEN WE ARRIVED Sextigerhosh56: THEY’RE STILL COOKING Sextigerhosh56: wtf WONWOO A DADDY KINK Cherrycheol69: HEY! COME HELP SET THE TABLE Sextigerhosh56: g2g dad’s yelling again :( Babes call me when you can. Dom.han: call ME first though. Gam3boivern18: I have no idea what’s going on in the chat tonight but I’m not complaining. I’m not only getting good jerking content but a sitcom too. Gam3boivern18 donated 300 coins

Wonwoo shakes his head. As much as he was going to miss streaming, and all of his loyal viewers. He was finally ready to move on. “I hope you guys enjoyed that. This account will be gone by tomorrow. I’m grateful for how supportive you’ve all been these past three years, but I’m ready for the next chapter of my life and with my beautiful girlfriend, who I think has fallen asleep on me.” He smiles, your loving eyes hidden behind your eyelids.

“Thank you for coming to Woo’s game room and playing with me one last time.”

He moves the mouse over the red button and ends the steam, instantly the red dot stops blinking. He sighs, throwing himself back in his chair. For the first time in three years he feels genuinely happy and he wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything else in the world.

“Stay laying down.”

You let out a whine, sending him a glare. “I’m thirsty, I want water.”

“Then I’ll go get it for you.” He retaliates, taking his arm away from your body, planting a loud kiss against your cheek, making you huff in annoyance. “I’ll be back, don't get up, you need to regain your energy.” He scolds, getting up.

“I do have my energy. It came back after we took a nap.” You sigh, pulling the sheets up to your neck. Aftercare Wonwoo was one of your favorite Wonwoo’s. He made sure he had everything you needed, water, kisses, pancakes, boba...love. You name it, he would give it to you. Go out of his way to reassure you that with him you’d always be safe and cared for.

Today, he had run you a warm bath, with those bath bombs he absolutely despised. They always left the bathtub stained and filled with glitter. It had clogged the drain last week and the two of you had gotten into a small argument about you overusing your bath privileges. The shower was nice and spacious. It even had that waterfall shower head you had spent two days obsessing over when you had first seen it during the open house. So, he couldn’t quite understand why you chose to take baths instead of showers. Whatever the reason was, the two of you had come down to a compromise.

Baths, once a week on Wednesdays = together.  

Today though, he was overriding that rule. He knew he had over exerted your body, so he drew you a nice warm bath, with non scented candles, a bath bomb and even added the stress relieving bath salt that smelled like green tea and eucalyptus.

“You need more energy.” He sticks his tongue out at you playfully, “You officially start your new job on Monday.” He points out before walking out of the room, naked.

Ever since you moved in together, the two of you had started learning more things about each other. Like how Wonwoo either lived naked or covered from head to toe. There was no in between. The first time you had witnessed it was on a Tuesday after he got out of work. The second he had walked through the front door he was taking off his clothes, draping them over the couch. Without a word he sat next to you, cuddled you naked while you tried to make sense of what you had just witnessed.

He was laughing about it for days.

It was crazy how far the two of you had come. From sitting next to each other in Ms.Sunshine's kindergarten class, and sharing your sixty four pack of crayons with him. Him breaking the shitty sharpener on the back of the box was the best thing he could have ever done.

Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t accidentally gotten the purple crayon stuck. The two of you would’ve probably never become inseparable. Surely would’ve never done live porn together or fallen in love.

A small analogy for a story that either of you still had trouble understanding.

All that you knew was that it was one whole big cliche. The usuals ones you would hear about in those cheesy coming of age 80’s movies. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. You were happy. So happy that you could burst into tears and laughter. Wonwoo was your everything and you were his.

The two of you belonged together or not at all.

Humming, Wonwoo walks back in with a glass of cold water and the Mango sherbet he sneakily bought at the grocery store on Monday. “You okay, you look like someone stuck a push pin into your big toe.” He says, handing you the glass of water.

You grab it, “That’s the weirdest analogy I’ve ever heard.” You say before taking a drink of your water. He sits down on his side of the bed, scooting closer to you. “I was just thinking.” You nod, reaching over to your bedside table, placing the glass on top of the coaster.

He hands you a spoon and opens the lid of the mango sherbet, half of it already gone. You knew he had been sneaking in bites every chance you got. “About what?” He tilts his, licking his spoon first before digging it into the sorbet. “If it’s about work, don’t worry I know you’ll do amazing. Blow them out of the water with your amazing editing skills.” He winks.

You roll your eyes, Monday was two days away and Wonwoo had already begun his famous pep talks.

You were insanely lucky to have him.

“It’s not that, I wasn’t going to start worrying about that until Sunday night right before bed.” You joke, digging your spoon into the sugary mango sweetness. “I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

Wonwoo nods, taking the spoon out of his mouth and swallowing. “That’s crazy cause I never stop.”

You shake your head, letting go of the spoon, wincing as it clanks to the side of the plastic carton. “You’re so annoying.” You say, getting up on your knees and hugging him. “But I love you so much that I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Wonwoo chuckles, placing the container to the side, hugging you back. “That’s great cause you will never be without me.” He turns his face, kissing your temple and then your cheek. “Unfortunately if you don’t know this by now. If that ring on your pretty little finger doesn’t remind you every day. I will.” He pulls away, placing both of his hands on top of your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs underneath your eyelids. “I am never going to go anywhere.”

“I love you Wonwoo.”

“I love you too, my little mango sherbet.” He says rubbing his nose against yours.

You roll your eyes, “I’m taking it back.”

“Too bad, the rules say you can’t.”

[whatanoof]

Battling Death Itself

Anon I am so sorry that this took so long. Stuff happens, but it's still frustrating to not know if someone is ignoring your ask, if tumblr ate it, or if(like in this case) requests are just taking abnormally long. But here we go, hope you're ready for the angsty angst:(

gif credit to @badbatch

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, swearing, death omen-like stuff, creepy dream, fluff

Summary: As a medic, you’re used to battling bleeds, cuts, burns, etc. You’re used to patients who are willing to heal, not one reckless Jedi Padawan who is ready to throw everything away to accomplish his mission.

A/N: A huge thank you to my friend @marvelassassin221b for the help with this prompt when I got stuck. You da best, and never forget it

One cannot go through a war and come out unchanged. You can pretend that the terror, violence, anger, anxiety, and selfish instinct didn’t affect you. You can gaslight and fool yourself until the bantha come home, but no one, not even the smallest civilian child, walks away without it burning into their minds like a brand of survival that will cost some of your humanity.

When you dream, you dream of a pile of lightsabers. There must be hundreds, maybe thousands, piled high enough that you cannot make out the ground from your position at the peak of the mountain. They clink and jangle under your feet, like a death rattle that refuses to leave you alone.

You want to leave. You have to leave, you can feel the spirits of the fallen Jedi Order hovering over your head, gazing down at you in disapproval everytime you disrespect their revered weapons. You take a step off of the peak.

A rending screech echoes into the death filled air, and the metal handles collapse under your feet, sliding down the side of the mountain like an avalanche and taking you with it. The sabers pile over your head, blocking out the already dim light.

Have to leave. Have to fight. So you thrash furiously, clawing at the tomb encapsulating your living body among the dead. Somehow, you find the surface. You break through the pile with a gasp, inhaling air into your starved lungs, hands pawing at the moving surface to keep you afloat in the raw desperation of survival instinct.

A weathered lightsaber is clenched in your hand, double bladed and beaten up. With a shaking hand, you press the button to activate the blade. The blue blade slices through the air with a throaty thrum and through the reality of your dream, dropping you into the darkness. You hit the ground with a grunt, somehow not impaling yourself on the lightsaber even as you stare in awestruck horror. Because you recognize the blade and handle.

A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you whirl with a gasp. A tall figure stands behind you, a Lasat male with kind eyes and clad in robes belonging to a Jedi. He holds a hand out to you, “That doesn’t belong to the living world.”

---

The crackle of the comm yanks you out of your fitful doze, but as you strain to listen from your position in the sitting area, no words come through the white noise. You sit up and look into the cockpit. Cere is typing furiously with eyes glued to frequency readings in front of her.

Seconds later the array in front of Greez begins to beep and the Latero leans forward to study the sensor map display. A tiny ship lit in red dances through the grid. Greez grabs the holo and enlarges it, examining the lines of the ship carefully.

“Cere--”

“Greez--”

The two stop and look at each other before Cere takes precedence, “I’ve only seen these kinds of frequencies from one kind of occupation.”

Greez nods, “I recognize the ship. It’s Haxion Brood.”

You stand and approach his chair, “Axiom what?”

Greez replies, arms darting across the controls with ease as he manipulates the energy to further analyze the readings from the environment. “The Haxion Brood, kid. Biggest smuggling and gambling ring in the Outer Rim.” He turns his head to address Cere. “I can decode their transmissions. Transfer the readings to my screen.”

Cere hits a few buttons and Greez pulls a headset over his ears. The air in the room is so thick that you could cut it with a vibroblade, until Greez speaks, “We have to go. Cere, set a course for these star coordinates.” Cere takes a single look at the symbols and nods before heading to the navigation map.

Your brow scrunches, “How do you understand their code?”

Greez waves your question off, “Not important. Point is, I can, and I know where we have to go.”

Everything is moving far too fast for you to understand. “And where is that?”

Greez barks out a sharp laugh, “Officially? Nowhere.” One arm distracts itself from the preflight check to dissolve the coordinates from the holo projector. “Unofficially? Ordo Eris.”

The Mantis lurches as it takes off and you stumble, “Wait, we have to wait for Cal to get back!”

Cere speaks from her position at the map, “He’s not coming back. We’re going to get him.”

‘Why would you need to go to Ord--’ You feel the blood drain from your face with the realization. What did the dream mean? A grim understanding filters into the processed air so that no words are needed.

“Get your kit ready. We’re going to need it.”

---

“Strap in, kid!”

Even with all of your preparation for the moment of contact, you’re still not ready for the awful screeching and rending of metal that echoes through the hull as it contacts the floor of the arena. Above the chaos and noise, you hear Greez curse. The harness digs painfully into your skin, but it keeps you in your seat long enough for the Mantis to jolt to a stop. The door opens, and Cal stumbles on board, lightsaber glowing in his hand while the other clutches his side. BD-1 clings to his shirt, beeping and chirping as it hangs on for dear life.

“Go go go!” Cal collapses against the wall, gasping for air. BD screeches and jumps onto the floor, gazing up at Cal and blipping while glancing at you periodically. You can’t tear your eyes away from the lightsaber, which has slipped to the ground in the frenzy. That doesn’t belong in the living world.

Greez hasn’t stopped swearing colorfully in at least five different languages excluding Basic, but it all fades to the background as you fumble to release your harness. “Cal!”

It’s not releasing, why isn’t it releasin--

The mechanism clicks and you’re out of your seat before the Mantis is fully off the ground. You reach Cal right as he begins to slip, “Whoa, careful there.”

Damn he’s heavy. You lower him to the ground, supporting his head on your lap. He chuckles breathlessly with eyes half-closed, “Why should I try to be careful when I have you?”

You laugh shakily, “I can’t be with you all of the time.” BD-1 bobs its head in agreement, dragging your med bag within reach with one foot.

Greez calls back, “Hang on, making the jump now!”

You grab a support bar and hunch over Cal. BD hops into your lap, and you wrap your other arm around the little droid to help hold it steady against you until the ship stops shaking around you and the peaceful quiet of hyperspace fills the hull. You allow yourself to breathe as the asteroid fades into the distance out the viewport. For now, the world will hold together.

---

By the time Cere comes back to check on you, you’ve maneuvered Cal into an upright position propped against the wall.

“Hey.” She sounds tired, stressed, strung tight like a bow string that’s about to snap. “Greez set course for Kashyyyk. We can lay low there, the Rebels have all but driven out the rest of the Imperials.”

You nod in acknowledgement. Cal is silent beside you. BD-1 boops its agreement.

She continues, “That rescue tore up the Mantis a bit. Overworked the thrusters and damaged internal regulating software, so Greez and I are going down to run diagnostics and see what we can repair en route. BD.” The little droid chirps. “Gonna need your help with the electrical portion.” BD-1 bobs its head and scampers over to her, and Cere puts a hand on the floor so that the droid can climb her shirt to her shoulder. She straightens, and regards the two of you, “All good here?”

You nod. “This guy needs a little patching up too.”

Cal gives a halfhearted wave and grin from his position on the floor, “Can confirm.”

Cere chuckles, “Alright then. Comm if you need anything. And be responsible.”

“I’m always responsible.” Cal protests. Cere doesn’t respond to him, opting instead to glance at you with an amused resignation in her eyes. She turns and leaves with BD, who chirps a goodbye as they vanish through the trapdoor that leads to the engine room.

You sigh and turn back to Cal, “I don’t even know where to start. Here.” You tug his poncho to get him to sit up.

“Careful. There’s acid.”

You yank your hand back with a hiss, shaking it off as you study the cloth. He’s right, there’s discoloration around his abdomen and the poncho is smoking, something that you missed in the chaos of landing and taking off from Ordo Eris. Upon closer examination, the acid had eaten through the poncho and soaked into the shirt below. Luckily, none touched your skin, but more unluckily, Cal has been wearing his shirt for far too long to be healthy.

“Take it off.” You lift the edge of his shirt to help him pull it over his head.

He grunts as the fabric lifts, revealing reddened and irritated skin that you begin to put healing balm on, “If you wanted me shirtless, all you had to do was ask.”

Blood rushes to your face even as you send an unimpressed look his way. He’s grinning, a smug and infuriating grin that lets you know that he knows that he got to you. You spread more of the medicine onto his skin, “You’re surprisingly chatty for someone who almost died.”

He stretches his arms, painfully attractive with how his chest and arms flex and his face scrunches and his hair--

You blink, abandoning the train of thought and finishing your work. You cap the medicine and return it to your bag. “Let me check your leg.” He sends you a look, a frustrated look that is so unique to Cal that it makes you chuckle. “I saw you limp in here, don’t give me that face.”

He groans, “I’m fine. It got me in the door, didn’t it?”

You roll your eyes. Typical. “Take them off.”

“Is this a strip game or something?” He’s… flirting with you?

“Do it.”

You did not think that this is how you would be getting Cal Kestis pantless in front of you for the first time. You’d imagined that you would be more excited with every inch of skin exposed, that your heart would race and the blood would rush to your face and your… yeah.

But instead, your stomach drops with every bruise that is revealed, the lump in your throat grows when you hear him suck a breath through gritted teeth when the cloth rubs over sensitive skin. By the time he’s pulled the pants around his ankles, your jaw is clenched hard enough to hurt. There’s a gash the length of your hand slicing across his skin. Although it’s gratefully shallow and mostly clotted, it's ugly enough to garner a double take and a long stare as you consider your options. When you speak, it’s a barely breathed whisper.

“Damn it Cal.”

He laughs, but you can hear the pained grunt that he tries to hide when he shifts, “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“When did you do this to your leg?” You yank a bacta bag out.

He hisses as you disinfect the area, “Uh, a little after I found BD. Right before I went into the arena.”

You stop cold and stare at him, “You fought on this?”

“Well what else was I supposed to do? Roll over and die?”

You sputter, “No, but I-- no.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, a single, infuriatingly sassy, red eyebrow and lays back to allow you to apply the bacta infusion.

“How’s it going in here?” Cere chooses that exact moment to walk in, and you suppose you should be grateful that she didn’t witness the petty argument.

You shoot a look at Cal, but he’s refusing to meet your eyes. So kriffing immature. You respond to Cere, “Good. Could be better.”

She nods once, “We received a transmission from the rebel. Tarfull is willing to meet you, Cal. There are contacts on Kashyyyk that will direct you to him.”

Cal’s face is drawn and serious, aging him ten years as he considers her words. “Tell them I’ll be there. How long until we reach Kashyyyk?”

“An hour. Enough time to finish the inflight electrical repairs, so BD will be available to go with you.”

“I’ll be ready.” What? Did you just hear him correctly?

You wait until Cere leaves the room before you whirl on Cal, “Are you crazy?”

“What?”

But you’re not listening anymore, “No, you’re definitely crazy, or I’m going crazy, because I just heard you tell Cere that you would be ready to plunge into the wilderness while you’re half dead.” A pile of lightsabers.

“It’s a cut, I’m hardly half de--”

“Okay, a cut. A cut that could get infected, or could start bleeding again, or could slow you down. It won’t be such an easy fix next time if you go out like this.”

He says your name sharply, “It’s my job to go and get that holocron.”

You cross your arms over your chest tightly, hugging close enough in hopes that you can calm your pounding heart, “And it’s my job to keep you alive.”

“The longer we wait, the more danger Tarfull is in. The Rebels can’t stay in one place forever.” He pushes off of the wall, aiming to propel himself off of the ground and stand, but you catch him with a firm hand in the center of his chest.

“You need rest. Bacta might be a miracle of modern medicine, but it can’t work in an hour.” A death rattle that refuses to leave you alone.

He says your name, so seriously and rigidly that you stop and look at him, “Let me get up. I need to go.”

“No!” Your fingers twitch over the needle. “Cal Kestis. You stay right there, or I swear to the Maker I will sedate you!” Fallen Jedi hovering over you.

“This isn’t a matter of my own well being anymore, our mission is on the line!” He pushes your hand away and sits up. “This is for those children out there, so that the Sisters don’t get to them, so that they can have normal lives.”

“Don’t you fucking put that on me Cal, I know what is at risk. I know that you are the only stars forsaken Jedi in this Maker damned galaxy who can help those children, but what use are you to them if you’re dead?!” Lightsabers rattling over your head, trapping the living amongst the dea--

“It doesn’t matt--”

“Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!” You’re screaming, you know that you shouldn’t be screaming when he’s lying there injured and possibly dying, when you know that his heart is pure in intention, but why can’t he see how much you need him to be okay. Your fists are clenched, waving in the air above him and its only when his eyes widen and he puts his hands up defensively that you realize you had picked up the hypodermic needle.

Your eyes meet his and your body trembles, whether from rage or fear you can’t tell. Carefully, moving millimeter by millimeter, you lower your hand and drop the needle. It makes no sound as it hits the ground, which is remarkable considering how effectively it had silenced the situation.

“I--” Your voice cracks and in any other situation you would be embarrassed. But you clear your throat roughly, “I can’t lose you. I won’t let you go off and get yourself killed. You need to let your body heal, because you can keep going, keep pushing yourself to the limit and I have no doubt that you are strong enough to, but your body is going to fail you one day, and it’s my job to make sure it doesn’t just yet so please listen to me, I’ve never asked for you to stay before.” You’re rambling, you’re talking too much because you scraped just a little too close to the surface with that first sentence. “Please Cal, I couldn’t live with myself if I let you go out there like this and yo--”

You’re cut off by Cal’s body contacting your firmly, arms curling around your body as he hugs you tight to his chest. And all of your worries and problems that you were ranting about seconds earlier fade away because his bare chest is right against the skin of your cheek and he’s so warm and smells so good and you’ve forgotten why you were--

“Breath. It’s okay.” He demonstrates with several deep breaths, chest rising and falling against your cheek. You hear the whoosh of air in his lungs, and you shakily try to imitate. You fail the first two times, your pounding heart and surging adrenaline forcing your breaths to come shallow and fast. But he stays close to you, radiating comfort and calm that soaks into you and gradually slows you down.

“You’re still not going out there on that leg.”

Cal shushes you, “I know. I need you to calm down before we get to Kashyyyk. I’m not going to leave until I know you’re okay, and those children still need saving.”

Annoyance sparks through you, “I told you not to put that on me.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. That was a cheap shot.” You wriggle to try and get out of his grip, but he only tightens his arms around you. “Stop fighting me.”

“Only if you stop fighting me.” Still, he’s too strong and you can’t deny that you’re exactly where you want to be.

“Oh I intend to. But I can’t stay forever. How long do you need me to rest?” His chin rests on the top of your head.

You hum thoughtfully, snuggling closer with your fingers drumming gently on his skin, “Bacta treatments optimize after five hours of immersion in the tissue.”

“I’ll give you two hours.”

“Three.” You counter. “I can accelerate the healing if you give me three hours.”

He hums deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin, “Deal.”

You stay like that for a few more minutes, peacefully breathing the filtered Mantis air that smells like antibiotic burn cream and metal. When you open your eyes, your gaze lands on the lightsaber, which has rolled into a corner since the hit and run on Ordo Eris.

“Cal.” Your voice is raspy from the lump in your throat. “The lightsaber.”

He hums, calling the handle to his hand with the Force, “Yeah. Should keep it safe.” He clips it to his belt with one hand, the other still crooked firmly to cradle you.

“Where did you get it?”

He pauses for a fraction of a second, then his arm returns to stroke the back of your head, “It was Master Tapal’s. The Purge. It’s all that I have left from before.”

“Your Master. Was he a Lasat?”

Cal chuckles, “Most intimidating one that I’ve ever met. Wisest one too, but he had a leg up on the competition, being a Jedi Master.” He pulls away slightly to catch your gaze. “How did you know that he was a Lasat?”

You hum, burrowing back into his chest, “I’ll explain later.” For now, the world would hold together.

Cal Taglist: @marvelassassin221b, @my-awakened-ghost

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

[crispy-chan]

Maze of Memories ch.1 | bang chan x reader (hunger games au)

➳ pairing: bang chan x f.reader (ft. felix)

➳ genre: hunger games au, action, fluff if you squint, angst

➳ warnings: infatuation, major and minor character death (in future chapters), angst, cursing

➳ summary: you're the unlucky reaped female tribute from district 9 with no fighting skills whatsoever. all you want is to enjoy your last few days of life before perishing in the arena, but you somehow manage to catch the eye of the volunteer from district 2…

➳ word count: 5.5k

➳ a/n: hello, welcome to my new series. I've been brainstorming for this during the weekend and finally managed to start writing the chapter today after online class. Please excuse any mistakes since I wrote and edited this all today. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated. Feel free to hmu about any questions or comments. Hope you enjoy <3

ps: listen to maze of memories (I got the inspo from this song)

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***

"District 9 is Panem's bread bowl, giving us the fertile harvest we need to keep rising as a nation. Its amber waves of grain are an inspiration to us all."

***

You sighed groggily as you threw your feet over your bed. It was past eight o'clock, way too early to be awake in your opinion. But it seems like the opinion of some peasant from a poorer district was never exactly important to the Capitol. Why else would they continue holding such a dreadful event like the Hunger Games. You could hear your parents prepping in the kitchen, your mom had definitely managed to pick a dress for you to wear today…

And you were right. It was a beautiful red sundress with a gold accent at the hem. It was actually too beautiful, in your opinion, for this horrid event you had to take part in. You carefully slipped it on and twirled in front of the mirror. Oh, how you wish you could wear it on a different occasion. You seriously doubted you could ever look at it again, let alone voluntarily put it on after the reaping.

You didn't however expect it to be the last time you'd be even stepping in your house.

You ate the soft steaming bun with butter for breakfast and bid your parents goodbye since they weren't even permitted in the same area during the reaping. Stepping out of the house, you joined the crowd of kids agonizingly walking to what could eventually become their death sentence.

Although you had already done this five times, it still didn't manage to ease your nerves. The only thing keeping you afloat every year was the prospect of getting closer to adulthood and thus escaping this terrifying period of life.

You begrudgingly quickened your pace, hoping to catch up with the mob of equally frightened teenagers but failed to notice the boy turning from around the corner without an apparent care in the world.

“Shit, sorry,” you rubbed your head as you slowly gazed up and met his eyes. “No worries,” he muttered, more so to himself, “I wasn't exactly looking where I was going.” His voice held a velvety deep quality, making you shudder in your spot. You would have never expected it from a boy with such a youthful face. He flashed you a soft smile, which made you notice the beautiful freckles littered across his face. He was truly breathtaking.

“Ehm, we should probably go, don't want to be late…”

You were broken from your trance and immediately nodded, hoping not to further embarrass yourself. You could feel your face heating up as the boy merely chuckled. 

“Let's go,” you stammered, hoping to preserve at least a bit of your dignity.

The both of you briskly walked to the main square, where the event took place every year. You reached the spot from where only the same gender could continue so you bid each other goodbye. 

“Good luck,” he murmured, holding your hand in his. You couldn't manage anything else than a simple “you too,” before you guys were forcefully separated by the peacekeepers. You stole a last glance at him, as he disappeared in the sea of other teenage boys.

You let them push you into the hoard of girls, blending in with the rest of them. In retrospect, you were nothing to them - they didn't care about the hardworking people of this district. They only cared about the fat paycheck they would receive at the end of every month for cooperating with the Capitol and blatantly ignoring human rights. You were absolutely disgusted by these people but knew better than to disobey them. You really didn't want to get publicly whipped by some lame-ass cowards who hid behind white suits that resembled plastic armor. 

Just as the town clock struck twelve, the mayor of the district stepped up onto the podium and began his speech. He went through the history of Panem, the country that rose up from the ashes, and reminded everybody (not that anyone has forgotten) the reason why the games are held every year.

If it wasn't for lives being at stake, you would be bored out of your mind. You've already heard this speech multiple times and could probably say it in your sleep if required.

You snorted at the apparent giddiness of the mayor. It's not like he had to worry about his child. The boy turned eighteen last year and was free from this godforsaken curse. The chances of anyone wealthy being chosen were very slim too. The poorer families had their kids’ names in the big glass ball as many as thirty times, the tesserae consisting of a small supply of grain and oil being enough to tempt them and make their kids risk their necks.

After the lengthy speech, the Capitol provided escort (you recalled her name to be something along the lines of Flaverie, or was it Flamiere?) hopped up on stage and excitedly shouted: “Happy Hunger Games.” 

As if this was some sort of holiday. Although you wouldn't put it past her to think like that - these Capitol airheads seemed to think the Hunger Games were a reason to celebrate. If only they lived in someone else's shoes for the reaping. Then they would understand the terror of this whole ordeal and maybe at least sympathize with the families affected instead of telling them that it's an honor to compete and they should be proud to watch their children being slaughtered for the entertainment of the rich.

She slowly dipped her hand inside the bowl, loving the attention she received, and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. 

“For the female tribute...” she unfolded the slip of paper at an agonizingly slow pace and read the name, almost enjoying the way everybody hung on her lips, “we have the lovely Y/n L/n, can we get an applause please.”

Your blood ran cold the moment you heard your name roll off her tongue. It felt like you were under hypnosis - you didn't even realize it but you were wordlessly walking up to the podium as everybody cleared the way for you, most likely relieved that they were spared this ticket to hell.

She gave you an awkward hug as she lifted your hand like you were some sort of hero and exclaimed loudly, “Y/n L/n, what a beautiful girl. Now I'm sure you're all excited for the male tribute accompanying her!”

You zoned out at her babbling as you roamed the square, trying to catch sight of your poor parents having to watch their only child being sentenced to death. Sure enough, you could see your mother weeping into the chest of your father, whose eyes were steadily watering. 

You refocused your attention on the escort pulling out yet another slip of paper that would possibly fuck up another family.

“As for the male tribute,” she gushed as if this were a simple lottery, “we have Lee Felix.”

The name seemed somewhat familiar but you couldn't exactly pin it to a face. Your eyes flashed in recognition as the boy you ran into earlier today quietly walked up the steps.

The odds were definitely not in your favor today.

“Oh my, what a handsome young man,” she embraced him. “How old are you?”

“I'm turning eighteen in a few months,” he said gravely in that deep voice of his. Flaverie looked shocked for a moment before she quickly composed herself and smiled at the both of you.

“May the odds ever be in your favor,” she recited the infamous line and motioned at the peacekeepers to come and collect you.

You took the time to try and recompose yourself. It was a lot to take in obviously - the threat always loomed over your head but you never actually thought you'd be reaped. The possibility of having to kill was absolutely disgusting and you hoped you wouldn't have to resort to ending someone else’s life. 

They shoved you and Felix each into a separate room where you waited for the couple minutes they would give you to bid your family farewell as the probability of one of you surviving was almost nonexistent. The careers almost always won, easily overpowering the malnourished children of the poorer districts. They also usually had the whole Capitol including the sponsors on their side.

You whipped your head up at the stomping you heard. Your mother and father ran into the room and practically tackled you as they pulled you into the possibly last hug you were gonna receive. You couldn't help but start weeping too, snuggling your face into the chest of your mother.

“I'm so sorry my baby,” she sobbed as she patted your head. Your father rubbing comforting circles on your back as tears rolled down his face.

“You have to promise us you will try your best to survive, ok?” she muttered.

“Forget about us and just focus on making it out,” your father declared but his voice horribly cracked at the end resulting in him bursting out in tears and joining the group hug.

After a few seconds of incoherent sobbing, the peacekeepers ripped you away from the comforting hold of your parents. You managed to whimper a goodbye before the doors slammed shut.

The last thing you were ever gonna tell them, you realized later.

As they say - no use crying over spilled milk. You weren't crying. You were practically wailing as you wiped your snotty nose into your sleeve.

I'm too young to die, you thought.

***

On the train, you met your mentor. He was a handsome man in his late twenties having won the games over a decade ago.

“I'm Min Yoongi,” he swiftly introduced himself. “I'll be your mentor for the games and I will walk you through the steps and try to ensure the victory of one of you.”

He had a lean build, maybe an inch taller than Felix, pale glowing skin, and a mop of silver unruly hair, probably dyed you noted. His nose was sharp and pointed, just like his jawline, and his catlike eyes contrasted with his ghostly skin. Overall he was quite good looking but you noticed how his eyes seemed lifeless. You almost snorted, of course they were lifeless. How could anybody in their right mind be all happy after going through the Hunger Games? He probably saw his district partner die, possibly even had to kill a few people himself to be standing here today.

***

“So tell me now, what are you guys capable of? Anything that could be useful in the arena?” Yoongi leaned further into the plush couch opposite to the one you and Felix were occupying. 

He stared at the both of you, waiting to hear something he could work with and build a strategy.

“I'm a black belt in taekwondo and can use a knife,” Felix declared in that bottomless voice of his, “but  I'm not that great with it, just some beginner stuff.”

Yoongi nodded in understanding before redirecting his intense gaze onto you.

“What about you Y/n?” he inquired.

“About that…” you muttered with a dejected sigh, “I'm not partially skilled in any fighting technique. I can probably recognize more plants than others and move quite fast since I don't exactly have much muscle mass,” you pointed to yourself, “but that's about it.”

“Not bad, not bad,” Yoongi said more so to himself and gave you something akin to a smile.

“I'd love to give you guys some time to get to know each other and relax but we're running out of it and every moment discussing and strategizing is crucial and could potentially save your ass in the arena.”

The both of you hummed in agreement and perked your ears, wanting to soak up anything your mentor could tell you. Unlike all the other people from your district, he had actually been through the Games and survived so if you were gonna listen to anyone, it would be him.

***

It was past dinner. The three of you had gone through many conversations from how to avoid the bloodbath to the importance of sponsorships. Yoongi couldn't stress enough, how the two of you should avoid the cornucopia. 

“If you're swift enough, you can grab a small pack near you but don't you dare try to fight with the careers over the stuff. It's seriously not worth it.”

You could swear you saw pain flash in his eyes but it was gone before you could even think about it any further.

“After that, whether you managed to secure something or not...scram!”

You gulped and nodded along with Felix. You could tell Yoongi was really serious about this, maybe his district mate died during the initial bloodbath and he just wanted you guys to avoid that fate and not perish during the first minutes.

“Now, this will be completely up to you guys, but I’d definitely recommend you guys team up...at least for the first few days in the arena. You are obviously at a disadvantage here so teaming up could lower your chances of dying right away.”

He looked at the both of you, expecting some comments.

You nervously looked up from your spot in the armchair and stammered, “I would definitely not mind teaming up… but I'd understand if Felix wouldn't want to.”

Both you and Yoongi stared at the freckled boy, waiting for him to state his opinion on the matter. Hopefully, he wouldn't oppose it. The thought of teaming up with someone from your district would definitely provide some comfort to your already weak and deprived mind.

“I'd also be in favor of forming an alliance,” his deep voice rang through the compartment and you almost jumped with joy. You at least wouldn't be completely alone.

Yoongi smiled softly at the display. Although it pained him to know that one of you is most likely going to have to kill or watch someone else kill the other, these short-term alliances were a little confidence boost needed for the lonely kids who were here against their own will. It was nice to have someone watch their back during training and exchange skills and knowledge with. He hoped the enthusiasm would last you guys into the arena.

***

You knew you should be sleeping. You will need all the rest you can get for the upcoming days, but you just couldn't fall asleep. Many thoughts ran through your mind. Like how the hell were you even going to train with the other tributes? You were aware there were many younger ones, probably at a bigger disadvantage than you, but you couldn't help but worry. 

Your biggest fear was definitely the careers. They were practically serial killers in-training trapped in teenager's bodies. You saw enough games to know that they mercilessly killed anyone who got in their way. Slaughtering children was definitely not a problem for them. You heard Flaverie chat with some staff about the volunteers of this year. A boy named Chris has definitely caught their attention as they gushed about him for twenty minutes straight. 

“I heard everyone started screaming when he volunteered,” she screeched. “He is apparently the best fighter back in two. People are already betting on him to be the winner.”

The realization made you sick. Even your own escort was gushing about some career and she apparently thought he would emerge as the victor too. It's not like you expected to win the Games but it still felt like a stab in the heart. You quickly rushed to some unoccupied room where you could finally let go. You started sobbing, how was this fair? You never chose to be here. What did you do to deserve to be here? As far as you were concerned, you haven't done anything to warrant being slaughtered on live television. 

Your crying was apparently not quiet enough as the door slowly creaked open. In the doorway stood a pajama-clad Felix. He looked over you curiously before taking brisk steps in your direction. Your eyes widened like diner plates and before you could say anything, he engulfed you in a warm hug. You were so shocked it momentarily stopped the waterfall of tears but after fully comprehending what he had done, a fresh wave of them rolled down your face.

“Shh, it's ok,” he murmured while rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. It worked like a charm because after a few moments, your sobbing slowly subsided until you were only occasionally hiccuping.

When you finally stopped, you croaked out a weak ‘thank you’. Felix just smiled and sat down on the floor next to you. You sat for a while in the comforting silence before you managed to speak properly.

“I'm so sorry for that. This is so embarrassing - I completely understand if you don't want to be part-” 

“Shhh. Who said that I don't want to be partners anymore? Don't worry, this is a completely normal reaction,” he comforted you. 

“I think it would be best if we could support one another while we still can.”

You smiled at him softly. Being teammates with Felix was definitely one of the best things that could happen to you.

“I just heard that the district two volunteer already managed to knock off everyone's socks. They're already betting on him to be the winner.”

Felix nodded in understanding. “But that means he will definitely be a cocky bastard and will underestimate the rest of us,” he chuckled, pinching your still damp cheek.

“Ouch,” you laughed and swatted his hand away, finally feeling at ease. “I guess…”

You guys sat in a comfortable silence yet again, before you decided to confide in him, “you know what's the worst? The fact that I basically pity myself. I feel like we did nothing to deserve this. I haven't lived a full enough life… there are so many things I didn't get the chance to do,” you sighed angrily.

“What did you not get the chance to do?” Felix asked curiously with a raised brow.

“I really wanted to bake my parents a cake for their anniversary. And I've never been on a date,” you lamented, blushing at the last part.

“Seriously Y/n? We're possibly gonna die in a week and you are talking about never being on a date?” he chuckled, amused at your antics.

“Oh come on, I've never even been properly in love which is quite sad…I'm a romantic at heart, ok?”

Felix just burst out laughing and you managed to crack a small smile. This wasn't so bad after all. It was really nice to just let it all out and have someone comfort you. Felix was a really good person, you have deduced that much even after knowing him for barely twelve hours. If it counted for anything, you hoped he would end up winning - you knew he would help your family if they were in need.

***

The next morning, the both of you had woken up to the sun shining through the now drawn curtains. You yawned and looked around before you noticed what happened. You were laying on the carpeted floor next to Felix who was still asleep, softly snoring and a slightly amused Yoongi stood by the window. You blushed immediately at the compromising position you were in and were about to shake Felix and wake him but you didn't have to. A loud and cheery Flaverie burst through the door.

“Rise and shine my lovely tributes. Don't wanna be la-” she halted as she took in the scene in front of her. “Aaaah, how cute,” she beamed at you guys.

Felix was slowly coming to his senses, the drowsiness escaping him as soon as he realized what happened. Red stained his cheeks as the escort continued her rant about how adorable the two of you were.

“Right, get up you lovebugs,” Yoongi groaned, pulling the protesting woman out of the room and slamming the door shut.

You immediately looked away, utterly embarrassed at the whole situation.

“So, how did you sleep?” Felix teased except it came out as more of a rasp since his morning voice was even deeper than normal (imagine: wakey wakey). “Oh shut up,” you grumbled, still not looking at him.

“Turn around,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Nope,” you argued but were cut short as Felix scooped you up bridal style and headed to the door with a smirk.

“What the fu-” you spluttered but couldn't even finish your sentence as you took in his appearance. His bedhead looked absolutely adorable and made you momentarily forget he was carrying you to the breakfast carriage where all the people were gathered.

After overcoming that little brainfart you had, you quickly jumped out of his arms. He pouted at that but didn't make an effort to grab you again. You got to the table and sat down, purposely avoiding the eyes of two certain people.

***

After breakfast, the three of you continued from where you left off the day before.

“Sponsorships,” Yoongi repeated for the n-th time. “It sounds stupid but it's basically your best chance at survival. If you want to be sent the stuff you need in dire times, you're going to have to work for it.”

You and Felix both nodded, recognizing the importance of getting the people on your side.

“You have to suck up to them, please them, and make yourself memorable. If the people will root for you, you will have done about half the work.”

During the session, Flaverie popped in every once in a while to order some poor Avox to refill your drinks and make sure you had everything needed. Thank god nobody mentioned the incident from the morning.

“During training, focus also on some survival skills. Go over the plants, how to make shelters and fires etc. And when it comes to battle, try out some hand-to-hand combat, that shouldn't be a problem for you Felix, and some basic knife skills. Don't bother with any other weapons - you are more likely to come across some sort of knife or blade than a sword or ax.”

You leaned further into the fluffy couch, hoping to hide in the overly cozy blanket and never come out. You were too busy pitying yourself and Felix, you almost forgot that you had to train amongst all those kids tomorrow, some of them being literal killing machines.

“I would also suggest not to reveal all your skills. Show them that you aren't completely worthless but don't try to draw attention to yourself.”

You had to stop the groan that almost came out of your mouth. What Yoongi said could apply to Felix but you on the other hand had nothing to offer. You bleakly pursed your lips into a thin line and tried to not think about the assessment. This was going to be a ride.

***

It was around noon that you guys arrived at the Capitol. The both of you gawked at the grandness (if that's even a proper word) of the city. You hated to admit it but the scenery was truly breathtaking. The beautiful mountains peaked from behind the skyscrapers and ran around the city, almost as if shielding it from the districts. You scoffed at that, the Capitol people being so prissy they had to have a barrier around them, likely not wanting to have anything to do with the poorer parts of the nation.

You could see people on the platform fighting to get in front to catch a glimpse of some of the tributes. You snorted, what a bunch of cunts. To your right, Felix waved to the frenzied crowd and flashed a smile.

“What the hell are you doing?” you poked him in the ribs. You would never take him to be the one sucking up to them.

“Who knows?” he shrugged. “One of them may be rich.”

You let out a boisterous laugh, mentally agreeing with him. If you wanted to make it, you would have to swallow your pride and humor them.

You departed the train to a loud cheer from the Capitol citizens and were ushered to a sleek black van. It was going to take you to the quarters. There you were gonna be prepped for the chariot ride which you ultimately dreaded.

***

“Come on Y/n, let me finish this,” one of your stylists, Hortencia or something, ripped off yet another wax strip on your calf. You let out a loud scream - it hurt like a bitch. You would have thought that they would have some fancy laser technology or something to remove the hair but that wasn't the case. They used many more of the strips until they managed to remove all the hair on your body other than your hair and eyebrows of course. After that, they hushed your still naked form into the bathtub full of bubbles and proceed to wash the entirety of your body (hair too) before drying you off and smearing you in some body lotion. By the end of it, you smelled like you were marinated in some flower-scented perfume. (botanical garden™)

They put you into a silk bathrobe and sat you down in front of a vanity with a monstrous mirror lined with small lights. Hortencia worked on your face, applying various creams and serums while Lavender tried to presentably manicure your hands.

“I swear to god, teenagers these days,” she complained, “you've basically got no nails.”

You were really pissed off but were too tired to argue with her. It wasn't your fault you feared for your life and bit off your nails on the train because of the stress.

After she managed to do your poor excuse of nails into a somewhat acceptable manicure, she got up to consult your outfit with the third stylist, Alphonse.

“Look, I talked to the stylists of the boy and we agreed to do a more land-inspired natural look. It will go well with the theme of the district,” he added, pointing to one of the dresses. After what seemed like ages, she finally agreed under the circumstance that she would get to do your hair.

They shimmied you into your simple, yet beautiful dress, arranged all the necessary accessories and put you in front of the full-body mirror.

You gasped at your own reflection, barely recognizing yourself. You were dressed in a beautiful lengthy dress with a loose beige bodice and an emerald green skirt. They had applied lightly accented makeup that made your eyes pop and curled your hair into supple waves that sat under an emerald green beret. At first, you weren't sure how this exactly represented your district but didn't find yourself minding. You slipped on the laced sandals that Alphonso handed you, feeling grateful you didn't have to wear heels.

This was definitely an upgrade you thought. You remembered how the previous tributes from your district were dressed. It was always something covered with grains or wheat stems as the stylists didn't exactly understand that the costumes didn't have to be literally the product of your districts. The whole outfit was pleasing to the eye, and you deduced that it still managed to hint at the production of grain which was the main source district nine offered to the Capitol.

After a few minutes, they pushed you out of the dressing room where a stoic Yoongi awaited. He looked at you from head to toe before nodding, a slight smile appearing on his face. 

“You look good,” he nodded and you thanked him gratefully. It took a while but soon after, Felix appeared from the dressing room neighboring yours. You had to control yourself so you wouldn't stare, he looked ethereal.

They dyed his hair a shimmering silver and trimmed it into a minimalist mullet. His eyes shined, with deep green eyeshadow giving them more depth. He wore a pair of beige woolen flowy pants that resembled slacks (but had a more chill vibe to them) and had an oversized green silk button-down that was partially tucked inside his pants at the front. The top few buttons were left undone revealing some of his smooth creamy chest. He had a single hoop earring in one of his ears and wore a thin chain around his neck.

But it looked like you weren't the only one trying not to stare. Felix looked just as shocked as you, as he took your whole appearance in.

“Wow…you look really pretty,” he commented, looking away slightly embarrassed. “You don't look that bad yourself,” you teased.

That made you look at the brighter side of things. Practically speaking, there weren't many things to be excited about so you had to cherish every moment. It was nice to feel beautiful for once so you just tried to think about that.

Yoongi ushered the both of you towards your awaiting chariot. Felix extended his arm and you gladly entwined it with yours. “Let's go,” he motioned to the carriage. You silently followed him, the nerves already getting to you.

He hopped on first, grabbing you by your waist, and literally threw you onboard the chariot.

“Felix!” you whisper-shouted at him, “I can walk up some steps on my own, thank you very much.”

He just laughed in reply at your cute wannabe-angry stunt and linked your hands yet again. 

When the chariot finally emerged, the both of you plastered your best smiles and waved at all the people cheering you on. Your mouth started to ache by the time you finally arrived at the podium where the president would have his speech.

Finally, you thought. Your eyes honestly ached from all those people with overly colorful hairstyles and eccentric mismatched clothing. The citizens of the Capitol were filthy rich, couldn't they afford some actually nice clothes? They just looked like a bunch of clowns to you.

You could hear the anthem roaring through the speakers, and battled plugging your ears. You were surprised you could still hear anything when the anthem subsided and president Snow took his place behind the stand.

“Welcome to the Capitol! In a mere four days, you will be in the arena, fulfilling the tradition that has been here for decades, and competing in the Hunger Games. Every year, a boy and girl from each district are chosen to represent their homeland in an honoring fight for victory. Let this be a reminder, that the Capitol rules over Panem with an iron fist and will not permit any rebellion. And as always, may the odds ever be in your favor!”

A cheerful applause could be heard as the people in the stands shouted in support. You felt your stomach clench. This was disgusting. How dare he say it was an honor to be here. How dare he say it was an honor for you children to kill or be killed by other children and broadcast it on national television. 

During the speech, you felt eyes boring into you but you couldn't exactly pinpoint the owner of those eyes. You looked around frantically, the gaze making you uncomfortable when Felix nudged you slightly in the ribs. 

“Look over there,” he discretely pointed in the direction of the other chariots, “see that one that looks like a warrior?”

You nodded intently, immediately spotting the handsome boy who looked like some sort of god of war. He wore cuffed pants with combat boots and a sleeveless top with a string detail at the front which was neatly tucked at his waist. Over that he had a simple black and silver harness that tightened around the material of his shirt and made the outline of his toned abdomen visible. His dark brown hair was messily styled into a parted updo, revealing his forehead and a fake scar down his eye. A furry coat was thrown over his shoulders, making you wonder how he wasn't sweating already, it was scorching hot. The holster around hi waist held a few sharp daggers.

“He has been staring at you for the last ten minutes,” he whispers. You cower in your spot behind your district mate, not liking that some career has already noticed you.

“I'm pretty sure he's from district two,” Felix mumbles in your ear, “the one voted most likely to win this year.”

A shiver ran down your spine. 

Chris.

The tribute your escort couldn't get enough of. The one everybody was betting on this year.

And for some reason he was staring right at you, appreciatively glancing at you from head to toe like you were a piece of meat. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid, a career somehow separating you from the rest of the nameless tributes. This was, well...bizarre to say the least. 

He smirked at your clearly flustered state, sending you a wink before finally turning around and facing the podium.

From next to you, Felix visibly frowned, not happy that one of the careers has pinpointed you among all the others.

This was going to be hard…

read chapter 2 >>

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 4

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 4.7k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity ; awkwardness

previous - next

The issue is that Jungkook -and you're not a bitch for thinking that- is a little bit of an idiot.

He can be very smart. He can be wise and present unsuspecting resources and knowledge. He can teach you things you don't know anything about, figure out others you struggle to -but not during stressful times like for say an escape game because during those, he turns absolutely, utterly useless. 

But he is an idiot too. An idiot that sometimes shapes situations and conclusions and ideas in a very peculiar way that is very singular to him.

That’s precisely what happens then. He plays his role right, to its full extent, with great dedication and commitment. Except he missed a memo, misread the script and ends up playing a role that's not the one you planned for him. He believes that he’s your new adult toy provider (as if there is such a thing).

When you think he’s coming over to share a meal or play some game or binge-watch a series you promised to wait for him to experience together, he has a box hidden in his pocket or carried under his arm. 

He has the decency to not comment on it the first time around. He just set it down on the coffee table, between the bowl of chips and the one filled with guacamole. You see the logo on top of it. You recognize the design, reffined, minimalist with the pretty pastel matte colour. 

He probably identifies the shame and the annoyance on your face, painting your cheeks and reshaping your eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything. Simply smiles to himself and starts talking about the series’ new episode that’s about to start. 

It takes a lot of efforts, coming from you, to ignore the conspicuous object sitting just in front and in between you. But eventually, probably because more than a decade of friendship with this guy have grown impressive mind muscles on you, you manage to make abstraction of it. 

It just stops existing for a while until he leaves and you’re curious to see what’s inside. And again you have the same old intentions as before. The same ones.

You won’t use it. 

It’s curiosity. And it's fine for you to be curious because he’s the one buying it and gifting it to you. Why should you be blamed?

Freshly hopped in bed, just done reading the notice hanging over your face, you’re yawning and sending your eyebrows high in interest. Again you won’t use it but it sounds very interesting. That’s when you get a text from him.

Guk

So about the toy!

As if you were waiting for his explanation. As if the conversation got cut short and you were expecting him to pick it back up whenever possible.

You won’t entertain him.

You

I said not to buy me this.

Guk

You never said that! You said something about me being crazy but never about buying one again

Because you're mostly made of petty bitch material, you scroll higher quickly, wishing to find something, any text that would corroborate what you’re saying.

You don’t find anything though. Because you never actually told him to not buy you other toys by text, and now that you come to think of it, you probably never did out loud either because you didn’t fucking know that he would even consider doing so.

It’s not even Christmas anymore. It’s not your birthday. There’s even less of a valid reason for him to get you this therefore, of course, you did not explicitly warn him not to, you didn’t think it would be necessary.

You

It’s not even my fucking bday why???

Guk

I told you the lady at the shop

But who the hell is that lady?

Guk

She talked about a lot of products and they all seemed cool and because you liked the other one I thought I’d get you this one too

You

Jungkook

This simple response says a lot, you hope he can read between the pixels of his screen the desperation, the irritation, the frustration, the silent insults. 

Guk

Listen it’s super cool it's supposed to mimic the touch of a finger

Jungkook then proceeds to explain to you how it works. The original idea being a system with a tiny ball rolling under a silicon skin, to place on your clitoris to have the illusion of a finger's touch. And it’s interesting and innovative surely and sounds intriguing as in, you wonder if it’s accurate, but you’re tired and it seems like you’re wading in some sort of swamp you can’t escape from. There’s a fire burning your skin from your cheeks to your chest. You’re both hating this conversation and unwilling to just draw a final period to it. This asshole.

You

I can read

Guk

So you opened it already??

There’s a bunch of excited emojis that follows his last message and fill up the empty space your lack of response leaves. 

Why and how can he be so eager?

Here comes the delusional part of your brain. It’s a very wide, very deep hallway covered in bookshelves filled to the brim with stupid interpretations and beliefs and sometimes even memories you’ve shared with him. Often next to the laters are pinned an article from a teenage magazine or the jacket of a romance movie, specifically there to validate that yes, indeed, it must have meant something. 

The door of that corridor just creaked opened. You can discern the sound, you can feel the particular atmosphere without even having to take a step through. 

Is it really that normal to be so excited about that? For him? As a friend?

It’s the most frustrating part: you are friends. Friends who supposedly can tell each other everything. Friends who can ask each other anything. 

You should be able to talk about it. Just ask him. If there’s anything behind this whole mess, if he means to tell you something, if it’s wholly mindless, if there’s no hidden agenda.

It should be fine. There’s only trust and affection in this friendship. 

You are still too scared, you are terrified that he’d start linking dots, ask himself some new questions, potentially answer them himself, and have you all found out.

You'd have your barely well-worn cover thrown completely away. 

You send the blank emoji. The one with even the eyes closed. It summarizes your actual state pretty well, speechless, relatively annoyed. 

Guk

She said you could try it on other parts of your body too

Guk

At first

Guk

Like on your lips or your nipples

You want to die.

Now.

No, better, you wish to have never been born. 

Why is he talking about your nipples? Why?

And through all that, you still feel like something is wrong with you, along with your feelings. 

Turns out you are so overwhelmed by his clueless inadequacy, you need a good half an hour and a random shot of tequila to get through it. When it’s gone and exhaustion of a long day and alcohol have knocked nervousness and panic out, you fall asleep, forgetting about answering his outrageous last texts. 

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

Min's finger stops midair, above the cash register she's been working on. She needs a good minute to get back to her senses and while you wait, anxiety invades you. Maybe you should never have brought it up. 

But this question, the torturous thing is slowly killing you.

Min finally turns her head to you, eyes squinted and eyebrows drawn low. She sucks in her pretty red lips before opening them to start formulating, with it seems a certain struggle, an answer. 

“I don’t think I quite understand.”

It’s a pretty straightforward, relatively easy question. That’s what you'd want to say but you’ve reached the state of bashful regret and decide not to press it. Some things are better just left alone. 

“Who talked about your nipples?” She ends up asking the one thing you wished she wouldn’t because there is no way you’re giving his name. 

“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble, turning around slightly, getting back to the task you were here, paid, to do -wipe the shelves clean and not talk about your “““love””” life. 

“I think it does. You wanna know if it means something? Like the guy's into you?”

“Something like that.” Your cheeks are aflame now. No doubt about it. You silently curse at your manager who refuses that you don’t wear the ugly hat that holds your hair back because having a curtain of hair to hold behind, as a help to keep some of your remained, sparse dignity would have been peachy. 

“What did he say exactly?”

Silence. You’re not elaborating. She sighs, defeated. 

“Well, I suppose... he’s considered the fact that you have boobs. If it’s a straight guy, that’s a good sign, I guess?” She shrugs.

You don’t like the answer. It’s exactly what the wrong, defective part of your brain, the one directly wired to your heart, wanted to hear. 

She doesn’t even have the context, anyway. It doesn’t mean much, doesn’t hold much power in your court of sensibility. 

She stares at the side of your face, clearly attempting to drill holes in your head to try and find some answers. You’re awfully silent, have said too much yet not enough and she’s dying to know the whole story. You won’t give in and she can tell. There’s no way you’re sharing the whole thing. The most, probably, probative point of the whole story: the sex toys. It’d turn her into a devastating tsunami of nonsense and misinterpretation and drown you in its wake and you can’t, when you’re already struggling to stay afloat, allow that.

Tag list: @fangirls94 @realswimshaddy @safi4x @pnkd @somewhereinthestarss @kpopfandomftw @kai-kai-bookshelf @pasteljoonie @ggukkieland

A/N: Don’t forget to click on the next button on top, two parts are being posted simultaneously :)

[hotdamnhunnam]

His Time

A/N: Here’s some jealous Jax smut based on a steamy request that I got! I had thought this would be 99% smut, but there’s also angst/fluff, as I wanted to set the stage more and explore their love. (Fellow Jax sluts, fear not – the sex is still filthy and hot!)

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, reader as a risque performer, recent breakup, jealous Jax, intense makeup sex Request: Based on a scene from the movie Burlesque – Y/N is performing “Guy What Takes His Time” when Jax arrives with his friends; she doesn’t know he’s in the audience. Smut, jealous and a little fluff? – @rochyu (Note: I know that the movie is set in LA, but I wanted this fic to be set someplace farther from Charming, so I chose Chicago)

Word Count: ~2.9k

The lights are too bright. Always are, every night. You had come here to hide, from the girl you once were, with delusions of decency. Dignity. Pride. 

It all happened so recently. Weeks ago you were still in the same town where you’d lived all your life—that town equal parts charming and shitty—with dreams of becoming the king’s wedded wife, his beloved old lady.

Until you escaped to this faraway city. 

You will always remember that night. One last screaming fuck, after your first screaming match of a fight. How you’d managed to keep love afloat, for so long on the rocks, without killing each other, you don’t even know. But the issues that you had both smothered in silence eventually had to explode. You will always remember just how hard you tried, to heal wounds that would never recover, to stay by his side. With no luck. You had hit the road, that very night, and the girl you once were—the fiercely faithful lover, future wife and mother... had faded and died.

Standing here now, about to perform without shame for the same nameless crowd, you tell yourself that you love Chicago. There is only one thing that you honestly love, though: the king of Charming, the impossible dream of blonde hair and black leather. Jackson Fucking Teller. And now that you’ve left him, you’ve lost him forever. Already it feels like forever ago.

You prepare for the spotlight, all ready to put on a show. The same show. Ever since you left home, this is what your whole life has become. At random, you lock eyes with the goodlooking guy who plays drums; once the show is done, maybe you’ll take him backstage for a fuck. Just to take your mind off of Jax’s unforgettable cock. You shudder to think of how many skanks Jax must’ve banged since you left him alone in his kingdom—a hundred? A thousand and one...?

The answer is none, though you don’t know it yet. In the time since you left, Jackson has barely slept. He has been on a hunt, for the only queen he’ll ever want; you had left him no clue as to where you had gone...

But he’s hunted you down. Like a damn bloodhound, tracked you from miles away, and he’s here in the crowd, as you take to the stage and the song starts to play. Determined not to lose what he’s finally found.

The song tonight is “Guy What Takes His Time.” His time is now.

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

Fucking lights. They’re too bright.

He hates every damned inch of this place from the second he sets foot inside. Sources close to SAMCRO had advised this is where Jackson Teller’s old lady had run off to hide. And apparently sources were right.

How the hell did it come to this? Never in Jax’s life has he been so fucking pissed. He stands frozen in place between Opie and Chibs, the two Sons that he wanted to be by his side, as he crossed the whole country in search of the love that had vanished. The love of his life. Now that he has arrived, seeing you up on stage underneath these damn lights, he can’t handle the sight. The blood in his veins all at once turns to fire and ice.

Every gaze in this place is on you, as you come into view, barely wearing a thing as you start to sing under the spotlight. As if you have nothing to hide. As if every last inch of your skin was fashioned for the pleasure of strangers, to satisfy their prying eyes.

The sergeant-at-arms can’t believe what he sees, muttering quietly, looking over Jax’s shoulder where he’s standing close behind. No one thought this was what they would find. “Jesus Christ...”

“Do you mind? Look away,” the king snaps, quickly realizing that the men by his side deserve better. But the alpha male pride that he harbors inside feels about to collapse; in the moment, that’s all he could manage to say. “Listen, I—I can’t thank you enough that you both rode with me all this way, but it’s just... Jesus, everyone here’s looking up at her...”

Opie knows all too well just what Jax must be feeling tonight. Firsthand, he understands, just what it’s like to love a woman who is always on display for others. Lays a calm and steady palm on Jax’s shoulder, as the king shudders and smolders. “Sure thing, brother. We’ll wait up for you right outside.”

They step out, leaving Jax all alone in the crowd, where the lights are too bright and the music too loud. The whole room—no one more so than him—hanging on every word of the song, every line that feels so fucking wrong coming out of your mouth. The king’s entire world is crashing down on him tonight. Nothing has ever felt so wrong to him in his entire life of crime.

Oblivious to where he is, though on some level you can feel him, watching you from somewhere in the room... you tell yourself that can’t be right. It’s not the first truth you’ve denied. All through the night, lyrics fall from your brightly glossed lips like false promises, all meaning lost in the rhythm and rhyme.

I’d be satisfied... electrified... to know a guy what takes his time...

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

Once you’d wrapped up the performance, you had whispered to the dashing boy who plays the drums to meet you in your dressing room. Sitting here alone, you wonder what is taking him so long. The two of you were flirting up a storm throughout the song—surely there’s no way that he doesn’t plan to come...?

One thing’s for certain: you for one intend to come, before the night is done. After the curtains fell, you’d had to take a moment just to catch your breath and calm yourself. Recover from the random wave of heat you felt. For some unfathomable reason, you had sensed some sort of energy from somewhere in the room, thrumming intensely in a way that made you desperate for an orgasm.

You don’t know where it came from, have no clue how to explain... so you try to convince yourself, in vain, that it was pure sexual tension with the guy who played the drums. Any second now, he’s bound to come and dick you the fuck down.

When at last someone enters your dressing room, you leap excitedly out of your seat like a damn clown in heat.

Heartbeat racing as you turn around, full of more than just lust as it pounds... Jesus Christ—you’ve been found. Those were not the blue eyes you expected to meet.

Your breath escapes you in a gasp. “Jax...!” your big fat mouth blurts out the question that you shouldn’t have to ask. “How did you find—”

He cuts you off. And fuck—that voice of his you’d missed so much, laden with sex and cigarette smoke, hits you now all kinds of ravenous and rough, and it’s just honestly divine. Already has you soaked. “You know I always find what’s mine.”

It isn’t fair, the way the dim light glimmers off his golden hair. The way that Jax Teller just standing there completely blows your mind. You curse the hell he never fails to put you through. “I don’t belong to...”

Cuts you off again. Because he can. “Does he fuck you like I do?”

Did he honestly just ask you that? Of course he did. The stupid piece of shit. Even if you had been with anybody else, no man on earth could ever fuck you half as well, and you both know it’s fucking true. “What? Who?”

Jax takes a deep drag of his cigarette. Shaking his head, like he’s disgusted. As if he has any right to be. “That many? Now you can’t even keep count? I guess you like slutting around, this brand new fucking freedom that you’ve found?”

He can’t be serious? He can’t really be here at all, ruining you like this? You cross the room toward the farthest wall, hoping that he won’t see the tears that fall, the way you fear your self-respect and self-resolve are crashing down.

“How many. Tell me,” he demands. “What—you thought running off to some other city, you could just flirt your way into some other man’s pants, right up on stage flaunting your slutty ass in front of everybody, and I wouldn’t see?”

Well, shit—apparently he’s serious. But so are you. If he came here to play dirty, then that’s a game for two. And you’ll defend your dignity if it’s the last damn thing you do. “That’s not your business.”

Jax has now crossed the room toward you after putting out his cigarette; he grabs a firm hold of your wrist, his grip somehow soft yet insistent. “Like hell it isn’t.”

“Jackson, I am not your goddamn possession,” you tell him, wrenching yourself free from his fist, almost wishing that you’d fucked somebody if only to teach him a lesson. Almost. Tonight you had come awfully close. “Get your hands off me. You can’t—can’t just come here and claim me as if I’m a piece of lost property.”

The sound of that is more than he can stand; he slams you up against the wall, hard. Has you seeing fucking stars. Frames your face in his hands, as his gaze pierces straight to your heart. “You think that’s what you are to me? Honestly?”

“I don’t know what I am!” you scream back at him, matching his roar, your own voice raw and hoarse. “Who I am... I just... Jax, I don’t know—I don’t know a damn thing anymore.”

“Let me remind you, then. So you don’t ever forget again.” His mouth is fire as it suddenly descends, claiming your lips with more dominance and desire than you’ve ever felt before. There was no point ever pretending this was war. The fire that burns between the both of you is love and nothing more—so bright it strikes you blind, so dirty that it’s pure. “You’re fucking mine. And I am yours.”

Not long ago today, you had felt sure that ever since you ran away, Jax must have fucked a hundred thousand other whores.

Now this... from just one kiss, you know the opposite is true. You’ve never felt more sure that Jackson Fucking Teller only ever wanted you.

He tells you nonetheless, because words matter. Even though the way he shows it is a million times better. “Y/N. I can’t stand ever losing you again. When you were gone, nothing made sense,” he murmurs as you melt into his hands, the only thing holding your heart together as it shatters. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I want to spend my whole life trying to. You’re more than just my girl. You are my whole entire fucking world.”

His words are giving you a goddamn heart attack. “Jax...”

“Christ, I’m so sorry. Anything I ever did, to push you far from me... all the shit I said—that fucking fight...” he shudders at the thought of it, hands cradling your face so close and tight. “But baby, please—can you be mine, just for tonight? I know I have no right to take you back. No fucking right. But damn I tried...”

You cannot handle just how much he hates himself. You feel his pain just as you always do, slaying you through and through; it hurts like fucking hell. It kills. The most that you can do is love him till he feels that he deserves it, just to hope someday he will. 

“Jax, stop,” you beg him as he stifles back a sob. “Don’t even... God, do you have any fucking clue how much I love you? I have never wanted anybody else. I ran away because the pain became too much to take—but babe, my heart is always yours to break. I was just... stupid and scared, and thought that I didn’t belong there. But if you’ll take me—if you want me, love me, honestly... then I promise you, baby: I’m not going anywhere.”

He’s breathing ragged, shaky sighs and gasps. His forehead pressed to yours, beaded with sweat, cheeks red and wet with all the tears you both have shed. “You mean that?”

Ugh, as if he has to ask. But then of course he does. He’s always doubted that he’s worthy of your love... but thankfully, Jax Teller never doubted whether he is worthy of your lust. You rake your fingers through the smooth strands of his hair, meeting his deep blue stare, then drop one hand to wrap your arm around his back. “Yes. I do. I love you, and I want you—only ever you. Don’t ever doubt it’s true. Now just shut up and fuck me, Jax.”

He doesn’t need anything more than that. Now that you’ve said the word, the animal inside of him attacks. The way this sweet angelic savage sex god of a man can go from soft to rough, in just a fraction of a second, is just... damn. One of the million things you’ll always love about him.

Jax lifts you off the wall and slams you down over the table as your moans resound throughout the room. “This how you want it? Hard and fast?”

“Fuck, yes...!” you gasp.

“Mmm, thought you like a man who takes his time...?” he teases, ripping at your slutty little outfit till it’s torn to shreds. Until he has you naked, dripping wet and aching for him, just the way he pleases. The savage darkness in his eyes should be a crime.

You wish you could sass back at him for being a smug son of a bitch, making you eat your own burlesque lyrics. But then he reaches down to grab one of your tits and fucking squeezes, and your brain is blown to bits. “Oh, shit—Jesus...”

“That ain’t my name, you little slut,” he scolds you as he strips out of his kutte.

“Jax...” you watch as he flings off his flannel, reaches for his belt, taking his time with the damn buckle. From the bulge in his crotch, you can tell that he’s already hard as a rock. “Fuck...”

“Bet you’ve been spending every day without me dreaming of this big hard fucking cock.”

You nod, too turned on to respond. Of fucking course.

“Then say it, whore.”

You force yourself to form the words. “I’ve never wanted any cock but yours. You own me, sir.”

“That’s better,” he mutters, reaching down to flip you over. With your tits pressed against the surface underneath, he spanks your ass so hard you bite your tongue and grind your teeth. Then he dips two of his fingers into your core, feeling your soaking wet heat. “Now, baby, I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll always remember. This tight little pussy exists for my pleasure.”

In actions and words, you completely surrender to Jax Fucking Teller. “Yes, sir!”

“Mmm, is that what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the head of his cock against your swollen, slick pussy lips with a fierce, feral grunt. “Dirty slut. Want me to fucking destroy your cunt?”

You have now lost the power to respond. But he won’t fuck you till you do. Even when it’s so obviously true.

Jax pulls your hair back, deals your ass another smack. “Who do you belong to? Better answer if you want this dick, you filthy little bitch.”

“I belong to you, sir!”

“That’s a good whore. Now what do you want me to do to this dripping wet pussy of yours?”

“Oh God, I want you to destroy it, sir! I want your cock inside me, please, I’ve never wanted anything more...”

“That’s right. I fucking own you, and I’m gonna show you how,” he growls, and seems to mean it as sincerely as a goddamn wedding vow. “You want a ‘guy what takes his time’ and all that shit... well, slut, it’s my fucking time now.”

Hell yes it fucking is. Jax fucks you like nobody’s business, rough and fast and hardcore, and you hope that he made sure to lock the door when he walked in because you’re screaming like a whore. It’s not like it’s a problem, if your boss and all your coworkers can hear what’s happening in your dressing room; after tonight, you most definitely won’t be needing this job anymore. You’ll be on the back of Jax Teller’s bike, holding him tight, as the two of you ride toward the rest of your life. Toward your future. Together.

You don’t know it yet, but Jax wants to make damn sure, this time, that you’ll stay by his side forever. Once he’s finally done fucking you dead, straight up ripping your pussy apart, like you wanted, he glances over toward the kutte that he’d thrown on the floor. Eyes the pocket that rests on his chest, right above his heart... and softly smiles at the thought, the hope, of claiming his most precious treasure. The diamond shines so bright that he could swear he sees the light, right through the leather.

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

Hope you enjoyed this!! Would love to hear if you did 🤗❤️

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[writersrealmbts]

Sinkable Ships

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo​! For the Kim Taehyung Square. Humans are beautiful and strange and completely off-limits. But beautiful things are meant to survive, and he was the most beautiful human you had ever seen. 

Warnings: n/a (that I know of, I will add any necessary)

Posted: 07/17/2021

Tags: Taehyung x reader, merfolk au, mer!reader, human!Taehyung

Fluff I think: 4,580 words

A/N: I’ve been trying to post this for five days. 20th time’s the charm? It’s not my best work but I hope you guys enjoy.

He was gorgeous.

And off limits.

He had beautiful honey skin.

But he couldn’t see you.

He looked too perfect to be real.

But once he awoke…

You gasped as his eyes snapped open, quickly flopping off the rock and back into the ocean, swimming down deep and peering up at the rock, still curious but not wanting to risk it.

You were surprised when he dove into the water, looking around for you.

But you’d had time to blend in.

After a moment he swam back to the surface, slowly climbing out. Struggling to get out.

You sent a wave to boost him out, biting your lip until he had disappeared onto the rock. Still, safe on the rock wasn’t safe from dehydration or hunger or the sun.

You would give him time to rest, then drive him toward the island. It would be dangerous but you’d see him safely there.

And no one would ever be the wiser.

The hard part would be doing it without him seeing you.

You swam some distance away, hiding behind another rock so you could surface and peer at him.

He was still peering into the water. “Are you still here? I’m Taehyung. I won’t hurt you.”

You leaned against the sun-warmed rock as you listened to the deep timbre of his voice.

“Thank you for saving me…but I wish you’d let me thank you face to face. It’s…,” He paused and looked around, looking troubled, “It’s scary here. All alone. I promise I won’t tell anyone about you.”

Promises were made to be broken, your brain whispered.

But he’s scared, your heart whispered.

“I should probably rest, huh?” He murmured, curling up slightly. He was already drying off again, which was good if you were correct in your knowledge of humans.

“Is there land nearby? What if another storm comes?” Taehyung (you liked that) asked, looking to the sky. “What if I get sun poisoning?”

Oh.

Oh no.

Why was keeping a human healthy so difficult?

You had to decide. Save him, or leave him to die.

But then…you’d already made your choice.

It’d be a shame for such a pretty human to die.

Maybe you could get away with it without him seeing you, still.

You willed the waves to lap higher at the rock, on all sides, hoping he would notice it wasn’t natural.

He froze, eyes wide. “Oh…okay…you’re still here?”

You sent waves away from the rock.

“Right. Okay. What do you want me to do?” His expression brightened.

You made a slight whirlpool on the side of the rock he needed to get down in, hoping. All you could do was hope.

He hesitated. “You…want me to get back in the water?”

You made it swirl in the opposite direct. Come on, human. You were already breaking about a dozen rules.

He slowly, shakily, started getting in the water. “O-okay. I’m trusting you.”

You kept him afloat, sinking under the water to direct him. You would have to be quick.

A race. With yourself and the sun.

The finish line, the island.

You got him there with just a few hours left until the sun set beyond the horizon.

He swam the last stretch, rushing up on shore and just feeling the sand.

Then he stood up and turned, searching the waves.

“Are you still here?” He asked, calling over the waves.

You knew you shouldn’t answer.

But the look on his face. In his eyes.

You made a wave wash up to his ankles and stay there longer than a wave normally would.

He relaxed and smiled again. “Oh good. I’m not good at being alone. Will you come check on me? I’ll be okay if I know someone is here with me.”

You held your breath and slowly let it out. You could check on him. It wouldn’t be hard. Just let him see something abnormal in the waters and he would know he wasn’t alone. Humans needed companionship. And it wouldn’t be unpleasant to check on him. You would get to keep hearing his voice, seeing his smile….

You sent a seashell up to him, a pretty one from your stash, and a fish for him to eat.

He picked up the seashell but looked uncertainly at the flopping fish. “I…I don’t think I can kill it….”

Who knew humans were that cute and innocent?

You collected the fish again to prepare it for him.

He waited a moment, then turned toward the island, looking it over. “So, I should follow that stream of water to its source, right? Will you follow me? Or must you stay in the ocean?”

Did he expect an answer? How would you even answer that? Technically, you could follow him. You’d gone upstream quite a few times and at one point there was a nice lagoon and you kept some of your favorite treasures hidden there. And you hid there when the menfolk went by. They were not nice.

You did have some treasures you wanted to deposit, so you carefully followed, trying to stay unseen by blending in. You were good at blending in, one of the best in your former colony.

He made good time in reaching the lagoon, and then went further in where you didn’t dare follow to see the source of the water.

He came back shortly, drinking water from the shell. “Alright, water is good. Now shelter.”

You prepared the fish for him, absently watching as he did his best to make himself a shelter in the shade of the trees. You had a feeling he wasn’t entirely certain what he was doing, but you were sure he would figure it out.

He stood back to examine his work. “Well, it should keep the rain off of me, hopefully. Do you have to worry about rain?”

You shook your head, the only thing you did during rain was hide in the deep if the surface was particularly rough. You remembered some wild adventures in your youth that you deeply regretted.

“Do you have to worry about hurricanes and waterspouts?”

Yes. Yes you did.

“Or tidal waves?”

You shuddered. It was always mass exodus with those. Anyone could be washed in and killed. Mostly, your kind avoided the areas that seemed to have them most.

“Has the rise of the ocean affected you?”

You paused. The ocean was rising?

“Or do you have different issues due to the die-off of coral reefs? Like, the Great Barrier Reef?”

You considered it for a moment before sort of nodding. It had caused issues, but it wasn’t something that would kill your kind, not as much as—

“What about destructive fishing techniques and overfishing? Having fishers stir up the bottom of the ocean must be dangerous, and I bet it’s cut your food supply.”

You smiled a bit, then sent his fish up to him.

He stared at the fish, carefully floating in the water, and gingerly took it. “Thank you.”

You wished you could tell him about the old magic that was used to help coral reefs. About the secret colonies of fish that your people herded for safe-keeping. About the secret islands that your kind kept hidden from the world. How some of your kind used to live in icebergs until this big old ship crashed into a colony, and the resulting mess had traumatized the little ones.

You wanted to tell him.

“Can I eat this raw?” He asked, but it was quiet, like he was asking himself.

You sighed, holding your hand out and focusing on the fish, using your abilities to heat the flesh until it was cooked.

“Oh!” He stared down at it. “Um…thank you.”

You nodded curtly and then dove into your treasure room. Maybe there was something there that he could use. You glanced over your collection of tiny items that could be held in your hand easily. Small bits like coins, shiny stones, pretty shells, glimmering jewels, rings, pendants from necklaces or something called a key-chain, tiny toys that you didn’t know could be that small, and some carvings—some crude, your own work, and others magnificent, the work of your father. Your gaze landed on a small device that your father showed you, the one that could make fire.

Perfect.

You put it in your pouch, setting a fossil in its place.

Then you turned to your collection of larger items. You immediately grabbed one of the knives, and you thought he might be able to use the container with a handle that did not leak so you grabbed that as well.

There were...various articles of clothing such as the humans tended to wear. Some you could perceive as feminine, having such shape as would show the differences in body structure between the genders of humans. But you found some things that might help, like the fake fins, and the strange face-covering that you saw humans using now and then when they were underwater. Then you grabbed a covering that appeared as though it might fit him and bundled everything else inside of it.

You surfaced behind your rock, pinpointing him on the beach and directing the bundle to the shore.

He spotted it as he was licking his fingers clean. “Huh?”

You bit your lip as you watched him get up, and fish the bundle out of the water. Watched him unwrap it.

His eyes were wide as he examined the contents. He picked up the fire-maker and tested it.

It took a couple tries, but a tiny flame finally sparked up.

He quickly started making himself a fire, murmuring to himself.

Soon he had a nice blaze going, humming to himself as he gathered more to burn later.

“You’re a life-saver,” he said, looking out into the water. “Really. Thank you so much. I don’t know why you’re helping me, but thank you.”

He looked at the bundle. “And while I’m curious about where and how you got this stuff…don’t tell me. My imagination is creative enough. Or if you do tell me, lie. Tell me something nice, like you were trying to return them but didn’t know how without revealing your existence.”

But that was the truth?

Humans were pretty clumsy with their belongings. They were always dropping things and sinking ships. Your kind were usually the first to investigate the sunken ships, like the large one that hit the icebergs. But most of your kind left things alone. Checked things out, maybe took a small momento, and then left the vicinity. Especially now that humans kept venturing into the deep.

“I bet your kind got pretty mad when humans started killing whales. Maybe not so much the killer whales, but blue whales and humpback whales.”

“All whales,” You whispered, picking at a mussel that was firmly attached to the rock you were hiding behind.

“Do killer whales try to eat you?”

Only our young.

“How do you deal with sharks?”

With spears of sharp coral, but only when necessary.

“What do you eat? I mean, I’m assuming you eat some fish since you prepared this fish for me, but can you talk to fish? How does that work?”

“Fish are stupid,” You answered, rolling your eyes.

“Oh….”

You froze, breath catching in your throat. That was loud. What you said was very loud.

You slowly sunk beneath the surface of the water, camouflaging with the seaweed in the hopes he didn’t see you.

“You have a pretty voice,” Taehyung called out softly. “I’m happy to know I’m not just imagining I’m alone. I mean, you could still be a hallucination, or a dream. But….”

Would it really be so bad? As far as you knew, he was trapped here for now. Until you could get him out of there. And there would be very few humans who believed him even if he did tell people about you.

You slowly surface, just letting your eyes above the surface of the water and watching him.

He was looking toward the sunset, a sad look in his eyes.

You headed for the shore to practice a very ancient form of magic that your selkie cousins had taught you.

Having legs was annoying and you were clumsy at the best of times, but you’d do anything if he would stop looking so sad.

He seemed to sense you more than hear or see you, turning toward you quickly--as though about to face a predator.

Then his eyes became huge, and his mouth hung open slightly.

“Oh….”

You leaned against a tree, biting your lip uncertainly. Maybe you should go back in the water.

You should go back in the water.

“No! Wait!” Taehyung’s voice was desperate as you stumbled forward. “Please! Just...sit with me?”

You wobbled near the water’s edge.

He hurried forward and caught you as you fell, pulling you away from the water, but looked away, his face oddly tinged. “You...you’re naked.”

You tilted your head. “Naked?”

He nodded, not looking at you. “Not...clothed.”

“Oh. Coverings. Yes. Right. Water.”

He looked conflicted.

You shifted. “I’ll come back.”

Slowly he helped you to the water, and let go of you.

You let yourself fall into the water, shifting back and diving to the cave, grabbing one of the coverings that you had tried on once before.

You put it mostly on and then swam back to the shore, pulling yourself onto the dry land, focusing on shifting as before.

“Cool,” He whispered, then sort of smiled at you. “You just...had a dress down there?”

You shrugged.

He moved closer to the fire, making an odd gesture that appeared to be inviting you over as well.

You sort of fumbled and ended up on hands and knees (gangly knees, gangly limbs, why were limbs so strange?), using your arms to bring you over more than anything.

“So...you’re a mer-person?”

“Atlantian,” You replied, frowning. “What’s a mer-person?”

“Uh...it’s a human name for your...kind.”

“Huh,” You replied, thinking about it a bit.

“Atlantian? So...you’re from Atlantica?”

“Huh? Atlantis. Our capital is Atlantis,” You shrugged, tucking your strange limbs away from the flames. You’d felt fire before. You’d also seen the effects of heat on one of your school friends who’d touched lava. Lava beds were wonderfully warm but also dangerous.

“No one would believe me, you know. If I tried to say anything about you. There are very few people who would believe me and I’d be written off as crazy. But I have so many questions! The whales?”

“We get mad about all of them being killed,” You answered. “But regular fish are stupid and thus worth eating. Killer whales do try to eat our young, but we’ve got some pretty solid defenses so it’s more rare nowadays. Humans are clumsy and drop things quite often and they’re always sinking their ships. Like this really big one that hit one of our icebergs, it caused the little ones lots of trauma, though we had minimal casualties. At least, that’s what I was told. We deal with sharks with spears most of the time: sharp, coral spears.”

“Wait...how long ago was the iceberg thing?”

You shrugged. “My great-grandsire’s time.”

“The...Titanic?” He asked, eyes huge.

You nodded. “Sounds right. My PaPa showed it to me when I was just a guppy.”

“But you guys didn’t like...do anything to cause it?”

“What? No.” You flicked your fingers in disgust, then stared at your hand. No webbing. Weird.

“Ok.” But he seemed troubled. “Did...did you guys help?”

You looked at the flames. “The water was so cold that by the time our folk had figured out what was happening, and helped our own…humans are more sensitive to cold. All we could do was try to discreetly direct those floating to the ships. My great-grandmother told me it was a thing to mourn just as the humans would mourn it. A battlefield without the fight. I apologize for being insensitive to that mourning.”

He shook his head. “It...it didn’t really...affect me. My family. But...it’s a famous tragedy.”

You respected his distraction with silence. It was the polite thing to do.

“And the things...the things you have? You found them?”

“Yup. No bodies,” You reassured. “At least...not for the items I collected myself. Which is all of the things you’ve seen.”

He nodded, looking relieved. “Where is this island?”

“Mmmm, in relation to…?”

“Um...the mainland?”

“Which one?”

He groaned. “Uh...Korea. Do you know where Korea is?”

You tried to think back to geography. “I think so.”

“Where are we in relation to that?”

“Five days swim? If I’m remembering correctly?” You offered him a weak smile. “I’ll try to direct a ship your way. If possible.”

“You live here?”

You nodded. “I...don’t really fit in. So I stay here. It’s secluded. Safe. And I get visitors. And it’s a really good kelp-farm.”

“You farm kelp?”

“Of course. Kelp is a very good source of long-term nutrition.” You played with the ‘dress’. It appeared more effeminate, not that you cared. “So...do you like to wear dresses?”

“Uh...I don’t exactly...uh….”

You tilted your head curiously.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t wear them regularly. Or at all, really.”

“Oh. Okay. But are the other clothes hindering? These legs are quite annoying.”

“What do you wear in the water?”

You tilted your head. “Scales?”

“But...do you hide your...privates?”

You blinked again. “Humans ask very strange questions.”

“Sorry.”

“Why do you wear coverings?”

“Because...because we don’t have scales to protect us.” He seemed to be very tinged again.

“Why do you ask such questions if they upset you so?”

He couldn’t look at you again, despite you wearing the coverings that humans found so necessary.

“Is it physical attraction?”

He groaned. “Let’s go swimming.”

“You’ll get cold,” You objected. “You don’t have scales.”

“But...ugh.”

“You appear flustered again. Have I talked upon a sensitive topic once more?”

“No...just...an embarrassing one?”

“Ah. Procreation?” You guessed.

He shuddered. “Please change the topic.”

You laughed a bit and pressed your strange feet into the sand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you back to your people.”

“You’ve already said you’re going to help me return. If possible. And you saved my life. I kind of owe you.” He let a handful of sand slip through his fingers. “And, on top of that, you’re sitting here on the shore with me. Wearing a dress.”

“Is wearing a dress that odd? I could change coverings?”

“No!” He turned toward you again, but quickly looked away again. “Um, it, um, it looks good on you.”

“Procreation,” you whispered to tease him.

He shoved your shoulder, rolling his eyes and skin tinging all the way down his neck this time.

You hit the sand, laughing at his reaction.

“That kind of thing doesn’t faze you at all, does it?” He asked.

You shrugged. “I mean, I grew up herding fish. They don’t really procreate in private.”

“You used to herd fish?”

“My father has quite the business. Or. He did. My mother keeps it going as best she can now, but she moved to specialty species to keep afloat.”

“Do you have currency?”

“There are many currents in the sea?” You replied slowly, confused.

“No, like, when someone takes one of the fish you raise, what do they give you in return?”

You shrugged. “Tools, food, work, or valuable pretties. Generally tools, food or work. My mother is fairly strict.”

“Okay, what’s the strangest thing your family has traded?”

You considered, then shook your head. “Probably some shiny,” you lied.

He looked at you curiously. “Really?”

You fiddled with a part of the dress.

“So, the actual strangest was something…unpleasant?”

You shrugged. “It was a child.”

He froze. “A…child…?”

You nodded. “A human child.”

He just stared at you.

“The child fell into the water and was found by a very desperate Atlantian. He put it in an air-bubble and brought it to my father. My father traded with him and then took the child back to the surface world.”

“And then what?”

You shrugged. “No clue. My father never returned. My mother went looking, came back angry. Won’t mention my father except to curse him.”

“Do you know the child’s name?”

“Yoongi Min?” You tilted your head, trying to remember if that’s what everyone had called him. “I was just a guppy, so I’m not entirely certain.”

“I know a Yoongi,” he said softly. “Small world.”

You nodded. “Surprisingly small.”

“I know it might be risky, but do you think there’s a way to get me to my people without waiting for a ship?”

“You could hold onto me while I swim…”

He thought about it for a while, then nodded. “Then that’s what I’ll have to do.”

“Are you certain?” You asked, heart dropping a little.

“Yeah. But don’t worry. I’ll come back to visit. And I’ll get a home by the ocean so you can visit me, too.” He leaned over and let his head rest on your shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut. “I don’t lie, either. I keep my promises.”

“As one should,” you whispered.

He nodded.

You started humming a lullaby, hoping to spare him the pain of trying to fall asleep in a strange place.

“Pretty,” he murmured.

——

You admired his sleeping face one last time, kissing his forehead and then slipping back into the waters as figures appeared further down the beach. You watched from behind a rock as the people spotted Taehyung and raced to him.

Watched Taehyung wake up in a daze, looking around in confusion.

Watched Taehyung try to go into the water, fighting the people.

“I didn’t thank them! I didn’t get their name!” He yelled as they wrestled him back to shore. “I didn’t say goodbye!”

You didn’t dare acknowledge your presence. You didn’t dare reveal yourself.

It was best if all you were was a dream.

Yet, week after week, you returned to that spot on the shore. You returned in the night and you sang.

Month after month, you visited those waters and you wondered if he was okay.

And a year after you had returned him, there you were, watching the sunrise.

But you didn’t dare stay longer.

“Y/n,” a voice called behind you.

A familiar voice.

A Taehyung voice.

“Names have power with your people, and yours is y/n.”

You stood up slowly, keeping your back to him.

“You never said goodbye,” Taehyung whispered.

“How did you find my name?”

“I asked Yoongi. Funny how he didn’t think me crazy. Our other friends did. But…I think they believe me now.”

You felt horror course through your veins and slowly turned to him.

He had several other people with him, but they still looked skeptical.

“You…you said….” You took a step back.

“I kept my word. They’re not going to tell anyone. But I wanted my friends to meet.” He moved closer, holding out his hand. “You’re steadier on your feet than before.”

“I’ve been practicing.” You glanced down at your feet, then at the faces of his friends.

Yoongi slowly dipped his head to you, looking grave.

Taehyung’s hand gently guided your chin so you were facing him. “How could you not say goodbye?”

“It would have been better for you to forget me,” you whispered.

“But...you’re so alone….” He looked down at the ground. “You can see the human world. Haven’t you ever wanted to?”

“I...it’s...it’s dangerous,” You whispered, looking around at the others. “It’s very, very dangerous.”

“That’s true,” Yoongi said quietly, his voice deceptively deep, though not as deep as Taehyung’s. He moved forward, but stayed behind Taehyung, meeting your gaze softly. Apologetically.

Taehyung turned back to him. “But...we’d look out for her...how dangerous could it be?”

Yoongi looked toward the horizon. “Even a drop of water and y/n would turn back into an Atlantian. Condensation on a cup. A drop of rain. Water from a faucet. Anything could happen, and we couldn’t always guarantee that y/n’d be within ocean’s distance at any given moment.”

Taehyung looked gutted. “But...we could try.”

“What if,” One of the others started quietly, looking uncertain, “What if we tried it out? In this town. If we can manage it today, maybe we can plan careful excursions?”

“Please, y/n?” Taehyung immediately turned to you.

Yoongi gave you a look that seemed to say he’d help you escape if that’s what you wanted. If that’s what he owed you.

“There’s a carnival in town, y/n,” Taehyung said quietly. “It’ll be new and exciting. Don’t you want to see it?”

You studied the handsome face before you. “If I say at any moment, that I want to return to the ocean….”

“Then we’ll come straight here. And hopefully make a different plan for seeing one another again. I want to show you where we’re living, too. We just moved here, you see,” Taehyung said quietly, happily. “So...even if you don’t like town...maybe you could just visit our house.”

You slowly nodded. “Maybe.”

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Maybe don’t blend in with your surroundings while in human form.”

You gasped, checking yourself again.

“Let’s go with baby steps, Tae,” Yoongi continued. “Let’s try our house first, then maybe in a couple days try the carnival. At least at the house, we can easily deal with y/n transforming. At a carnival, I think there would be some panic.”

You nodded, thinking that sounded logical.

Taehyung nodded as well. “Okay! Okay, let’s go!”

“Uh, are you going to introduce us?” One of his friends asked, looking a little stressed.

“Oh. Right.” Taehyung glanced back at them, then stepped closer to you, offering his hand. “Don’t mind them too much. They’re great, but they’re also skeptical and can be annoying.”

“What you’re describing sounds similar to the description other guppies in my school would use for their siblings.”

“I’m sure it does. Guys, this is y/n, who saved my life about five times in the span of twenty-four hours. Y/n, these guys kept me alive after you brought me back.”

“Names, Tae. You’re supposed to say our names,” One of them pushed, rolling his eyes.

“Tide is coming in, maybe save the names for when we’re away from the water,” Yoongi grumbled, glaring at the water.

“Right!”

There were some groans of protest, and someone definitely said that Taehyung would forget by then--yet you felt the warmth and fondness between all of them.

You glanced back at the ocean as they led you ashore, acknowledging that the pull of the water wasn’t quite as strong as the pull of the man holding your hand to keep you steady. And maybe you would find out what really happened to your father while you were here.

Taehyung casually slid his arm around your waist to help you walk. “It isn’t far, don’t worry.”

You met his gaze and nodded. “I believe you.”

“It’s not going to be as grand as an Iceberg apartment building.”

You rolled your eyes.

“But I promise we’ll keep you safe. It wouldn’t be very considerate of me to have you save my life and then get you killed.”

“Let’s avoid that last bit,” Someone piped in.

Taehyung nodded. “I’ll protect you with my life, y/n. Promise.”

[lunar-jimin]

P A R T   1

p a i r i n g : taehyung x fem!reader

r a t i n g : pg-15

g e n r e : eventual friends to lovers, pregnancy!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

w o r d   c o u n t : 945

w a r n i n g s : lots of swearing, implied sexual content

s e r i e s   s u m m a r y : You didn’t mean to sleep with your best friend, and you certainly didn’t mean to get pregnant. 

a / n : Welcome to the second series I’m posting! This one will be posted bi-monthly, alternating with What a Heavenly Way to Die! I hope you enjoy, and if you do, maybe leave a little something in my inbox. 

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“Holy fucking shit!”

“I know.”

“Does he know?”

“Not yet.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Namjoon looks down at the pregnancy test in his hand and then back at you.

“You have to tell him.”

“I know.”

“When are you?”

“Jesus, Namjoon, I just found out I’m fucking pregnant with my best friend’s baby fucking give me a second to breathe, okay?”

“Sorry, it’s just…I mean…fuck.”

You hadn’t meant to sleep with Taehyung, much less conceive a child with him. All you wanted was some company on Valentine’s Day. You were alone and horny. And Taehyung looked really fucking sexy in that leather jacket, especially after you consumed an entire bottle of wine.

“I suppose the sooner, the better, yeah?” you sigh into your hands.

Namjoon overs you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“What’s the worse that can happen?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean sure he could get scared and never talk to you again-“

“Thanks, Joon,” you roll your eyes, “that makes me feel so much better.”

“All, I’m saying, is that Tae is a good guy. And he loves you, if only platonically. He’ll stick by you.”

“You better be right, otherwise I’m forcing you to raise this kid with me.”

After standing in front of Taehyung’s door for fifteen minutes without moving, you were on the verge of calling it a day and heading home to the comfort of you loving bed. Never in your life had you been so afraid to see your best friend’s face. Butterflies clawed at your stomach lining.

“You can do this,” you mutter under your breath, “you are a strong capable woman, and if he doesn’t want you or this baby-“

“Hello?”

Your pep talk is rudely interrupted by your best friend, standing in the threshold, looking awkwardly adorable in his stained sweatshirt and bed head.

“Holy shit, Tae, you can’t just scare me like that.”

“You’re the one who has been talking to themselves standing at my front door for a solid minute.”

“Whatever.”

You brush past him, marching into the living room and plopping down on his couch.

“Yes, please come in and make yourself at home.”

You roll your eyes.

“Whatever made you decide to grace yourself with my presence today?”

“Oh right, that,” you shift uncomfortably, “you might want to sit down for this.”

He frowns, “Why? Is everything okay? You aren’t dying are you?”

You chuckle, “No, I’m not dying, Tae.”

“Oh, thank god. You still owe me a new Switch controller. I still can’t believe you dropped in the toilet.”

“I was drunk Tae, leave me alone.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now tell me whatever this grand news is.”

“Right. Um. So you know how we kinda slept together that one time?”

“Yes. And I also distinctly remember the morning after when we agreed to never talk about it again.”

“Yeah. Well. That’s, that’s not really gonna be possible.”

“What do you mean? It’s pretty easy not to talk about something. You just don’t talk about it.”

“Um, well, I’m pregnant.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m pregnant. With your child.”

Tae fell back into the chair behind him, eyes wide.

“You-you’re pregnant? And it’s mine?”

You nod, heart pounding loud enough that you wouldn’t be surprised if Tae could hear it.

“You’re sure it’s mine?”

“You’re the only person I’ve slept with in the past three months, so unless I’m carrying the second-coming of Christ in me, then you’re going to be a dad in nine months.”

“Fuck.”

His shook his head.

“And you’re definitely keeping it?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

It was a question you had wrestled with ever since you had seen the little plus sign on the pregnancy test. On one hand, you were single living in a tiny apartment with barely enough financial resources to keep you afloat, but on the other the idea of a small little baby with your nose and Tae’s eyes really was appealing.

“I want to have it, but I think in order to do that, I need you. I need your support.”

He looked up at you, an unreadable emotion lingering behind his eyes.

“Well I’m not just going to abandon my best friend and my kid. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

You both smiled.

“I don’t know. A kid’s a lot. I can’t really blame you if you just wanted to fuck off.”

“Look,” he moved from his seat in the armchair to sit next to you, “our love may be platonic but if I had to pick someone on the planet to have a child with right now, it would definitely be you. You are my best friend and we can make this work.”

“You sure have more faith in that then I do. I’m not going to be able to drink for nine months, Tae. Nine months!”

“And I won’t drink as well. I’m going to be here for you and our little bean.”

He placed his hand on your stomach and even though there was no sign of growth yet, you still felt a twinkle of adoration. For both your baby and the man beside you. Because sure, this wasn’t the life you had planned out at eighteen, but it was the life you were given, and you’d be damned if you were going to take it by the reigns and ride it off into the sunset.

“I love you, Tae.”

“I love you too.”

The two of you sat in silence, staring at his large hand on your stomach. It was a

“Fuck,” you groan.

“What?”

“What the hell are we gonna tell our parents?”

[lostcoves]

ft. tenya iida x fem!reader

genre: fluff

wc & warnings: 2k | mentions of wanting to v*mit

premise: thanks to your friend’s magnetizing quirk, you and your not so secret crush tenya iida are stuck together for the next six hours 

tenya iida, oh how you were enamored with him. his leadership, his quirky nature, everything about him made you melt into a puddle. but you were merely another face, a general studies student with an average quirk. you felt like you could never amount to anything compared to the hero course students. yet, fate had other plans for you and him.

"(l/n)-san!" your classmate kirumi yamamoto yelled your name across the classroom one afternoon at the end of the school day. you approached her- although, confused- and asked her, "what is it, yamamoto-san?"

"i need some help with my quirk practice and was wondering if you could help me?" she twiddled her thumbs, smiling like a cheshire cat. you pressed your lips together hesitantly before sighing and answering to kirumi, "okay, i'll help you."

kirumi quickly embraced you and grinned, "thank you, thank you, thank you!"

you would later come to regret this decision.

dressed in your gym uniform, you stood in an empty practice field and waited for kirumi to come out. she emerged from the school and waved at you, you greeted the wave and shouted to her, "whatcha need me to do to help you with your quirk?!"

"you're gonna be my target!" kirumi's quirk was magnets, she could make anything organic into a living magnet. your eyes widened at her response and opened your mouth in protest when she shot a beam at you. letting out a surprised scream, you stood frozen with kirumi's quirk pulsing around you. shit, you were a living magnet.

"now, who should i make into a magnet?" kirumi pondered on the thought until she noticed a group of people walking by near the field. kirumi smirked at the sight, tenya iida was in the group. she yelled to him, "hey iida-san, watch out!" before "accidentally" shooting her quirk's beam at iida. iida tried to duck but the beam was too fast, magnetizing poor iida in one blast. your eyes widened with realization and you let out a shout when iida came flying towards you. the two of you crashed into the ground, both disoriented and in pain.

"sorry!" kirumi laughed nervously.

"yamamoto-san!" iida exclaimed, "undo your quirk this instant!"

"yeah.. no can do!" she rubbed the nape of her neck sheepishly.

"w- wait do you mean?" you stammered, scared.

kirumi let out an anxious chuckle, "my quirk lasts for between thirty minutes to twenty four hours, depending on what i magnetize."

panic bubbled in your chest, you were gonna be stuck to iida for upwards to a day!?

"i'll say you guys are gonna be stuck together for maybe.. six hours?" kirumi hypothesized.

"six hours?!" iida was on the verge of passing out.

"sorry! i'll inform our teachers!" kirumi sprinted off, leaving you and iida to your own devices. queasiness enveloped your body, as you fought the urge to puke on your shoes. six hours, suck to your crush? this was a nightmare!

"before we do anything.. do you need the restroom?" iida questioned to you, his face blushing tomato red.

you shook your head, "thankfully, no. how about you?"

"same for me."

you two were in for an interesting six hours.

─────────────────

hour one - five hours remaining until quirk wears off

you and iida were in iida's bedroom. the teachers thought it would be more suited for you to be under the care of aizawa-sensei and the other pro-heroes specialized with this sorta situation. unable to go two meters without being sucked back to one another, you and iida made the executive decision to remain in his dorm room.

"so (l/n)-san.." iida cleared his throat and gave you an awkward smile, "what's general studies like?"

"like regular old high school," you mused, shifting a little to get more comfortable. iida felt himself getting pulled as a result, much to both of yours annoyance. kirumi's quirk was so frustrating! nothing compared to your simple quirk of water manipulation, a quirk that was a dime a dozen.

"what's it like being a hero course student?" now it was your turn to ask the questions.

"exhilarating," iida breathed out with a smile. he looked so beautiful when he smiled, you smiled in response. he then added to you, "we get in a lot of trouble with villains, though. something that i'm not happy about. they keep interrupting our studies and it's just.. annoying, to say the least."

"i bet," you hummed.

"so uh.. what else would you like to discuss? we got–" iida checked his watch, "–five hours and forty three minutes."

you huffed in exasperation, "good god, this is agonizing."

"hopefully, i'm not upsetting."

"no! you're not! it's just.. it's just.. i need my space," you confessed. iida nodded understandingly and replied, "i understand that. i'll do my best to ensure you're as comfortable as possible while we're stuck like this."

you gave iida's hand a squeeze, "thanks, iida-san."

he returned the hand squeeze with one of his own, his larger hand engulfing your smaller hand.

"of course, (l/n)-san."

─────────────────

hour three - two hours until quirk wears off

perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. you managed to learn a lot about iida while confined to his dorm room and under the magnetizing quirk. he pursued professional heroism as a result of being from a legacy of hero while you attended general studies to ensure a better future when you inherit your family's florist business. your quirk was good for subsidizing costs at the shop but you needed a better education in order to keep the family business afloat. general studies at ua offered a future for you.

"so iida-san," you plucked a grape off the platter of food iida's friend deku dropped off for the two of you, "if you could have any quirk in the world that's not your own, what would it be?"

"are we playing twenty questions?" iida tilted his head in bewilderment. you gave him a nod and he answered, "well, i have.. i'm a little jealous of my classmate todoroki-kun's dual ice and fire ability. i think it would be interesting to have a quirk like that."

"good answer," you plopped the grape in your mouth and gestured iida to ask you a question. he mulled over his question before proposing to you, "what's your ideal partner?"

you nearly choked on your grape but caught yourself before you could. why in the world would tenya iida ask you that kind of question?

"well.. i.. i, er–!" you adverted your gaze from your crush, "i like.. i like intelligent people who are good leaders and want the best for others."

"interesting, interesting.. what about appearance wise?"

you eyed iida warily, "i don't care too much about appearance but.. i like buff people and i think glasses are sexy."

iida made a mental note of your response, "i hope you find someone who matches your ideal lover one day, (l/n)-san!"

iida, you idiot! you thought to yourself, you match my ideal partner!

"so uh!" you cleared your throat, "next question.. what's your favorite food?"

this banter went back and forth for the next hour or so.

─────────────────

hour five - one hour until quirk wears off

you were getting exhausted and it was nearly nightfall at the dorms. your exhaustion was noted by iida, who offered you one of his blankets to sleep with. you grew flustered by the offer but nonetheless accepted it. so here you were, back to back with your crush and laying in his bed. was this a nightmare or a dream come true?

you couldn't sleep. i mean, obviously it was difficult to fall asleep in the presence of your crush. you tossed and turned a bit, the magnet pulse keeping you stuck to iida. the glass wearing boy sighed and turned himself around and whispered, "can't sleep?"

you gave him a nod and iida smiled, "what if i told you a story?"

"a story? what am i, a five year old?" you laughed awkwardly. iida frowned, disappointed. you didn't want to disappoint him so you cleared your throat and changed your answer, "you can tell me a story."

"good," iida wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, "my mother would tell me this story a lot when i was little. it starts with a knight and.."

iida went off to tell you the story of a knight cursed to be a beast until he could save a kingdom's princess. it was a story of heroism and sorrow, as the knight failed to save the princess. yet, the princess managed to save herself and in turn, broke the knight's curse with the power of self-forgiveness. you never heard such a tale before so it was definitely interesting to listen to.

"do you feel like you fail at self-forgiveness sometimes, iida-san?" you questioned to your crush, his arm still around your shoulders. god, it felt like the two of you were a couple. iida thought it over and responded, "sometimes. there are times where i feel like i can't forgive myself, such as not being able to avenge my brother for what the hero killer did to him."

you squeezed his arm sympathetically in response, "i'm sorry about it."

"it's.. well, it's not fine but thank you," he answered.

you fell silent, unsure of what to say. you sighed and turned to iida, "tenya iida, can i help you something?"

"sure, (l/n)-san."

"what would you do if someone told you that they liked you?"

"you mean as a friend or romantically?"

"romantically," your pulse quickened and your palms grew sweaty.

"it would depend on the person."

"iida-san.. i know someone who has a crush on you and they're scared to tell you," maybe you could avoid heartbreak if you go with the hypothetical situation.

iida furrowed his brow and removed his arm around you to hold his hands, "someone has a crush on me?"

"yes," a bead of sweat fell from your forehead, "they think you're heroic and sweet and amazing and a true leader. they're just scared to tell you because of the rejection."

"that's understandable," iida nodded. he unclasped his hands and looked back at you, "is that person the one telling me this?"

you gulped, "wh– what do you mean?"

"do you like me, (l/n)-san?"

you adverted your gaze.

"(l/n)-san?"

"i do."

it felt as if a weight had been lifted from your chest at your confession. now, time for the rejection.

"i like you, too."

what? he liked you too?!

"wait, you do? but we barely know one another!" you protested, surprised at iida's reply. iida chuckled and elaborated to you, "it was the sports festivial, (l/n)-san.. or could i call you (y/n)-chan?"

"(y/n)-chan works," you answered.

"well, that was the first time i really saw anyone from general studies perform with their quirks but you.. i saw a hero in you. i remember seeing you aid another student who struggled to get through the race. you helped her all through the race, not caring about winning the race. that was heroic and the start of my infatuation with you," iida explained.

you remembered, a girl had gotten injured and you dragged her through the course. iida saw that?

"then i began seeing you around school and i wanted to talk to you but i never had the chance until now," iida finished with a nervous smile. you let out a soft huff, followed by a laugh. you couldn't believe it, iida shared similar feelings with you. this was a dream come true!

"can i kiss you?” you proposed to iida. he nodded, “you can.”

timidly, you leaned in close and pressed a gentle kiss on iida’s lips. the kiss was tender and sweet, innocent and exploratory. 

“wow..” he whispered against your lips, “that was amazing.”

“you think so?” you murmured, your lips still stuck to his.

“i know so.”

“hey tenya– i can call you tenya, right?”

“of course.”

“good, but uh.. i can’t remove my lips.”

iida’s eyes widened and he pulled back, only for your lips to connect together once more. horrified, you realized that you two would be stuck like this for the next hour or so. damn kirumi and her quirk!

yet, this wasn’t a miserable outcome. at least, you and iida confessed to one another. that was more than enough for you.