#but of course she reminded me that I missed Yoghurt too

[hollenka99]

Being in the middle of changing the names of characters to either not be mcyt-related at all or morph them into Antarctic spellings is funny because inevitably, we will run into names that we forgot. Despite the fact a list was just made of all the names I could remember.

[navegandoaciegas]

Little doll

Pairing: dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: stockholm syndrome, manipulation, controlling!Bucky, unhealthy relationship, mentions of violence in the past (no graphic description), smut, vaginal sex, oral sex (both male and female receiving), vaginal and anal fingering, slight praise kink.

Summary: You used to be a strong-willed independent woman, but after a whole lot of training, you’ve finally become Bucky’s perfect little doll for him to own, love and take care of. 

A/N: I had this idea in mind today and wrote this in a couple of hours for @jtargaryen18​ ‘s 4k writing challenge. Congrats! I hope it’s decent lmfao 

There is no graphic violence or non-con in this story, but it’s stated/hinted pretty heavily that these things did happen in the past. Reader has no physical description. 18+ only. English is my third language so sorry for any mistakes.

7.09 am

There’s a pulsing ache between your legs and a hot breath fanning over your neck that sends tingles down your spine.

“Baby?” you mumble in a daze, still half asleep, moaning and clutching the sheets when you feel a finger tease your entrance.  

“‘Morning, sleepyhead.” Bucky murmurs, peppering your cheeks with small kisses. 

You can’t fight back the smile that spreads on your face and you slowly pry your eyes open, finding your husband already looking at you in adoration. He lets his lips move downwards, nipping the skin of your throat and sucking little bruises there. A moan escapes you when the hand that was kneading your breasts pinches one of your nipples while his fingers keep sliding in and out of your pussy, sending jolts of pleasure all over your body.

You’re burning up, feeling a familiar pressure build up in your core already. You’ve been together for years, but you’ll never get over how good he is at this.  

His hands are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The hair on his chest and lower abdomen rubs on your sensitive skin, and you can’t get enough of all this. You never will. 

His name is on your lips like a prayer as you beg him for more, for that sweet release only he can give you. He complies, spreading your legs and settling between them. He trails open mouthed kisses down your body, slowly bringing his face to your awaiting cunt. The anticipation of what he’ll do to you is killing you slowly. He licks a strip of your dripping pussy and dips his tongue in your folds, pushing as far as he can go.

“So sweet.” 

He groans against you when you grab a fistful of his long hair and the vibration goes straight to your core, making the knot inside you tighter. You grind your hips against his face, fucking yourself with his mouth and crying out loud in pleasure. 

“So wet, so needy, all for me.”

He draws circles on your swollen clit and crooks a couple of fingers inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that makes your toes curl and your back arch even more. 

You’re writhing underneath him, desperate for a release.

“Please, faster.” you moan, bucking your hips wildly.

“Beg for it.” he demands, jerking four fingers inside of you.

His bruising touch, the vibration inside your cunt, his soft kisses. It’s all too much and still not enough.

“Please Bucky, please let me cum all over your face, please, please, I’ll be good for you.” you beg like the cockslut you are.

He sucks hard on your clit, and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge, body shaking uncontrollably and vision going white. .

You’re spent, panting on the bed and feeling the familiar burn that his beard leaves behind on the soft skin of your inner thighs. Your walls flutter around nothing, and somehow you want more.

“Such a good girl for me.” He looks at you through half lidded eyes, lips red and swollen, face covered in your slick. You taste yourself on his tongue when he dips down and slants his mouth against yours, reigniting the fire inside of you.

“Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to come again, all over my cock? Yes?”

You whine, feeling yourself grow hotter than before. “Yes, please, fuck me.”

He thrusts inside you, slowly at first, faster once he can sheathe himself fully without feeling any pain. You’re still sore from yesterday, but the familiar stretch of his thick cock is so good that you ignore the burn. You only feel him and the pleasure he’s giving you.

“So perfect, made for me, my sweet girl.” he grunts in your ear, and the praise sends jolts of electricity directly to your cunt.

Your hands are roaming over his hard muscles and your walls are clenching down on his cock, impatient for another orgasm to wreck you.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of him fucking you, his balls hitting your ass, the squelch of your arousal, and he’s so vocal with his moans and grunts that you could come hard just listening to him.

His pace is more frantic than before. Your walls are milking him as he pounds into you relentlessly. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more pleasure, Bucky dips his hand behind you, fingers covered in your slick teasing your back entrance and pushing inside you, finding no resistance in your relaxed state. His pubic bone hits your clit repeatedly and you’re so full of his cock and fingers and him that you see stars.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my cock. Show me how good you are.”

He snaps his hips harder against you and you cry out when the pressure in your core releases, jolts of pleasure shooting from your cunt to the rest of your body, vision going blank. 

He swallows your cries with his mouth, and the feeling of you clenching around him is enough to send him over the edge too. His thrusts become sloppier and he cums hard, holding onto your waist with a bruising grip and biting down on your bottom lip.

He collapses on top of you, and you relish in the feeling of his hot release filling you up.

“Love you.” he mumbles, caressing your cheeks.

“Love you more.” you whisper with a smile, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

You stay impossibly close for what feels like hours, Bucky still inside you, encompassing your whole body, until the alarm clock goes off and he lifts himself up with a grunt. He stares in fascination as his cum slowly drips out of your cunt and onto the sheets.

“Don’t wanna go to work today, doll.” he whines, clinging onto you again and pouting like a child, “Wanna stay in bed with you.”

You chuckle, because he’s always so needy in the morning, and push him off you.

“We’ll stay like this all weekend, I promise. Now go get ready.”

-

The smell of freshly brewed coffee invades the kitchen and your senses. You love the fragrance, even though you aren’t allowed to drink it. Bucky says it’s bad for a dainty doll like you. You remember you used to be addicted to caffeine before; it was the only thing that kept you going during your long, strenuous shifts at the hospital you worked at as a nurse. Bucky provides for you now, so you don’t have to worry about that exhaustion anymore.

You drink loose leaf herbal tea these days.

You smile when a ray of light shining through the window hits the diamond ring on your fourth finger, projecting a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls. The eggs are sizzling in the pan, the bread slices are toasting in the oven and you can hear the faint noise of Bucky taking a shower.

You arrange the table the way he likes it: buttered toast and scrambled eggs on a plate, yoghurt and cut up fruit in a little stained glass container, a steaming mug of coffee, a tall glass of ice cold water and fresh flowers in a vase; the paper towel goes to the right side of the plate, with a fork and a knife with the sharp side that faces left on top of it. You nod in satisfaction at the spread and remove the strainer from your teacup.

Bucky greets you with a peck on the lips and a bright smile. He pulls the chair back for you, ever the gentleman, and sits on the other one, “Any plans for today?”

“The usual, y’know. I may go for a walk at the park, if that’s okay with you?” you hesitate on the last part, giving him a hopeful smile. You love to collect the wildflowers in the meadow and feed the ducks at the pond. Plus, walking is good for your health, and Bucky has you exercise at least once a day anyways.

“Of course you can, princess. Do you have enough birdseed or do you need more?” he asks, chewing a mouthful of eggs and toast, “I’ll give you extra money if you want to get it.”

You’re grateful he agreed. Truth be told, he hardly ever denies you anything now that you’ve learnt to behave. “Thanks, but it should be enough to last me another week, I think. Is Steve coming for dinner tonight?”

He shakes his head and sips on the coffee you made him, just the way he likes it: two sugars, one splash of full fat milk, a sprinkle of chocolate powder. “No, I think the punk’s staying home with Sharon tonight, ‘member her?”

You nod. You do remember Sharon. They’ve been dating for a while. She is a nurse like you used to be. Would Steve make her keep the job? 

Bucky doesn’t seem to notice your pensive mood and checks his phone as he finishes the last of his strawberries. “God, it’s 8.35 already. I gotta hurry sweetheart, don’t want to be late again like yesterday.” he says with a mischievous smirk.

You feel warmth creep up your face at the memory of the reason why he was late, and you clench your thighs shut as you recall the image of you bent over this same table you’re at and him pounding into you from behind. He wouldn’t leave unless he gave you one more, and then another, until you were shaking and crying in pleasure. 

You both get up. He grabs his jacket and backpack, you hand him the lunch you’ve packed for him. He pulls you in for a sweet kiss, holding you by the waist. You taste the coffee lingering on his tongue and it reminds you of another life.  

He pulls away and nuzzles your hair, hugging you tightly. “I’ll miss you.” He mumbles in your ear, inhaling the calming scent of the lavender shampoo he’s chosen for you.

“I’ll miss you more. Have a good day at work.”

“Thank you, have fun at the park. Behave.”

You wave him goodbye from the front porch and stand there until his sleek black car disappears in the distance. You sigh, missing him already, and get inside, ready to start your day.

-

9.00 am

Bucky is a business manager at Stark’s IT company and his job is a 9-5, Monday to Friday, which means every week day you start your chores after he leaves.

He likes the house spotless and you never want to disappoint him. You shudder at the thought of what happens when you do. Thankfully, it hasn’t occurred in a while. Only bad girls get punished, and you hate punishments too much to be one.

You start downstairs: you open all the windows to let the fresh morning air inside and get to work. You vacuum and mop the floors, disinfect the kitchen counter and empty the dishwasher, sanitize every surface in the bathroom until it’s squeaky clean and smells like Bucky’s favorite lemon scented detergent. Then you move upstairs: you wipe down all the furniture, scrub the ensuite, change the soiled sheets and sort through the hamper, separating whites and colored.

You hum as you work, proud of yourself because you’ve perfected the cleaning routine in your time with your husband, so now it only takes you an hour and a half now to do the entire house.

You grab the basket of dirty linen and clothes and head downstairs to do the chore you hate the most: laundry. The basement where the washer and dryer are makes you quiver in fear when you think of it, but you haven’t found the courage to ask Bucky to move the appliances upstairs yet. Sometimes you still have nightmares about your time there, and Bucky has to hold you and rock you all night to calm you down.

It’s where you spent the first six months after he took you, locked up all alone. He’d visit you every night, but you didn’t appreciate that. You feel guilty now for all those times you fought him, especially the one time you managed to break his nose with your elbow and sprinted upstairs. He caught you just one step before the front door. God, you were so stupid. You’re lucky he got to you in time. What would a girl like you do without a man like him?

As punishment, you spent a week locked in a wardrobe, with no food and barely enough water to survive. You stopped fighting after that, and when he got you out you sobbed on his shoulder and let him hold you and bathe you. You slept in his bed that night, and all the nights that followed in these 3 years. 

Bucky never meant to hurt you, only take care of you, but you were too stupid to understand that back then. You understand now.

-

12.55 pm

It’s a beautiful spring day, the sun is bright and there’s a light breeze blowing from west. 

You think of how you weren’t allowed to leave the house until a year and half ago. You missed the outdoors. But Bucky is a fair man and he lets you go wherever you want now that he can trust you. He even takes you on weekend trips wherever you desire. Maybe if you’re good enough, one day he’ll buy you a car, so you won’t have to walk everywhere.

You still have a tracker implanted in your forearm, but that’s for your own safety.

You spread a blanket underneath your favorite tree; from your position you can see both the water and the meadow, and that lovely wooden bridge over the pond too. 

You’re basking in the sun as you reflect on all the new hobbies you’ve picked up now that you don’t have to spend the better part of your days in a hospital.

You embroider, you try out new recipes, you read, you do yoga, you paint and draw, you collect flowers and leaves and you dry them up in your botanical journal. You’ve become quite good at taking care of the garden in these past few months, and the roses you’ve planted are growing nice and strong. Sometimes you go for a swim in the ocean, some others you go shopping. The house is entirely decorated in your paintings, and you often give them to Bucky’s friends and family too.

You don’t have friends or family anymore. You only have Bucky.

You never thought you would enjoy these activities so much, just like you never thought you could be so free. Of your job, of so much pain and sorrow, of the hardship that comes with free will, of the choices you make that weigh you down until you can’t sleep anymore.

Who knew having your freedom taken away would be so liberating. Not you. 

You have Bucky to thank for that. He always knows what’s best for you.

-

5.29 pm

Bucky’s been thinking about you all day and as soon as he’s clocked out, he couldn’t come back home fast enough. He smiles when the front door opens and he’s hit by the smell of freshly baked cookies. You really spoil him too much.

You run into his arms as soon as you realize he’s back, hugging him tightly, mumbling about how much you’ve missed him.

You’ve made dinner for him, just like he expects of you. Homemade basil pesto pasta, grilled salmon, oven roasted vegetables, white wine for him, tonic water for you because alcohol is bad for little dolls, white chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

You chat about your days over food, and when you’re both done you clean up while he changes into more comfortable clothes.

He has a reward for you, since you’ve been so good lately, but he wants you to earn it.

“On your knees.” he commands, and like the perfect doll you are, you comply.

You look up at him with your innocent doe eyes and Bucky knows he could come at the sight of you so beautiful, so obedient alone. His hands work swiftly as he pulls down his sweats and gets his already hard cock out. 

“I want to fuck your mouth.” he says, tracing your lips with his red tip, “Open up, doll.”

You do as he says. You take him in your mouth and his eyes instinctively roll back at the feeling of your wet tongue licking a strip from base to tip; your cheeks hollow around him, sucking him off, one hand pumping his length and the other massaging his balls.

He aches for more, so he grabs a fistful of your hair in what is probably a painful grip, judging from the way you gasp, and he takes that as an opportunity to slant himself inside your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. He shoves himself deeper and deeper until you can't breathe, your face is red and your eyes full of tears. You steady yourself holding onto his thick thigs as he keeps fucking your mouth harder, balls slapping your chin.

Saliva is dripping down on your face as you’re choking on his cock, and those gagging noise you make vibrate against him, making this all the more pleasurable. He knows you won’t complain anyways, no matter how much he abuses your mouth or your cunt.

He knows you’ll always comply. He’s made sure of that.

With a last thrust in your mouth he pulls out just in time to paint your face with his hot spurt. You look perfect with tears streaming down your cheeks and his cum all over you.

“You did so good princess.” he praises you, and you smile up at him, “Go get cleaned up now, we’re watching a movie. You choose.”

You beam, and he knows you’ll choose one of those Disney movies you like so much.

Good girls always get a prize.

-

11.00 pm is your bedtime. Little dolls need their 8 hours of sleep.

You’re already fast asleep, and Bucky looks in complete devotion and adoration at your form. You’re so pretty, so perfect, so completely his.

You’ve been so good lately that he hasn’t had to punish or discipline you in more than six months.

You’re no longer the stubborn woman you used to be, the one that broke his nose and resisted all he’s put you through for months. You’re finally a little doll for him to own, love and care for. His little doll to dress up and play with. He’s especially happy tonight, because he knows you’ll love the reward for being so good this time. 

It’s only taken Steve two years, because Sharon wasn’t as strong as you, but he’s done now.

Bucky knows how lonely you can get. Tomorrow you too will have a friend, another little obedient doll like you to play with.

-

read my other dark!bucky fic here

I hope you liked this! If you did, please reblog and let me know what you thought of it. 🥺

[blufox234isadumbname]

dream (XD, maybe?) visits fundy in his dreams. it's the only thing making them bearable, and keeping him sane

:)

Nobody [inspired by a mitski song]

Many make mistakes, Fundy was one of them. He just wanted to make sure Yoghurt was safe that night, what with more mobs emerging from the south. He just wanted to tuck his kid and make sure he slept better than him. With kiddish purrs becoming white noise, he should've stopped himself when he felt his lids flutter, when his bed dipped and he saw the house go black.

The fox-hybrid opened his eyes, already letting the horror sink in before opening the damn door. It was all over again, he thought he was getting better. No. He was a fool, still a foolish fox. Yoghurt was no longer by his side, and he already started to feel sweltering heat entering the home. Fundy's heart already ached, already sore. His breaths were heavy, weighted over him as he laid in the dreaded empty bed. Tears were beginning to form but he blinked and rubbed them harshly away. Just close your eyes, he thought. But he knew better, wishes could never be reality. He just wanted it to be over, so he had to do it himself. Fundy always had to do everything himself anyways, this was no different.

He got up and readjusted his black breton cap. Steady and stalwart, steps crept towards and stopped in front of the door. Twisting the knob, a final breath was heaved before the same scenery greeted the displeasured fox. He became familiar with the barren land, covered by only hot dry sand and tall cacti. The winds seemed to be strong that dream, dust clouds were choking the poor dreamer. He closed the door behind him, noticing his red tail hung low. First thing was first, he left the area of his house to find anything out of place. It was instinct to try and spot something that stuck out like a sore thumb, besides his little spruce wood cottage.

Fundy sank his naked feet into the sand, burning his padded paws. He trudged along in a random direction, which was wherever the barest clouds were drifting opposite from. That's all he did for a couple of minutes, maybe more than half an hour to him. Prime, he hated how the sun was bright, how the sunshine was a glaring spot above him. He hated to stare at the dull sky for any second longer. He hated winds dusting the sand into his eyes. All of it was n eyesore, metaphorically and litterally.

He just continued onward, awaiting any subtle and not-so-subtle ghostly remnants of his history coming back to haunt. To be reminded of why his life sucked, that was surely fun, right? He wanted a break, a detour from the disaster that was him. For not the first time, he wanted to be elsewhere. Not just in the dream but in reality. Yes, Las Nevadas was the haven he wanted it to be. But that came with the cost of having his dreadfully undead father closer to him. As if he wanted a chance to be mocked and haunted. Even more so, Tubbo and Ranboo causing a commotion with Quackity already had set him at unease. Threats towards a nation he called a home, a lovely return to the cycle. Like dirty water from the sea to acid rain in the clouds, it's become the same horrid cycle.

Speaking of clouds, the fox-hybrid looked up. The smallest gathering of clouds became a crowd of them all across a brighter baby blue canvas. The yucky yellow sand turned a grassier green. If he squinted, he could maybe see the blooms of other than cactus flowers. Finally, a reason for the feet under him to pick up their pace. Fundy kept running towards the green, faster and faster as he could taste them with his fingers. As soon as he was near enough, he dived right into the fresh field. A little mistake, per usual, as he began rolling down a knoll all of a sudden. Through the short wild grass into a taller field of lavender and peonies, the fox finally took a deep breath. A clean and relaxed breath-

"Hello, Fundy."

- before it hitched.

Fundy lifted his head up above the flowers to spot a cleared spot. In the patch of cornflowers and poppies, a naked area of just grass lay, with a figure. He knew it well, with the dirty blonde hair - though he never remembered it being at scruffy and shoulder length - and deadly smile-painted mask adorned. In a lime, white and black letterman jacket over a starkingly orange jumpsuit. He knew that man well, even by the soft humming. The blank eyes of the mask and the man behind to stared at the fox-hybrid. If it weren't a nightmare yet, Fundy figured it just started.

"How are you here?" The hoodied man asked

"Don't...don't even talk to me..." The overcoated fox snarled with teeth bared and tail puffed.

Dream huffed, toying with something in his hands.

"I just asked. The dreamscape is not normally so free reign. For you, you're the least I expected to be able to cross barriers of mind."

"What the fuck are you talking about. Why are you here? What, to haunt me? To mock me? To tell me I'm useless?"

"...To make flower crowns"

He held up said piece of rope strung with flower blooms. His was a cornflower and daisy crown.

"That...that's it?"

"Can you control your dreams?"

"That...it's none of your business, Dream."

"I'm assuming no. But you are willingly seeing me. So in that case, I suppose I can tell you. You know I was imprisoned, in that big ol' prison? Anyway, a being gave me a wish, or rather a gift. I could control my own dreams, I could lucid dream whenever I wanted to. So I could stay in prison while still feeling the grassy field. So I'm here."

"You don't...get nightmares? NOS Cary reminders of your past? Nothing scary?" *And while I do?*, Fundy doesn't add on. Dream pauses for a break. before he answers

"How could I? I control every aspect of my dream. Though you are certainly not part of it. I appreciate the company, kinda? But I'd rather not keep it. It's be nice if I just asked that dream being to remove you-"

"NO!"

"Excuse me?"

"P-Please...I-I don't wanna go back..."

He hated how his voice became frail at the drop of a hat, how his ears flattens and how shaky his hands became. Already begging to a tyrant, the same one who's destroyed everything in his life. What Fundy had begged was true, however, he didn't not want to go back to nightmares. This was the only time the dreams felt good. Albeit muddled by a lime menace, it was better than the frightening things ahead did him. The fox heard the man sigh.

"Sure, sure you can stay."

"Thank you..."

Fundy sat down in front of Dream, criss-cross legged. And the two were silent. The dreamer kept weaving in the flowers in the rope while the intruder simply watched. His clawed hands picked at the grass blades. Admittedly he enjoyed the scenery, if it weren't for the horror of a man in front of him. He noticed the excess rope tossed aside and something in Fundy urged him to use it too. He could tell eyes were on him again even from behind the unmoving mask.

"Yes, you can make flower crowns too. You know how to make one?"

"Y-yeah. Niki taught me how to make one with rope. I made hers with alliums. She gave me one made out to tulips" Fundy chuckled at the memory fondly.

Dream paid no mind just gave Fundy the extra rope and returned to his own project. After that, the quietness continued for much longer. But Fundy was never a fan of long silences.

"...Why a field? Out of flowers? I didn't know you were into this kind of stuff."

Dream paused for a minute, seemingly deliberating. He room a breath and spoke;

"It's just me wanting to relive old memories. Before settling in the SMP, me and George went to a flower field. We just spent half the say there doing jack all."

"It's always George is it?"

"... he's my friend. I'd do anything for him."

"Even terrorising a nation? Even threatening a kid? Even dethroning him?"

"..."

The silence spoke volumes. Fundy knew he overstepped, but it was hard for him to be sympathetic over it. He swore the surroundings looked dimmer for a second.

"I miss him. I'm no longer allowed visitors and even then, he never came by to visit."

"Who did?"

"Sapnap. Bad. Tommy, surely you know. Then Technoblade."

"Wait Techno visited you?"

"Less visit and more just made a new space in my jail cell. It's like a vacation to him. I'm not mad but...I like here better anyway."

"What's it like? In the jail cell."

"Tight. Closed. Hot. And I mean scorching. It's surrounded by lava. Barely much room to move around, not much there. I do have books to write in but so far I have started writing none."

"Someone hasn't been productive, I see?"

"I liked to write stuff. Just random things. But in a cramped space...I can't. I see why people are claustrophobic. It's feel like hell in there...for more than just the lava."

Fundy started to feel a twinge of a heat wave on his back as he stuck a flower into the rope. It died down shortly after.

"Since you're asking me questions. It should be fair I ask you."

"That's...yeah, that's fair."

"What were you doing, before you slept?"

"In bed. Just...alone in my cottage. Far away with no one else." Fundy lied, no matter the somewhat friendly tone, he wasn't ever going to risk Yoghurt.

"I thought you had Eret? Or Niki? I thought maybe you guys stay in at Least a neighbourhood."

"I...I haven't spoken to either in so long. I think they forgot about me. That's...fair"

"Hmm..."

Before I slept I was just building m stuff in Las Nevadas. It's...it's a thing Quackity built. I can't say more than that-"

A roar of something, not too loud but enough to be noticeable, came through. It spooked Fundy well enough.

"Dream what-"

"Let's...not talk about that."

"Well, what else is there to talk about me? I have nothing else. That...that palace is all I got going for me honestly."

"I thought you had more."

"No. After L'manburg, all of it gone, I don't have much else. By who, I wonder?I didn't care, that was fine by me until I did something different. I'm making sure I have a place, at least."

"Like a house?"

Fundy twisted the stalk gently, silently.

"Like a place of belonging. Where I can be remembered and people know where I am."

"I get that..."

"Of course you do, you tyrant. Your name is sure to be famous."

"Not the being remembered part. The belonging part."

The clouds seemed heavier at that moment.

"Find it hard to believe coming from the same guy that he cares for no one but a kid's discs."

"I know what I said, Fundy. But I don't care about the discs. I care about having control. Having everything in my hands. To take strings of the marionette and play them by my fingers. That's what I aim for, not just useless material discs."

"What does this have to do with belonging?"

The roar came back, a roar of thunder.

"The puppet master is not a puppet. He cannot be a puppet. When the puppets go free, he is left for dead..."

Dream's scarred hands clutch the half done green tulip crown. Down a drop goes from the petal. Then another, then another. Fundy looks up, to see the trickles. Down the drops of precipitation go to his face. Fundy's chest felt heavy, clebtched by something in a grip. He saw Dream looking up as well. From the angle he could partially see the bottom features under the mask. A pursed mouth with scars on his lips. Dottings of freckles across his cheeks. Streaks of not raindrops reaching down his chin. He heard the hiccups, the struggle to compose oneself. He knew that too well. Fundy found the part to care about as he stroked Dream's forearm carefully.

"I-I'm sorry, It's...I-I'm never like this. I'll just change-" the masked man's voice was breakable, cusp of falling apart.

"No. I like the rain."

Dream looked back to Fundy. It was true, the fox-hybrid liked rain. He used to play in the puddles as it drizzled even into adulthood, before more important things occupied his time. Like getting weapons for war or spying on a president. Fundy had on a solemn smile, a weak one in the likeable weather. His hair and fur became bristled whislt his tail wrapped unconsciously around him.

"I feel alone too. Everyone has left me

The people that I care about always hate me or leave. They leave me frightened in a place where everything so to survive. I'm barely staying alive as is. I don't have anyone."

"I don't have anyone either. I'm heartless, I pushed them away. Techno is with me, yeah. But what happens then? I'm too scared to find out. All I want is to just be free..."

Fundy laughed a bit. He tossed aside the half-effort flower crown and stood up. He opened his arms wide, further than his shoulders. He kept laughing, giggling, wheezing over. He raked a hand through ginger and snow white locks of his, knocking back his black breton cap.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, one, it's already crazy you're telling me all of this. This all feels like stuff you'd suppressed hard. Even in your dreams. And secondly...god, I wish we talked more sooner."

"What?"

"You and me, both alone in this world. We're unlovable. Reckless bastards we are. I'm not the worst like you but by Prime, I'm just as lonely as you. I can't excuse reving Wilbur and the 16th...but maybe we could've been friends."

He knew dream was smiling, not from the mask but from the small line of daylight peeking through the clouds.

"Fundy, I could never be friends with you. I'd push you away too."

"Then don't push me away now. I'm desperate, man."

"...I wouldn't."

Fundy smiled a glint of the sun right back at Dream. For once in a dream, he was at ease. The pouring rain slowed s little down to a drizzle, enough fro him to avoid smelling of dog water. The clouds journeyed away from the meadow, and let the sun's smile through. He loved the rays of sunshine gracing his face above him. He loved he could stare at the cloud-scattered sky for almost hours. He loved the winnow through the grass that made them dance. He loved it there.

"Sorry about the rain. In my dreams, I rarely can talk to anyone. And techno is not exactly the most relatable with what I have. Outside, I keep it in. But where I am, where we are, is inside me already."

"Fun to know this is the inner machinations of the terror Dream."

"Hehehah"

"...I probably won't remember this happend. When I wake I won't have a clear thought of events. Just so you'd know."

"It's fine. I knew you wouldn't anyway. That's why I let most of it out. That and because, I feel like I can trust you. I can't leave my cell but maybe someday I'll find you again. And maybe-"

A click from behind Dream's head could be heard. He moved his hand latched onto the mask and pulled it down. There he was, gentle scarred smile with even gentler eyes, covered by dirty blonde turning silver white to the tips. Irises coloured almost like emerald and aqua ender eyes looked back to the fox. Finally, his black tipped ears lifted and twitched, and his tail was wagging slightly.

"-we could be alone together again?"

Fundy's heart ached, sore already.

"I'd like to. For now, let's just depend on dreams."

"I can work with that."

Dream tossed his mask aside, uncaring and apathetic to the piece of porcelain disguise. He gently pushed Fundy by the tip of his finger, to which the former feign to be toppled. He fell in the middle of the tall peonies and lavenders and tulips. Dream joined a second after, right next to Fundy. Bliss, this is what he Fundy would call it. He felt less tensed, less mangled on fear. He had spent sleeping hours just shaken, because his fears conquered him alone. Taunting him because he was alone. Preyed on every part of him alone. But now he had a chance, to dwell int eh shrot grass, be crowned royalty in a field of flowers and feel less on his own. Fundy closed his eyes, as the smell of morning dew hit him.

And he woke up, lied curled up next to Yoghurt. And with a flower in his palm. A rose. He already wants to sleep, no matter the chance of being in the desert again. He wants to see the sunshine in the field of flowers more than anything.

[pokesaurio]

I find it hard to believe that New Amsterdam has such little fanfiction. It’s a great show! So I decided to write something for the Leyren ship (which I would usually never do) to fix this! Hope you enjoy :)

Summary: How the Dam Fam finds out about Lauren’s new roommate.

Helen:

“So, naturally, you offered her to live with you” said Helen sarcastically, incredulous at Lauren’s out of character decision.

“Well, yes, she has become my friend after all, and I couldn’t let her alone in the streets”, replied Lauren matter-of-factly.

“Hmm. And how’s it going?” Helen rose an eyebrow suspiciously.

“It’s...” Lauren let out a small sigh, “It’s effortless, really. I feel like she’s always been there”. The “which scares me” was left unsaid.

Helen patiently waited until Lauren disclosed more, knowing her friend usually needed more time to open up.

“Well, except for the massive tree in the middle of the living room. Which I don’t dislike, but...”

“What?!” This got Helen’s attention. Since when was Bloom known to decorate her apartments, let alone let another person do so... with living things?!

“Well, she bought a tree, said it reminded her of home. But apparently it was smaller in the picture, so now I have a full-blown tree in my living room. And I think I like it” that last part she muttered softly.

Helen let out a small, genuine smile, amused but also proud of her friend. “That looks like progress. You haven’t yet snapped her head off for touching your space, so I’d say that’s a point for Lauren’s intimate relationships”.

“Pfft. It’s not very intimate if I still don’t know about her. I have tried to learn what she likes, but she still won’t really tell me about herself. It’s a little frustrating really” Lauren let out an adorable pout.

“Well, give her time. She is living in a stranger’s house after all, in a new country and with probably no other connections or friendships here. I can’t imagine she trusts people easily” said Helen patiently.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mama Bear is at it again. Free advice for all!” Lauren laughed.

Helen snorted. “Well, it’s taken me nowhere with Mina. Still don’t know how this motherly figure thing works, sadly” she stated defeatedly.

“Oh, come on! You’re doing great! She’s slowly respecting her school timetable and your curfews more, right? And she hasn’t put a massive tree in your living room. That has to count for something” said Lauren, pointing her finger at Helen as she walked towards her ED. “You’ve got this!” and she gave Helen her best thumbs up and exaggerated smile.

Casey:

Lauren haphazardly threw her stuff into her backpack and went for the door, ready to call it a day and head back home.

“Lauren, you’re rushing out” Casey said suspiciously as he entered the locker room. “I assume this means you’re gonna continue smuggling your friend here? Cause if it does, you should know you are risking even more than before. If they catch you again...”

“No, Casey, it’s not like that” Lauren stated. “Don’t worry, she won’t be coming back here”.

“So that means... you let her go? Do you know where she is?” said Casey, now concerned about Leyla’s wellbeing.

“She’s actually... living with me?” said Lauren, the last part coming out in a rush and higher pitch.

“What?” asked Casey, wide-eyed. “Lauren, she- what?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t leave her on the streets, and I figured since I’m never home it couldn’t hurt to give her my spare room” justified Lauren to what seemed like Casey and herself.

“Okay, Lauren, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, you are risking a lot for this stranger. Please be careful” said Casey, though not unkindly. He was just worried about his friend.

“But that’s just it, Casey. She’s not a stranger, not anymore, and I would have done the same for any one of you. I protect my people” said Lauren, now sounding much more convinced.

“Well, if you’re happy with your decision, I can only congratulate you. You finally have a friend outside of work!” he added with a smile, teasing Lauren.

Lauren swatted his arm playfully. “I forgot, Mr Popular here knows most of New York. And I might have one friend, but it’s a hard one” she said, giving him the finger.

“Okay, okay!” Casey laughed, raising his arms defensively. “You win. But Lauren” he said softly “I am happy for you. Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing”.

“Thanks” said Lauren with a smile, squeezing his arm lightly as she left.

Lauren:

She did know what she was doing. Right. Right? It wasn’t like Leyla was a random stranger, not anymore, and she liked her enough that living together had been smooth sailing so far. So why did she find herself overthinking everything when it came to Leyla?

“Get your shit together, Lauren” she chanted to herself. She was driving home, her palms sweating slightly, but still excited to get there. She had been rushing out a lot lately. The memory of Leyla’s soft smile as she held her hand, fingers interlocking and fitting perfectly as they stared at the tree and Lauren’s want, need to be close, oh so close, a compass searching North. She couldn’t wait to get home to Leyla’s sarcasm, Leyla’s dinners, Leyla’s subtle presence in her apartment and life that made it theirs.

Without noticing, Lauren had been smiling like an idiot for at least half an hour, and she had arrived to her portal. She got out of the car and went for the stairs, taking twice at a time. But as she opened the door, a wave of disappointment washed over her. Leyla wasn’t home, had probably had to take a DriverTime client, and suddenly the apartment felt empty and cold again. Lauren couldn’t understand how she had lived like this for so long before.

But then a thought sprung to mind. Leyla had waited for her every day for the past week, staying up and meeting her with a fabulous home-cooked dinner after work. The least she could do was reciprocate, so Lauren got ready to prepare a mindblowing meal or die trying. Cooking had never been her strong suit, but she figured it couldn’t be too hard.

She remembered Leyla mentioning she deeply missed Pakistani cuisine, and how she had been disgusted by Lauren suggesting she try a Pakistani restaurant around the corner. “You Americans think you can serve a random dish and rebrand an entire culture. That place is not Pakistani”, she had stated. So Lauren had asked, and she had learned, how Nihari reminded her of late night dinners at home and Lassi was her all-time favourite beverage. And so she had a single thought in mind; today she was making the best Pakistani dinner for Leyla.

As she set out to spice the assortion of different meets, she re-entered her previous reverie. She knew Leyla would love this, even if Lauren was probably going to ruin the recipe and tarnish the Pakistani name. But Leyla would smile sweetly, as she did every time Lauren remembered a small detail about her and did her best to make her feel like home, and she would be grateful. Lauren could not wait until she came back, excited to see that look on her face that said “no one’s ever cared for me like this, and I’m glad you’re the first one”.

Slow-cooking the meat into a stew proved difficult, and mixing the yoghurt, water, spices and fruit for the Lassi had Lauren seriously questioning her cooking skills. But all in all, after about an hour she decided she had done a pretty good job. She set out to dress the table, going as far as opening a good red wine and placing a candle. She didn’t want to overdo it, but thought Leyla would decidedly not mind and find her efforts cute. Lauren was struck by the inclusion of “cute” into her vocabulary, could not remember when she had cared about someone’s reaction this much, and decided damn Leyla and her faint smiles had softened her. She couldn’t bring herself to care, though.

And just like clockwork, as soon as Lauren set the last plate with the fine-looking Nihari on the table, Leyla entered the apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!” she shouted jokingly in her beautiful accent.

“Hey! How was work? Any frat boys I should beat up?” said Lauren smiling.

“No frat boys, thankfully. Just an old lady telling me about her grandson. I must have seen like 30 photos of him, and let me tell you, no one can convince me babies are cute. They’re bald!” Leyla proclaimed, dignified.

Lauren snorted. “Of course you would befriend a grandma and have her show you her family. It must be your cranky charm” replied Lauren teasingly.

“You would be surprised. I cause sensation amongst octogenarians” said Leyla amusedly. As she caught the smell of cooked meat, she looked at Lauren, surprised. “You cooked? You? Is MY tree burnt down?” she joked.

“I’ll let you know, OUR tree is intact and very much still alive. And don’t you dare take away my custody, I love him like my own son too!” said Lauren in mock dignification. “I did cook, and I hope you like it” she continued, now softly. She met Leyla’s eye, hope and wonder sparkling bilaterally.

Leyla approached the table, repressing a squeel of excitement at the site of her favourite foods. “Lauren! You shouldn’t have! How did you even-?” and as she turned around to look at Lauren, the intensity in her eyes stunned her. The amount of care and adoration was palpable there, and it was enough to overwhelm her.

“Thank you”, she said in a small voice.

“I thought you deserved something special. You know, for cooking horrible meals every day” Leyla approached her slowly, still with eyes locked in an intense duel. “You would think as a doctor my main threat of illness would come from my patients, but you make a hard run for it” another step closer. “And besides, knowing my cooking skills it’s probably very bad. So we’re even” she continued rambling. Leyla finally took the final step towards Lauren, cupping her cheek and forcing her to shut up.

“You talk too much”, she said, resting on her tiptoes slightly to reach for her cheek and place a soft kiss there. “Thank you, truly”.

Lauren stood there, transfixed and unable to utter words. “Y-Yeah. It’s... nothing, really” she managed to muster.

Leyla tried to fight off a smile at Lauren’s awkwardness. During the course of her stay at Lauren’s- their- apatment, she had been quick to discover that she could turn Lauren, the hard-assed doctor and witty friend, into a rambling mess with well placed silences and touches. And naturally, she had immediately taken a liking to doing so as often as possible.

She turned around and sat at the table, staring down at her food and trying not to show her satisfaction at the amount of time it took Lauren to recompose herself and sit with her. She let Lauren pour some wine for herself, seeing as she didn’t look too enthused with the Lassi, and tried the Nihari. And, oh god, it certainly wasn’t like the one she enjoyed back home, but Lauren had undoubtedly achieved something here. Leyla couldn’t stop a moan from escaping her lips.

Lauren sat across from her, lips parted, staring at her like she was the only thing in the world. Her eyes slowly trailed to her lips, and Leyla thought she might burst if she didn’t break the moment soon. “Lauren, it’s- it’s perfect” said Leyla, and she meant it. It might not be like the one back home, but Lauren had managed to capture a new flavour, to redefine the very meaning home. She could get used to this.

Lauren looked back up at her, smile back in place. “Really? That’s new” she said, satisfied and proud of her achievement.

As they ate in silence, Lauren realised two things. One, she was definitely falling in love with Leyla Shinwari. And two, while Leyla had been her roommate for a few weeks already, it was only now that she felt like they were actually _living_ together... building a home.

Iggy:

“Hey, Iggs! I haven’t caught up with you in a while! How’s everything going?” asked Lauren as she entered Iggy’s office, taking the sofa and sprawling out on it.

Iggy stopped flicking through his charts, immediately knowing something was up. He could tell Lauren was properly glowing, but knew he would have to let this play out if he wanted to get any information out of his friend.

“Lauren! It’s great to see you. I’ve been great. I went to see a nutritionist, and I’ve been trying to join some virtual support groups for people with eating disorders. I still have a long road ahead of me, and I have to put in the work, but thanks for calling me out on my bullshit. Truly” he said sincerely.

Lauren perked up even more, rising to her feet and reaching around Iggy’s desk to hug him. “Iggy! That’s great! I’m so glad to hear it, and I’m so proud of you. And hey, you called me out on my bullshit when I was using, so it was only fair I did the same” she smiled.

Iggy returned her smile, glad to see that both of them were making amends and working to improve their lives.

He rose up to start walking to his next consult, not wanting this conversation to end but really needing to get there on time. After Lauren followed him along, curiosity finally got the best of him. “Okay, I have to ask... What’s gotten into you? You look like you just got to perform one of your supper cool surgeries or something. Anything new?” he asked.

“Well, I’m doing well” she said as they strolled down New Amsterdam’s corridors. Iggy waited patiently, letting Lauren open up at her own speed. “And... and I got a roommate!”

Iggy frowned, perplexed. He knew Lauren, knew how much she valued her space and how closed-off she could be, so he couldn’t fathom why getting a roommate would be something she’d want to do, let alone be the cause of her exuberant joy. “Wha... How?” he asked.

“Well, it’s a long story, really. She came in with a patient, and kind of guessed what was wrong with her, but it turned out it wasn’t a guess, cause she’s really a doctor, but obviously I didn’t know that” she started rambling, with Iggy finding it hard to follow along.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down” he said, though he was glad to see Lauren so excited about something.

“Yeah, sorry. Basically, she pulled off a successful needle decompression in my ED, which I now admit was pretty cool, I called security, she had no place to stay, used the hospital closet for a while... And now she’s living with me” finished Lauren, looking way too satisfied by her explanation.

“She... You... What?!” asked Iggy, dumbfounded.

“Yeah... She’s kind of a lot. In the good way” said Lauren, and it was clear to Iggy by now that she was positively smitten. At this new information, he changed tactics.

“Wow, Lauren, that’s a huge step! I’m happy for you, and so proud. I’d love to meet her sometime” he said.

“Yeah! That’d be great! I’m sure you’d love her, once you get past her cranky façade. You two would totally get along” replied Lauren excitedly.

Iggy knew how possessive Lauren was of her space, knew how much it meant for her to have friends meet even if she may not do it consciously. The fact that she was agreeing to let him meet her meant he was right; Lauren was smitten beyond recognition.

“Great! And what’s it like, living with this...” he trailed off, hoping to get a name out of Lauren for once.

“Leyla! It’s great. Yesterday I cooked her some Pakistani dinner, cause she missed it from back home, and then we watched a comedy and watered our big-ass tree. Don’t ask. It’s like she’s lived with me all along” she finished bashfully.

And Iggy had to assume Lauren knew how this sounded, how many lesbian stereotypes she was ticking off. So he replied, amusedly, “Tell me, Lauren, does this Leyla know you two are dating?” he said, a mischiveous twinkle in his eye.

Lauren stopped abruptly in the corridor, a horrified look on her face. Iggy repressed a laugh, was thrilled by Lauren’s new baby-gay side. He turned around to look at her, saw her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as she searched for a reply, but continued walking backwards. “Wait... do you?” he asked, now enjoying Lauren’s alarmed look. He turned around a corner, leaving a dumbfounded Lauren behind, and shouted, “Good luck!”

[helenazbmrskai]

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.  

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

 ***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.  

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - when you wear loose-fitting clothes

This work, 当你穿宽松的衣服, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it!

[ VICTOR ]

Whenever you’re idling at home, you love to wear loose-fitting clothes. Often, it’d be a large shirt which reaches your knees, which makes your frame look petite and especially adorable.

Having gotten used to your elegant office wear from Monday to Friday, Victor received a fright when he saw you in homewear during the first week of moving in with him.

“Have you been working a lot?” Victor is holding a newspaper while scooting to the side on the sofa to make space for you.

“It’s been okay. I've just been rushing from venue to venue, and writing two proposals under a certain investor’s pressure.” You tear open the yoghurt packet in your hand, tossing the cover into the bin.

“Mm, you should eat more.” He suddenly comments out of the blue.

You tense up as you grip the yoghurt packet. Ever since moving in with him, he’s been cooking dinner daily. Given the cooking skills of the manager of Souvenir, you’ve naturally gained 3kg in the span of a week. “Victor, are you trying to use reverse psychology on me?”

“No.” He sets down the newspaper. “Why did you ask that?”

Partly upset and indignant, you finish the yoghurt in one gulp. “I’ve put on 3kg.”

“...it looked like your clothes have gotten pretty loose.” 

He lapses into a moment of silence before adding in a comforting tone, “As long as you can still fit into your old clothes, you’re not fat. Also, eating more food with high protein levels can help you grow taller.”

“...”

Victor, are you saying that I’m short??

[ GAVIN ]

It’s only been a short while since you moved in with him, and you tend to forget that you aren’t the only person living in the house. Which is why you’re currently reading comic books on the sofa while wearing the clothes you’d normally wear when you’re alone at home.

“Cough. The air-conditioning in the house is pretty cold. It’s better to put on another layer of clothes.” Gavin steps out of the kitchen with a plate of watermelon chunks. When he sees your outfit, he retrieves a jacket and drapes it over you.

You’re stunned by this sudden action, and shoot him a look of confusion.

With crimson cheeks, Gavin gestures at your lower neck region.

Tilting your head downwards, you realise that the neckline of your shirt is huge - your shoulder is almost exposed, and someone looking from above would have a view of something which shouldn’t be seen.

“Ahh... I... I’ll go change into something else!” You hurriedly tug the jacket tighter around yourself, rushing upstairs.

Gavin lifts his right hand, warmth lingering on his fingertips from brushing the girl’s shoulder earlier. The more he dwells on it, the more he feels his face burn. He lowers his head to take a bite of an ice-cold watermelon, forcing himself to cool down.

“I won’t remind you next time.”

[ LUCIEN ]

The new shirt you bought was of a much looser-fit than you expected. Since the material is very comfortable and having an off-shoulder look isn’t bad, you decide not to go through the hassle of getting an exchange, and to use it as homewear instead.

Not having to work over the weekend, you and Lucien agree to spend the day cuddling against each other on the hanging chair in the balcony to read a book together.

Not too long after you begin reading, Lucien suddenly comments, “Would you like to change your clothes?”

“What’s wrong?” You turn the page of the book in his hands.

He adjusts his position. “Wearing this outfit makes it difficult for me to read in peace. After all, this scene is what I’d describe as a temptation.”

Following Lucien’s line of sight, you stare down at your own chest - the loose neckline has basically exposed it to broad daylight.

You hurriedly tug your shirt upwards. “I... I’m going to change into something else now!”

Lucien chuckles softly. “Slow down. Be careful not to fall.”

Just as you’re about to run into the house, you stagger and trip over the doorframe. You’re utterly embarrassed as you whip your head around. “Lucien!”

[ KIRO ]

After a bath, your favourite activity is to splay yourself out on the bed and scroll through your phone.

When Kiro casts a glance at you, he sees that you’re swinging your legs, and that this action has caused the hem of your outfit to ride upwards. Vaguely, he can see something he shouldn’t be seeing.

Setting down the bath towel, Kiro walks straight into the bathroom.

-

“Miss Chips, could you hand me the bath towel?” Kiro’s voice suddenly drifts from the bathroom. 

Sure enough, you see the bath towel that a certain careless person left at the edge of the bed.

You knock the door. “Kiro, can I come in?”

After receiving his permission, you twist the doorknob and walk in, placing the bath towel on the shelf outside the shower area. Just as you prepare to leave, the glass door swings outwards, and a dripping wet hand grabs your forearm, pulling you in.

“Ki-” 

Before you can even speak, your words are drowned by his scorching lips.

This kiss is embedded with a certain unruliness and predatoriness. As he plunders every inch of your mouth roughly, his hands - one at the back of your head and the other on your waist - keep you firmly locked in his arms.

“When I saw Miss Chips’ legs just now, it made me want to gobble you up~”

[ SHAW ]

After catching Shaw’s eyes flitting to you for the nth time, your curiosity finally snaps. “What are you looking at?!”

His gaze sweeps across your chest. “Have you deteriorated these days?”

You frown at this strange question. “Just say what you want to say directly.”

Shaw gets straight to the point. “I think you’ve gotten smaller.” 

...

Considering the area he was looking at just now, you instantly know what exactly he’s referring to. 

Enraged from humiliation, you exclaim, “It’s just that my shirt is loose-fitting! It’s loose-fitting!”

“Is that so?” Shaw teases. When he sees that you’re fuming, he suddenly leans in closer to you, causing you to step backwards instinctively.

“O-of course! Don’t come so close to me!”

“I even planned to help you with that. What do you think?”

–

More translated and original works: here

-

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the author

[sweetandsourfics]

California Friends II

Billy Hargrove x Reader | Smut | Season 3 | 2/3 | Masterlist 

Summary: Summer Fun and Summer Lovein'. Billy's Cali flame fulfils her promise and comes to stay with him over the summer. A week has passed since their little reunion. 

Warnings: Smut, Explicit language.

Word Count: 1,894

Author’s Note: Here is part 2! I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear feedback from you all. Let me know if you want a part 3.

California Friends tend to be more on the longer end of my stories as I want to do a bit of Summer fun that isn’t straight up smut. This is a long one!

Pervious «  » Next

The thin checker blue sheet lays defeated on the floor. You've awoken to an empty bed, and for the first time since you have arrived, you are grateful for the extra space. You’ve missed Billy dearly of course, but that boy radiated heat like he was the sun.

The air is muggy with the Indiana heat, the fan is working overtime trying to beat it. Even only with cherry print panties as the sole item on your body, your skin feels feverish.

Getting up you slip on a tie-dye shirt and a pair of blue athletic shorts. Strolling into the kitchen, in need of something cold and refreshing.

The strawberry blonde woman stands at the kitchen counter, cutting up an assortment of Summer fruit. "Morning," Susan greets cheerfully. 

You smile back, "morning, I didn't think anyone was home." 

"I've only just got back from the shops, the boys are at work and Max has just left to meet up with friends," she explains.

Nodding in acknowledgement, you open the fridge basking in its cool touch before reaching for the orange juice.

In a shy tone, Susan adds. "Oh! Billy said that you liked cherries, so I made sure to grab you some."

A squeak of excitement bounces up from your throat. "Thank you!"  

Susan is a sweet lady, always doing what she thinks is best for her daughter and her detached family. If Neil wasn't such an ass, their family dynamic would be peaceful and a well-oiled machine. Things haven’t been too aggressive in the Hargrove residence, Billy commented that it’s only because you are here.

"What do you have planned for today?" Susan asks, handing you a small bowl of watermelon, strawberries, mango and peach with yoghurt on top.

"Thanks. I think I'll go to the pool."  you mutter, moving to the breakfast table.

Susan joins you at the table. "I think Billy would like that." she smiles.

The two of you chat over the bowls of fruit. Before Susan had to carry on with the household jobs and you needed to get ready for your outing to Billy's place of work.

The joyful cries of children can be heard from the parking lot. Entering the gated area quickly spotting the permed head of Billy, sitting all high and mighty on the lifeguard chair. You plop your pink beach bag onto the plastic chair.  The pool water looks cool and inviting, but it’s no beach.

Removing your denim shorts, you’re dressed in a simple black one-piece bathing suit.

You didn’t even have the chance to lounge the Sun-bleached plastic for the poolside gossip reaches your attention. 

"Doesn't he look amazing?"  A brunette giggles to her group of housewive friends.

Another snaps out of a daydream. "Who Billy?"  

"Of course." The brunette snips.

"He is, isn't he?" The daydreamer giggles. 

The housewives adjust their breast, shifting from one alluring position to another, all in hopes to get the much younger lifeguard's attention.

"You should see him when he teaches. The kids" The blonde gushes.  "I don't understand how he can look that good at eighteen!”

You snort in disbelief. Billy isn't a good teacher, he has a short fuse and kids only make that fuse shorter. He’s definitely a hit with the housewives. 

You usually aren’t jealous, but you haven’t had Billy to yourself all year, and you already had to deal with Hawkin girls blatantly flirting with him in front of you! Now housewives are trying to get his attention. As petty as it may be these ladies need a reminder of what they are competing against.

Running your fingers through your hair, fluffing up your soft locks and adjusting the sunnies on your nose.

Walking past the group of gossips, hips swaying. Earning displeased scoffs, guarantee they will be gossiping about you as soon as you're out of earshot. Strutting up to the lifeguard chair, Billy's eyes move from the pool to you.

You smile sweetly.  "Hey!"

"Hey, hot stuff." He grins, chewing his spearmint gum.

Climbing up the lifeguard chair, you push your sunglasses to the top of your head. A devious smirk playing on your full lips. Even with his eyes hidden behind the aviator sunglasses, you can feel his eyes devouring you. The tight-fitting bathing suit hugs your breast, the scallop hem framing them perfectly.

All he wants to do his pamper them with his mouth, to hear your breathy moans as he massages them. He feels like king-pin, sitting high upon his throne with a hot piece of Californian ass.

"What are you up to?"  Billy smirks, his eyes stuck on your breast.

"Just seeing how you're going. Must be lonely up here." You say, honeyed.

Billy chuckles his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He knows that you are playing for his attention. Leaning in he steals a kiss, tasting your usual cherry lip balm. 

Breaking the kiss you biting Billy’s bottom lip.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Princess." He warns a grin splitting across his face. "I finish in ten minutes, think you can entertain yourself till then?"

You peck his soft lips. Leaving him wanting more of your flavoured lips."I can find something to do.” With a final kiss, you make your way down the ladder.

You can feel him taking in how the tight bathing suit barely covers the swell of your ass. 

The  housewives Have stopped talking so loudly about Billy now they’ve moved onto sending you disapproving looks. Seems like your little show has rubbed them up the wrong way as you can feel their eyes burning holes into the back of your head as you wait in line at the canteen. 

Paying for a cherry popsicle, you walk back to your chair. Relaxing under the shade of the colourful umbrella. Billy struts over, confidence rolling off him.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he greets the chattering housewives. The women swoon gushing over him in return.

The golden-haired boy gives you a half-grin winking at you has he looks over the top of his aviators, taking a spot on your chair. 

He bites his lip, stopping a moan as he watches your pretty lips suck on the red popsicle. 

Looking at your watch, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. “You have seven minutes left.”

“I’m still working, just checking on Patreon seeing how she’s enjoying herself.”  Billy runs his hand along your thigh, squeezing it gently.

“I doubt that’s the real reason you come over.” You giggle. Poping the sweet between your lips. 

Billy watches intensely as you finish off your refreshing treat. Smearing the red stickiness over your lips. Fuck your dirty in the sweetest ways. His fingers inching closer to your concealed womanhood, he pushes a finger at your clothed entrance.

"Billy" you try to keep your voice firm. Instead, it comes out weak and full of need. 

“Yeah?” Billy’s lips hover inches from yours. He presses his thumb on your clit, ripping a sharp gasp from you.

You’re an exhibitionist deep down, and Billy has only been able to play with your inner exhibitionist twice.  “Shall we take this somewhere more private?” 

A wanton look in your bright eyes. Fiddling with the golden medallion around his neck. A gift you sent him for his 18th.  “Where do you have in mind?” You question. 

Billy takes your small hand in his. The two of you walk around the edge of the fence going unnoticed by unwanted eyes. He guides you into the small storeroom. 

Closing the door only light is from the dying lightbulb, and whatever sunlight can creep in from the buildings seems.  Billy pulls you against his him, planting a kiss to the base of your neck, his hands smoothed up your sides. 

"This little number made your tits look so good." He mumbles against your neck. Massaging your breast pulling soft needy moans from you. Fingers hooking under the straps, peeling the swimsuit from your skin. 

Billy reaches around, a hand sliding a hand to your thigh. Your breath hitches as he runs a finger through your wet folds with no warning, he pushes two fingers in your entrance. Curling his finger, hitting that magic spot. 

You whimper leaning your head back.

"You've got to be quite Princess."  He grunts mouthing at your neck. 

Pushing a second finger in, moving slowly. Pressing his thumb to your clit. You cry out in pleasure, Billy clamps his free hand over your mouth, to silence your cries.

Your thighs shake, reaching up your fingers weave through his hair. Fisting a handful of his golden curls. Your clench around his fingers and just like that while you linger on the edge of bliss. 

Billy draws his fingers out, leaving you empty and with a heavy ache. Spinning you around, he winks before meeting your red-stained lips in a passionate kiss. You cup his face, he groans as you push your tongue into his mouth.

He’s in a hurry. He typically lets you cum once or twice before he gets to the headliner.

Hurridly you move your hands to the elastic waistband of the red swim shorts, pushing them down. You whisper, “fuck me.” breath fanning his lips. 

He pushes himself into you, pinning you against the shelving. Lifting you up your legs wrapping around his waist. Prodding your entrance with his leaking tip.

"Billy~." You scold. He’s teasing you.

"You're so needy," Billy complains. His teeth graze the fragile skin of your neck.

“Billy please!”

With a deep chuckle, his low and husky voice whispers in your ear. “You just had to ask nicely.” He grins pushes into you. 

You moan, nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out. He groans pleasure and pain mixing together.   

Moving slowly as he filled you. Whimpering your back arches. Pleasure pulsating through your veins. 

You claw at his back, begging him to move faster. 

“Little Minx,” he hissed in your ear. Billy reared back before slamming into you. He moves widely ripping a scream from your pretty lips. The wooden shelving creaks with very harsh thrust.

You are definitely going to have shelf-like bruises along your back.

He tenderly squeezes your behind. Pulling away, watching your desire fule features.  The way your lip curls up as you fall apart against him. A detail that he's never going to forget.

He slides a hand between your bodies. His thumb working against the most sensitive spot of your body. Your moans grow louder, threatening to expose the two of you. "Remember, Princess, you need to be quiet."

 You didn't need to tell Billy that you were cumming as the involuntary shivering of your legs was a dead give away. With an audible whimper, you come around him.

He growls at the sweet noise that fall from your lips as you come. His chest heaves as he chases his own orgasm. 

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass as he comes. A satisfied giggle leaves your lips, only to be silenced when Billy's brush over yours in a gentle kiss. 

Beads of sweat roll down your flushed skin. "I'm definitely going to lose my job because of you." He whispers back, biting the shell of your ear.

[skelffricat]

Uppa (Mother)Hoods

I have never given birth, yet I have made three children. At the cosy NCT* group in the Ormeau Library, where I went with my first child (when I managed to get up early enough) I felt ashamed of this. The mothers there were Proper Mothers, with scars in their vaginas; tits out for milking; organic rice cakes for snacks; and great pride in their beautiful birth stories. They were horrific to me (the stories, not the mothers). I couldn’t talk about my birth experience without crying. I even made my GP cry, telling her about it. My eldest was whisked out of my unconscious middle in a now-derelict hospital in South Wales, while my legs were stirruped up (I once made the mistake of visiting the Erotic Museum in Amsterdam- the Sex Museum is better- whilst very stoned. One tends to be stoned, in Amsterdam, I suppose. The floors were confusingly slanted, giving me a sinking feeling, and the top floor’s “sexy” scene was a hospital one. Mannequins in stirrups do NOT turn me on. I had to immediately leave. I may have wept.) There was a student in the hospital room, with horror on his young face, gawping between my legs, and a nurse was urging the doctor to wait for me to go fully under the anaesthetic before he sliced my layers open with the scalpel. My eldest’s father had already been bade to leave. I think he signed something as he left. Signed our lives away?

I learnt later, whilst perusing my eldest’s little red book**, that her lung had collapsed. (I asked why they hadn’t told me. Oh, but it’s fairly common, they said. One in ten thousand. Not worth mentioning, really. Wtf?!) She had pooed in my womb (how rude!) and inhaled some of her own meconium. Meconium. Meconium. I had already learnt that word as a teen, from the band James, in their brilliant song, Gold Mother.

Then I had three friends- well, six, really- who had had stillborn children, at full term, and stopped feeling ashamed of how my child had made her clumsy entrance to the world, and merely relieved that she was alive and kicking, and proud of her. The biggest, reddest, loudest, baby in SCBU***. (“How will I know which one is mine?” I had croaked. Then, it was so obvious, I’d laughed.) I can also feel smug about not pissing myself on trampolines, or every time I sneeze, like most of the women I know who’ve had natural births. Perhaps I’ll start an Unnatural Childbirth Trust. Do your pelvic floor exercises. Now. 

TRIGGER WARNING: I am going to talk about teenage suicide.

Now my youngest child has died, by suicide, just short of her 15th birthday, and I try to feel relief that she is at peace, and that I got 15 glorious years with her. If I think about birthdays like the Chinese people do, I can call it 16****. Almost a woman.

I found her. She arranged that I would, I suppose because she thought I could cope with it better than her father could (she was right, of course. She was usually right. She was very wise. I miss her wisdom, and her unfailing ability to open any jar I couldn’t. She was strong.) I don’t know how to feel about that. People keep telling me that I’m strong, but it seems strangely shameful to be strong at this time (and I still can’t open jars). Perhaps the anti-depressants are working too well? I wonder. I worry that my blasé attitude to death made her decision easier (though I understand that it is pointless to worry about these things now. It won’t bring her back.) We tended to talk about death a lot. Some of my friends had died by suicide, and I would discuss with my mother, her granny, around the children, how suicide was no longer a shameful thing. How you shouldn’t say “committed” in front of it, because it hasn’t been a crime in the UK since 1961. It shouldn’t be a crime anywhere. We went to funerals in brightly coloured clothes. I celebrated dead people’s wonderful lives with them. 

She was hanging from the trapeze I’d had built for her, in our quiet back garden, from a hammock that I had bought for her. I had wondered about the hammock being out there in winter, and thought it was tied in a funny way, a few days before, but not done anything about that. I try not to regret that either. My logic comforts me thus: at least these things could be taken from the garden, and destroyed (the hammock) or used again (the trapeze) and I didn’t have to cut down any trees. I said to myself- she would have done it anyway, somewhere else, at some time. She did it with her things. She used to do amazing things on them. She could soar and swoop gracefully from that trapeze, and even the hammock got strung up high and spun from. 

I had been drinking the night before with my lovely Scottish lover. We watched Wild at Heart, and drank red wine. I thoroughly christened the new bright yellow carpet with a full glass of it, oops. Tried to clean it with a sock. My youngest child was baking in the kitchen. She made a vegan chocolate cake. At one point I went in to her and she was sat on the floor, looking at the cake in the oven. Her head was practically in there. When I was a child, we had electric, not gas, and I thought that people who killed themselves by putting their heads in the oven were cooking themselves to death. How did all the heat not escape, I wondered? How long would that take?! Those thoughts went through my head as I looked at her. She had attempted suicide before, around a month ago. We had been to the hospital. She convinced them (and me) that she wasn’t suicidal, and was sent home. I am not angry at this. What is the point in being angry? She is gone. She was a good actress. A cry for help? She had been to CAMHS that very day. I felt hopeful. She was making cake! She was going to try school tomorrow, in her own comfortable clothes. She hadn’t been for ages. She was too anxious, about uniform, about what to learn, about the future. I asked her what she was doing and we laughed about her proximity to the oven.

He and I ate the cake, later, with natural yoghurt. It was delicious. We called her to join us and she wouldn’t. The last time I saw my youngest daughter alive I was thinking about her killing herself, in a jocular way. Then she did. In a jugular way. Fuck, sorry. I find myself saying the most inappropriate things. 

Sometimes I imagine her last breath. Or dream of disembodied heads. I wonder did she change her mind at the last minute, or feel resolute, and pleased with herself, her escape? Did she make a noise? Did she call out to me, to anyone? I guess you probably can’t call out...? At first, the shock was so severe, I couldn’t think about it without feeling a massive surge of pure panic. I saw my face in the mirror that morning, and it was ashen grey. Later, my eldest described the sensation as a perpetual feeling of dread. Impending doom. Yes, I said, like we’re waiting for something horrific to happen! Then we would realise it already had. My heart thumped so viciously hard inside of me, it felt like it was going to jump right out of my chest. Proving its aliveness. Until I calmed it with (mostly) legal drugs. In the next few weeks, I liked to listen to hearts beating, breath flowing. People being alive, alive- oh. 

My lover had left that night, as he was to go on a walk early the next day. I am so relieved that he had. He has his own demons. He never went on that walk, of course, but at least he didn’t have to find her. He left at around 3am. Her bedroom door was closed. 

I awoke just before 6am. I’m not sure why. I expect I needed water, because I’d been drinking wine. Her door was open. The light was on, and I could see her bed was empty. I got water, and went to her room and saw there was a note on the bed. It was written in green biro, on an A4 file page, folded twice. There was a little cheeky red smiley face with its tongue out on the outside. It was a suicide note. Full of love. Was it a suicide note? So much love. It can’t be a suicide note. I started to look for her, around the house. It was still very dark. I was switching on the light in a room and looking around it and switching the light off and looking in another room. I couldn’t find her. I looked in some rooms twice. I even opened the compartment under her bed. I looked in the cupboard under the stairs, like Harry Potter’s room, that she and her friend had once shut themselves into, to see each other’s glow-in-the-dark bicycle helmets. Where is she? I thought. This is the worst game of Hide-and-Go-Seek ever! Perhaps it’s not a suicide note. Perhaps she has run away? I got dressed. 

Then I found her, in our dark and silent back garden. As she was on the far side of the trapeze to me, her feet were level with the safety mat under the trapeze. I thought for a second that she was just standing there, very still. I was still hoping it was all a joke. A mistake. One of our white garden chairs was beside her. When I realised she was hanging, I swung her slightly. This movement haunts me. Her face... her face was distorted. Her tongue lolling out. I hope you never have to see that on anyone. Especially not your child. My friend hanged herself years ago and my daughter’s face reminded me of her dead one. So, I was thinking, she is dead, in one layer of my mind, and in another, I was thinking, I shall save her. I was calling her, and caressing her freezing face. She was so cold. Dead cold. I ran into the kitchen, got a serrated knife. I am unsure of the order of things. Had I already phoned 999? Was I trying to talk on the phone whilst doing all of this? I cut rapidly through the hammock- it was easy. She flopped into the muck. It was so mucky. I was trying to pull her by the arms onto the trapeze mat, away from the cloying mud, but she was a dead weight. Dead dead dead. No help there. I couldn’t move her. She was so ungainly. I felt inept and weak. I tried to put her in the recovery position. Then I thought, oh wait, no, I need to do chest compressions- I can’t do that on a soft mat anyway. I kept dropping the phone in the mud, and the man on the end of the line was almost shouting at me. 

I put her on her back and was doing chest compressions and he was asking, “is she breathing?” 

She seemed to breathe when I pressed her. I thought, oh! She’s alive? I kept pressing, and dropping the phone in the mud, and I was all mucky too, and she wasn’t breathing- I was just pushing air through her- but I had a glimmer of hope, and the 999 man was counting with me through my mucky mobile phone, and I heard the ambulance coming, and I said to him, I have to let them in! and he said, NO! Keep pressing! I said, I have to, my garden is inaccessible, and I let them in. Two ambulances, filling my dark quiet street with noise and lights and hope. 

They took over. They asked for towels to kneel on in the muck. I’d never thought of that- I got them, as quick as I could. I paced, and watched, and walked away then watched again, and the cat jumped and wheedled around everything. Did he see her die? I wondered? Why didn’t you come get me, cat, like Lassie, or Skippy, or fucking Flipper!? She must have shut the kitchen door and kept him away. They tried and tried, and I paced. They did the defibrillators. Then her breasts became visible and I baulked at the indignity of it, whilst knowing it was entirely necessary, and just... human. They did the adrenaline shots. Four of them, taking turns. Is there any hope? I asked one. Not really, he said. We’re trying because she is young. She’s been there a while. At least I could feel less guilty about getting dressed. I kept thinking, why did I get dressed? I got dressed to go find my dead daughter. 

Was it starting to get light? It was going to be a beautiful morning, I thought, what a pity she can’t see it. I changed out of my mucky clothes. Layered up. It was so cold. There was time, while they tried to save her.

They tried for 20 minutes before they pronounced her dead. There was mud everywhere. They put the mucky towels in a shopping basket I had outside to light fires in. The ambulance people all told me they were very sorry for my loss.

I don’t like euphemisms for death. 

Saying I’ve lost her implies I could find her again. I suppose I find her in my dreams. Though I dreamt of different, unknown, children last night. Two little mixed race boys that I was minding in the (huge dream version) of the Carnival Centre. They kept running away and messing about. At one point we were all on top of a huge concrete topped lift (elevator), that lurched away from beneath us so that we flew into the air. It was falling faster than us. How is that possible? We couldn’t catch up with gravity. Griefity? We weren’t falling fast enough. I keep dreaming of losing children. Not children dying. I dreamt I lost my son the other night too. He was led into a room I wasn’t allowed in. I could see him through the window of the door I couldn’t go through. Then he went out of my sight and I woke up, shaking, horrified.

I recently found my daughter alive again, in a dream. She was very wee- three or four. Before her first haircut. She was being really bold and naughty. She kept running away from me, and she had pooed herself a little, and was rubbing the poo on things, half on purpose. I was trying to catch her and clean her and her hands. We were on holiday? Maybe on a big ferry? I think we had to catch a flight. She had run into a swimming pool room and climbed into a pile of boxes and upset the boxes, and pulled another little girl on top of her and hurt her too. I was trying to pull them out, without hurting them, without losing my temper. I was really trying hard to keep my temper. I was thinking as I woke, if this keeps up, she'll be taken off me. It was so vivid that as I came to, I thought, I must text the Woodcarver; I must text my youngest daughter, to see if she's ok. It was quite a while before I awoke properly and thought, of course she's not ok, she's dead. She's already away. Then I got upset, and cried, but I was glad I got upset because I've been taking anti-depressants and not feeling anything much, so it was a relief to feel sad. I accidentally hadn't taken any for a couple of days at that point.  

Saying she has passed annoys me more. Passed what? Her exams? Wind? (That’s always funny.) She has passed tense? She is past tense.

It wasn’t until she was pronounced officially dead that I phoned her father, the Woodcarver. I thought, there is no point in giving him false hope like mine. He made a loud guttural noise, like a wounded animal, on the other end of the line. It woke my son, who was staying with him. He thought his father was dying. Wrong relative.

It was a brightening cold morning by now. The police came. Her father came. He kicked the white chair she had used, and broke it. This satisfied and disturbed me in equal measure. He hit his head off the sink. I was frightened by him, despite the police presence. I was frightened for him.

The police were very kind. A man and a woman. The man was comfortingly camp. They had masks on. There’s a pandemic, it is said. They took their hats off, but left the masks on. No-one else really bothered with masks, for the next while. I was fascinated by the police officers’ dark green peaked hats- one for boys, and one for girls- on my kitchen table. I made myself tea and put sugar in it. I never take sugar in tea. I’d heard it was good for shock.

My dead daughter’s father’s brother came. He told me to phone my mum. I said I would wait until she normally got up. What is the sense of breaking your last peaceful night’s sleep early, to find out something that won’t be any less dreadful half an hour later? He had brought my son; my daughter’s father’s mother; my daughter’s father’s girlfriend. This is starting to read like Anna Burns’ The Milkman. My daughter’s grandma was also fascinated by the police officers’ hats. She said that one wanted mending, and she wished she had a needle and thread. I didn’t think to fetch her one. I asked if it is true that pregnant women are allowed to pee in police officers’ hats, but they hadn’t heard that before. I kept checking the time on my phone, every few minutes, and drinking sweet tea. I was waiting for the real morning to begin. Nothing has felt real ever since, though.

When I did ring my mother at 8am, she didn’t wake. My little brother did, though. He went and told her in person, and when she arrived, she was bawling, and had forgotten her glasses. She looked tiny. She was due to see everyone the next day. She had been quarantining as she was not long back from Spain. I deeply regret not bringing the children to wave at her in the garden. She hadn’t seen them for months. 

We were flitting between my house and our friends’ house round the corner. My garden was now a crime scene. My daughter’s father didn’t like this. He wanted to hold her lifeless body’s hand. At that point, I thought I never wanted to see her lifeless body again, but I changed my mind a few days later, and that was alright. I saw her in her casket and her face looked... Dead, but not distorted any more. She looked peaceful, I suppose, and very beautiful, in a sad way. She was surrounded by toys, trinkets, food she loved. Dried mango. Finn and Jake. Her elder sister tucked her pride flag around her. She hadn’t seen her for ten months. 

There were many people now, milling inside, and out in the sunshine, between the two houses. The neighbours were out and about, too. I had made horrendous phone calls to a workmate and a couple of friends and the word was spreading. I had phoned my eldest daughter in Wales. To spread the word. The bad word. The worst words. I have had Joshua Burnside’s song, The Good Word, in my head a lot, this last while.

“Last night I dreamed

We were running for our lives

From robots in the jungle

Helicopters in the sky

But the ground opened up and I

Couldn't save her

Couldn't save her

Couldn't save her again

Oh no

No sir

Not this time

Glory hallelujah.”

My lover came down and was of the utmost comfort to me. When the coroner had been and they were to take her away, the Woodcarver’s biggest brother- he that had been there first- came to me in the other house and asked did I want to say goodbye to her body? I said, no, I do not, that is not my daughter any more.

I sought comfort in words. We read poems on her bed. 

Various people told us of a humanist celebrant. She offered to help us for free, and she did, and I am so grateful. 

A friend gave me valium. At some point, someone went to the offy. More and more people came. The lovely camp police officer returned, with my daughter’s bank card, and people panicked, because of Covid, but he didn’t say anything. He only wanted to help.

The next while was a blur...

*National Childbirth Trust- it was the only secular one. I also enjoyed the ones in churches, with their cream teas, and knitted religious folks, trying not to try to convert you and yours. It perhaps could’ve been called the Natural Childbirth Trust, because they kept banging on about it...

**The NHS issue these red books as personal child health records. 

***SCBU- the Special Care Baby Unit. They pronounced it Skiboo, in their lovely Welsh lilts. My doctor looked like a child. She had been working for 24 hours straight, and was still charming and kind.

****Age reckoning originated in China, where it's believed that a baby's age starts from its time in the mother's womb. The practice is also common in Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Hong Kong and Vietnam.

[sheeple]

The intern | 6: Morning mess

GIFS NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): intern!au / fluff / mild angst Group(s): NCT / Red Velvet Pairing(s): Moon Taeil x fem!reader Summary: The new Elysion Publishings intern is the youngest they ever had. It’s not a problem until she grabs the attention of the IT guy. Warning(s): Age-gap of five years [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]

“Okay, so, it may not be the cleanest at the moment. I had a busy week and no time to clean”, says Taeil before opening the front door. 

He lets me go in first before locking the front door behind us before taking off his shoes and opening the door connecting the hall and the living room.

A fluffy thing sneaks between the crack of the door and rushes towards Taeil. A big smile spreads on his face as he is petting the walking cloud. 

“Ah~ Bong Bong-ie. Did you miss me?”, he questions the dog while squishing her cheeks. Bong Bong licks his hands as a response while waggling her tail. She really reminds me of Peanut.

Bong Bong suddenly turns her attention towards me and I smile, dropping down to pet her. She walks hesitantly towards, sniffing my outstretched hand. 

Bong Bong looks me up and down, before turning towards Taeil, giving him the ‘are you serious’ look. He nods slightly and Bong Bong turns her head towards me, lunging at me and smothering me with little licks all over my face.

I let out a squeal and fall backwards, my back hitting the door and my butt landing on the ground. Bong Bong stands over me as she sniffs all over my face and especially in my ear.

“Bong Bong!”, scolds Taeil his dog as he off me by her collar. 

As I stand up and brush the dog hairs off my clothes and butt, I say, “don’t worry. I’m used to dog-kisses and sniffles.” I smile and undo the ties of my sneakers, placing them neatly in the reck next to Taeil’s other shoes. 

“Let me grab you an extra pair of slippers. Feel free to roam around, I’ll be right back”, he tells me before speeding off, the sound of footsteps hurrying up a pair of stairs being very loud through the apartment.

I walk further in and look around in amazement. 

When you walk in, you look right at the amazing view the enormous window give of this little part of Seoul. Taeil has his tv-stand against the windows and the couch facing them. 

Behind the couch is a relatively big kitchen for an apartment in Seoul. He has the basic appliances like the fridge, stove, and microwave against the wall as the sink is on the other side in a kitchen island with bar stools, the dinner table behind that.

“Amazing view, right?”, says Taeil with a smile in his voice as he walks down the stairs, which probably lead towards his bedroom. 

I turn around with a big grin. “It’s wonderful. Your house is just great overall.”

His ears turn slightly red as he walks towards me with a pile of clothes and fluffy slippers on top of them. “I also fetched you some clothes to sleep in. The bathroom is next to the front door, left.” He points at the hallway and I smile, taking the pile of clothes from him and I walk towards the bathroom. 

Bong Bong follows me as I get into the bathroom and lays on the floor with her head between her front paws, her eyes following my every move. 

I let out a giggle when I put on the baseball shorts and sweater as they’re a bit too big for me, just like the slippers. 

Once I emerge from the bathroom followed by the fluffy cloud, Taeil already has grabbed a pillow and blankets and made up a makeshift bed on the couch. 

He looks up when he hears the scuffing of the slippers against the floor. He blinks a couple times as he sees me, his mouth slightly agape. 

“Something... wrong?”, I ask concerned and look down, making sure I’m wearing the clothes correctly and nothings crooked or ruined. 

“Yeah... Eh─ no. Anyways, I made you a bed on the couch because I knew if I would offer my bed, you would refuse and throw a fit until you finally would sleep on the couch.”

I giggle and fluff up the pillow. “You know me too well.” 

“Well, if you need something, just ask, okay?”, Taeil says with raised eyebrows as I nod. 

“Actually”, I say and stop him from turning around. “Do you maybe have an extra charger for my phone? I accidentally left mine at home this morning and it’s almost dead”, I say, scratching the back of my neck while pressing on the home button, a huff leaving my lips as I see there’s only twenty per cent left.

“Of course”, smiles Taeil and walks towards the tv-stand, grabbing a charger out of one of the baskets and plugging it in the wall next to the couch. 

“Here you go”, he smiles and gives me the end and I take it, thanking him while plugging my phone in. 

“Goodnight, (Y/n)”, says Taeil with a tired smile before walking up the stairs. 

“Sleep tight, Taeil”, I reply and take place on the couch. 

I sigh deeply and let the events of today replay in mind. A deep blush creeps on my face again as I think of how closely Taeil and I have been today. 

I feel my heart rapidly beat in my chest and lay a hand on top of it. Don’t do this now, heart. I am not ready for that.

Once the first rays of sunshine come through the blinds, they hit my bare legs which peaked out underneath the blanket, spreading a comfortable warmth across them. A wet tongue licks all over my cheeks and I groan, turning away so I lay on my back and I place an arm over my eyes. 

Bong Bong nudges me again and I turn my head, raising my eyebrows at the walking cloud. She looks at me before turning around and walking towards the front door, scratching it as a sign she wants out. 

I let another soft groan and look up towards the second floor balustrade, searching for any sign of Taeil. 

 I get up from the make-shift bed, the blanket falling on the ground next to the slippers. I shove my feet into them and yawn, stretching my arm above my head and crack my shoulder joints, wincing at the sound of my bones popping. 

I walk over towards the stairs and quietly climb up, peering over the edge to see if Taeil’s awake. But what I see is a very cutely sleeping Taeil, curled up in a ball and hugging his pillow. 

I chuckle softly, my mind wondering if he would engulf me the same if we would cuddle. 

No! Bad (Y/n)! Bad thoughts! No time for crushes and fluffy thoughts.

I shake my head, quickly walking down the stairs before I get any more crazy thoughts. 

While pulling on my sneakers, I search around for Bong Bong’s lease and a spare pair of keys to take with me. 

After some snooping around, I find them both and exit the apartment, Bong Bong happily pattering next to me as I push in my earphones and playing some lo-fi playlist, skipping down the stairs as I slide my phone into the pockets of the baseball shorts.

I quickly find the park nearby and walk around, letting Bong Bong do her deeds before returning back.

When I enter again, the apartment is still dark so I just assume Taeil’s still asleep. Jeez, what a sleepy boy.

After releasing Bong Bong from her lease and putting on the slippers again, I walk towards the kitchen and begin to cook up some breakfast for the both of us. 

My phone plings, notifying me I have a message and I look.

I take another peek upstairs and see that he’s still asleep, only this time he lays flatly on his belly, his cheeks mushed against the mattress and hair in his eyes. 

Deciding that I will wait until he’s up to eat, I grab my laptop and get stationed at one of the barstools, pulling my headphones out of my backpack and finishing some freelance stuff I’ve been working on. 

After around half an hour, I think, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and I look up with a smile. 

“Oh, you’re awake”, he says, his voice coarse from just waking up as he rubs his eyes. 

I giggle softly as I look at my phone for the time. “Only since eight am”, I say and Taeil turns around, looking at the clock which shows that it’s currently half-past nine. 

Taeil frowns. “Something happened?”

I shake my head with a smile. “Nothing big. Bong Bong just wanted to go for a walk.” I look at the dog that lays at my feet and pet her fluffy ears.

His cheeks head up. “I am so sorry. Bbong-ie is a princess sometimes and when she wants a walk, she wants it now.”

A giggle escapes my lips as I slide off my chair, onto my knees and squish Bong Bong’s cheeks together. “And right you are, little princess.”

Taeil is at loss of words as he watches me interact with his dog. In his eyes, the cutest thing ever. 

“You really adore dogs, don’t you”, he says, smiling softly and squads down while scratching behind Bong Bong’s ear, her head leaning to the side.

“Well, I told you I have dogs back home and I just miss them. So Bong Bong gets double the affection I would normally give a dog.” I face Taeil and he nods slowly, probably recalling what I said last night.

“Yeah, a Beagle and a Frenchie, right?”

I nod and get up, feeling the blood slowly flowing back into my legs. “Yup. Also, by the way, I made breakfast.” I point towards the table and he turns around, wonder fill his eyes.

“You... you made breakfast?”, he questions while walking towards the table, looking around the different foods on the table. 

“I hope I made it correctly. To be frank, I have never eaten a Korean breakfast.” I scratch the back of my head. “Google said this is typical so... enjoy?”

Taeil takes place on the table and I sit on the chair in front of him, watching his face carefully. 

“This is... this is absolutely amazing, (Y/n)!”, he exclaims, taking the chopsticks in his hands and immediately digging in. “Holy damn”, he mumbles with a full mouth. “This is so good, oh my god.” He holds a hand in front of his mouth as his eyes roll back in delight. 

A blush creeps on my face and I also begin to eat. My eyebrows raise as it is indeed pretty good. 

“But what do you eat in the morning then?”, questions Taeil when he grabs his cup of coffee. 

“Hmm...”, I hum, “back home I eat a bowl of yoghurt with sprinkles, strawberries in the summer when my mom gets them. Or toasted bread with cheese, if I’m lazy some Nutella or so.”

“Can you function on only pudding?”

As I nod, I stuff a fried egg in my mouth. “I would eat something again around ten so it’s not that bad”, I shrug. 

“At school?” 

A hum leaves my lips. “My first break of the three.”

Taeil smiles and leans with his chin on his hand, a chuckle leaving his lips. “It’s funny how I’ve heard you talk so much about your home and friends, but almost nothing about your parents. Why’s that?”

I lick my lips. “My mom and I are really close. I can talk to her about anything and nothing is too weird. But with my dad...” A sigh leaves my lips. “I love him and he really loves me, we just have similar personalities and that clashes at times.”

Taeil reaches across the table and grabs my hand, rubbing circles on the top. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell.”

I give him a sad but thankful smile, squeezing his hand before releasing it, running a hand through my hair. 

“Okay, happier subject. What are you going to do today.” Taeil claps his hands together, sending me a smile.

“Firstly, I am going to do my groceries. I’m almost out of toilet paper and cereal. And then, around one, I’m gonna hang out with a friend of mine.”

“Mind if I tag along with you?”, he asks and I raise my eyebrows. “The grocery shopping”, he quickly adds, a chuckle in his voice. 

“Sure, I guess. But we have to drop by my house so I can change in something more appropriate for the public eye.”

Taeil’s eyes look at my appearance in his oversized clothes. “I think you look great.”

I look away with a slight smile. “Yeah sure. I can’t keep walking around in your sweater all day─”

“─I don’t mind”, he cuts me off, a blush tinting his face.

My own cheeks also heat up and I chew on my bottom lip. “We’re... I can’t do that...”, I whisper.

He licks his lips, the air between us awkward before nodding. “Yes, you are right. Let’s just drop by your place so you can change.”

The car ride to my apartment and the walk towards the supermarket has been filled with silence and secretive glances. 

As we’re standing still in front of a red traffic light, I turn towards Taeil and grab his arm. “I am sorry for what I said earlier. You’ve been nothing but nice to me and I screw it by being rude.” I look away and swallow, letting my hair fall in front of my face.

Taeil pushes the veil of thick hair away with a soft smile. “It’s okay, really. I understand. I mean... we’re not together so it was not right of me to suggest such thing.”

The traffic light turns green and we start to walk again with the mass of people, my hands still wrapped around his arm and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Well... I mean, it’s not like I would mind wearing your sweaters. It’s just that I was looking like a mess and my words just came out wrongly and...” I bite my lip while searching for his eyes, which are settled on the traffic light.

“You looked beautiful, this morning”, says Taeil bluntly. “You always do.”

My lips part slightly and I blink. I totally lost my ability to speak with his sudden found confidence. My heart flutters and skips a couple beats. 

“Oh. Well... thank you.”

We finally reach the supermarket and I pull out a cart, signalling for Taeil to sit in it. 

“What pfff hahaha no”, he laughs loudly, “shouldn’t I be the one pushing you around?”

I scoff while smiling. “The next time, okay?”

“Oh, so there will be a next time?”, he teases and leans against the cart, a slight grin adorns his pretty face. 

“Just get in, you dork”, I grumble with a heavy blush on my cheeks as he climbs into the cart, sitting cross-legged.

“Off to the life support, my humble carriage pusher”, he jokes, stretching out his arm and pointing towards the alcohol aisle. 

[harryimaginedstories]

a hint of yoghurt

plot: she’s reluctant to forgive him for forgetting about her while he was spending time with an ex. genre: angst but sometimes funny (I hope). please enjoy!

The tranquility reigning in their home was a strange contrast to the heavy screaming that had echoed from its walls only few hours ago. It did very little to make Y/N feel better. A heaviness weighed down on her heart.

Y/N sat with her legs dangling from the counter as she rested her back against some drawers. One particular drawer kept poking her shoulder. Still, Y/N refused to go to sleep. Part of her excused this by claiming to need something to eat first, when really she was afraid. She didn‘t want to go to bed alone. Though she often complained or playfully pushed him away, Y/N knew she wouldn’t find any rest without Harry’s heavy arms around her hips and the sound of him snoring in her ear. Instead, he was now snoring peacefully on the couch. Alone. The quietness was almost eerie. Especially after having heard Harry’s rough voice bellow out more words than he could have ever meant. In her hand Y/N held her makeshift dinner of yoghurt and oatmeal - a mixture of sticky and dry. It was clearly less fancy than what she would have had if he hadn’t forgotten and left her stranding on the street. Y/N tried not to think about the nice Italian meal she had been excited to eat all week as she spooned the sweet mixture into her mouth. Y/N shifted. She also would have been sitting on a comfortable chair rather than hard stone that felt cold through her thin pijama bottoms.

It hadn‘t been the first time they‘d clashed after finding something they disagreed upon. As in any relationship it was a natural thing that sometimes happened. However never like this. Never had Y/N been on the receiving end of that kind of anger and truthfully she hadn’t ever expected to be. Especially that it had come from Harry out of all people was confusing to her. Usually he was nothing but kind with her. Every touch was tender, every word said with adoration in his tone. Even when they fought he had never shouted other than maybe a quick “Y/N!“ to get her attention when she was ranting. To have him scream and throw word after word at her head had definitely been a first.

“Late supper?“

Though she hadn‘t heard him get up and make his way from the living room and into the kitchen, Y/N wasn‘t surprised. Part of her had wanted him to wake up and come apologize. However now that he was looking at her from the opposite side of the kitchen she suddenly felt very small. Sitting there in her tiny light blue shorts and with yoghourt smeared on her upper lip she didn‘t exactly feel ready for another round. Y/N briefly considered to just bolt back to her room. If he were to scream at her again she knew she wouldn’t be able to stand it. Luckily Harry looked tired himself and appeared to be very calm. Too much so as that he could have resumed their argument.

“Being mad at you made me hungry.“

Harry cracked a small smile. “I bet.“

Same counted from him. Missing out on dinner with her had left his own tummy empty and rumbling. 

“Is that yoghourt?”

Y/N nodded and fed herself another spoonful. Harry bit his lower lip. Under other circumstances he would be standing between her thighs and have her feed him some of her dinner, right after licking off that spot of yoghourt smeared on her lip. He wasn’t oblivious to it being his own fault that he couldn’t do that now.  Y/N lowered her gaze back to his feet. Looking at him gave her a strange mixture of feelings. On one hand he looked beautiful, even when he was so tired he could pass out. His hair was soft and his eyes bright, making all of her want to reach out and tug him into a hug. Slowly her eyes traveled upwards, from his socks to his legs until they stopped on his shorts. Y/N bit back a pleased smile. She recalled throwing the clothing at his face when he had followed her to the bottom of the stairs, still shouting and trying to get her to hear his point.

”You know,“ Harry said, reading her thoughts, ”that actually kinda hurt. Metal button hit my nose.“

”Too bad.“ But when she noticed the frown appear on his face she chose to quickly add, ”Sorry, Harry.“

He waved her off, relieved to have her looking at him again. ”It‘s not like you were meaning to. S‘alright.“

Y/N willed herself to smile but quickly looked away again. She hated feeling uncomfortable around her own boyfriend. Another first. Harry leaned his back against the doorframe as he watched his girlfriend finish her supper quickly and he hoped she wasn’t hurrying in order to get away from him. Though he would’ve understood. Guilt grew in his chest until it felt almost crushing. She looked terribly soft with her bare legs swinging from the counter and a shirt he recognized as his own covering her upper body. This made him smile at last. He hadn’t expected her to still be comfortable wearing his clothes but he was glad that she did.

The longer Harry stood there looking at her the harder it got for him to understand why they had been arguing. More importantly, how he could have been the one doing all the shouting. Why had he yelled at her like that? She had been terribly reluctant to hear him out, but why had he believed screaming would help his case? Worst of all, Y/N had had every right to be angry with him. He had clearly been in the wrong and yet refused to own up to it.

He should have just come straight home form the gym. He should have been on time, taken a shower and then went to pick up his girlfriend from the cafe she had been spending her afternoon at. They should have gone to dinner together. Had he been smarter then he would have her in his bed and wrapped in his arms right now. Instead, Harry’s back ached from laying on the couch. All because he had been stupid instead.

“So you’re telling me you are late because you were with her?”

Harry remembered Y/N’s eyes looking sadder and sadder. But he hadn’t reacted the way he should have. 

“I told you, we just ran into each other. Why is that such a big deal to you?”

“You made me wait because you were with the only woman you know I feel uncomfortable you hanging out with! Actually, you didn’t even make me wait you just straight up forgot about me!”

“For fuck’s sake, I forgot one thing, Y/N. Once! I said that I was sorry what else do you even want fro me, huh? It’s done! Get over it and accept that I apologized!”

“How sincere that sounds when you say so while screaming!”

Harry knew he had been wrong and so had she. That was probably why he had started yelling in the first place. However a loud voice couldn’t overpower one that was in the right. He remembered her flinching when he had first started to grow louder, yet he hadn’t stopped. Neither had she. She had defended her point until her eyes had leaked tears while Harry kept screaming until she stormed off. He still felt a slight soreness in his throat. Sore from shouting at his girlfriend until she cried.

Harry sighed heavily and stepped closer, cautious not to scare her off. To his surprise and relief she didn’t even tense up.

“I’m embarrassed.”

Y/N put down the empty bowl. She met his careful gaze with hard eyes. “Really. Why?"

“Because I yelled,” Harry mumbled, taking another step forward.

“You did.”

“And I was being mean.”

“You were.”

Harry gave a soft and regretful smile. Carefully he reached out and brushed his fingers over the bare skin of her left arm.

“I’m very sorry, Y/N.”

The words were so quiet and calm, yet sincere. Y/N struggled to compare them to those he’d spoken earlier that night. Feeling his fingertips caress her skin however did bring her some sense of calmness. Perhaps she would find some sleep that night after all. Harry struggled to catch a breath. They weren’t ones to not know what to say to the other and Harry hated the unfamiliar distance that had grown between them. As if in attempt to break it, he allowed his back to rest against the counter she was sat on. It wasn’t the same as embracing her in his arms, but at least his hips were only centimeters away from her legs. Overcoming the emotional barrier quickly proved to be more difficult. Though he wanted her to say something further and perhaps forgive him already he was hesitant to push her. She might allow him to be physically closer to her again, but he didn’t mistake that a sign of her being ready to forgive.

Y/N looked at the side of his face, mustering the tense expression he wore. “Are you really?”

“Of course,” Harry replied with no hesitation and a weak movement of his shoulders, “Was stupid of me.”

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, it was.”

Harry met her gaze. He hoped not to overstep any boundries and slowly leaned in to brush his arm against her leg. Y/N didn’t move away.

“You know,” he said, “I think I deserve an award or something. Doubt anybody’s messed up this badly twice in one night.”

“Three times actually.”

“Yeah?”

Y/N nodded. She almost expected to find a sign of his anger returning, yet his face remained calm. It was encouraging enough for her to continue.

“I presume one and two are you spending the evening with your ex-girlfriend without notifying me and then later shouting at me for feeling upset.”

Harry nodded and pulled at his lower lip so hard it looked painful. 

“Well, I’d say you forgetting to pick me up counts as a misstep as well.”

At that he chuckled and shook his head. He held both arms crossed against his chest and kept his eyes on the floor.

“Shit, you’re right. That, too. So three mistakes in one night then, huh?”

“Hm.”

“Fuck.”

Again they said nothing, letting all playfulness in the air fade. Y/N sniffled lightly. The noise straddled Harry at first but he was relieved to find that she wasn’t crying. His heart had almost dropped. Seeing her tears would’ve been too much. Y/N’s knuckles brushed against her nose and again Harry was reminded of how enamoured with her he was. With a heavy sigh escaping his mouth Harry reached out and rested his hand on top of her bare knee. Another brave gesture he was relieved to find she allowed.

“It’s an award I wish I hadn’t earned.” 

“Harry,” Y/N breathed shakily, “just tell me why. We’ve both said so much and I... I still just don’t understand. Why did you meet with her?”

“I ran-”

“You ran into her, yeah I heard that the first ten times you said so.” 

Y/N shook her head and briefly considered pushing him away again. She needed him to be honest. No bullshit, no excused. She wanted him to finally say what had happened and not just words he hoped would soothe her anger.

“On your way to the showers you bumped into her, you two talked a few minutes and then she asked you to go grab a coffee. I heard all that already. What I don’t know is your reasoning behind it. Why was a cup of coffee with your ex more important than a dinner with your girlfriend?”

“It wasn’t.” Harry looked at her with desperate eyes. 

Y/N tilted her head. “C’mon now. Yes it was. And honestly that’s where my head starts to spin. What does it say about us that you prefer an evening with her over a dinner with me? What kind of couple does that make us?”

“Y/N, please.” Harry removed his hand from her leg and stepped around her to stand opposite of the counter she remained sat on.

If he were to make her feel uncomfortable again he knew she would leave. Understandably so, especially since he had pushed her too far once that night already. So he was cautious not to be too close, just enough to get a good look at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly, eyes trained on her face attentively, “really am.”

“I know you are,” she replied, and he sighed at the softness in her voice, “but it still hurts.”

“I understand that.”

“And it makes me overthink.”

Harry swallowed and willed himself to stay calm. The look of disappointment written all over her face made his heart shiver. For the first time he felt like his own girl was slipping away, into the worry he had caused and Harry felt like he had run out of words to stop her.

“Y/N,” he croaked, “this says nothing about us. Only ‘bout me.”

She huffed. “That you care less about time with each other than I do?”

“No, that I-”

“Listen, I know I’m reading a lot into this. But Harry it’s not like you’re home all the time and we see each other so often we get sick of it. You’re gone the better part of the year and I always respect that but I won’t anymore if you leave me hanging the short time you actually are around.”

Harry bit his lip. Again she was right. Of course she was. She stayed home while he travelled the world, be it for his job or to visit the people he had met on his journey. Not once had she minded, only ever asked him not to forget about the girl he left behind. Tonight he had forgotten, even though he’d been less than 30 minutes away from her.

Water filled his eyes before he could stop it. In attempt to shield the view from his girlfriend Harry pushed both palms against his cheeks and turned away. Seeing him cry was the last thing she needed right now. He had messed up. Consequently he wasn’t the one in the position to deserve comfort. It was too late of course and Y/N’s heart broke into pieces at Harry’s distress. He heard her curse before her naked feet met the cold tile floor. Small hands grabbed at his wrists and Harry choked, still trying not to let her see. He tried to shrug her off, attempted not to be weak but once again he failed miserably.

“Harry, hey, shh. No, no, no, c’mere.”

Y/N caressed his arms as he cried, standing so close in front of him he could feel her breath hit his skin. The sudden warmth in her tone made him flinch. More tears poured from his eyes and his hands caught them as he was overcome with emotion. Never before had Harry felt undeserving of his girlfriend’s compassion. 

“Harry, baby.”

He sniffled. With a forceful jerk she removed one of his hands from his face and moved quickly to catch his body in an embrace before he could shield himself from her again. Her face pushed into his neck. Harry whimpered and let his arm drape around her shoulders, still crying heavily. 

“M’sorry.”

“I know,” she said. One of her hands found the back of his head where she began to stroke his hair. “I know you are. It’s okay.”

“No,” Harry croaked, finally dropping the other hand from his face as well, “don’t say it’s okay just ‘cause m’crying.”

“But it is,” Y/N pressed her lips to his jaw, “You can’t do more other than saying that you’re sorry.”

“Fucked up so badly,” Harry said and let his head drop to her shoulder.

Feeling his tears meet her skin was probably the worst thing she had ever felt. Y/N squeezed him to her and scratched his head. She made sure to keep him close, even when feeling him cry was like pushing a knife into her heart.

“You did. And you’re sorry and you own up to it. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“You didn’t think so couple minutes ago.”

“I did a little bit.”

“Crying doesn’t make me any less of a dick.”

Y/N smiled. “No, but it makes me not wanna treat you like one anymore.”

“See?” Harry pulled away to meet her eyes, “M’so manipulative.”

“Oh Christ,” Y/N reached up and brushed the falling tears from under his eyes, “Harry.”

He didn’t stop her fingers from rubbing his sore skin, but frowned when she squeezed his cheeks. Y/N pulled and rubbed his face while smiling until finally he did too. A tiny smile, barely there, but it was enough to make her tummy dance. She rewarded him with a kiss on the lips.

“Now you’re not crying anymore,” she said softly, “and I still want to forgive you.”

“I shouldn’t have let you down,” Harry looked into her eyes, wishing he could drown in them, “I was supposed to just come home to you. Don’t even know why I didn’t. All for a shitty cup of coffee.”

“Where did you go to anyway?” Y/N giggled. 

“Rosanne’s cafe,” Harry muttered and gave in to a grin when he heard her laugh.

“Rosanne’s? Oh, awful coffee! Terribly overpriced, too.”

“I know.”

Y/N let both hands wander up and down his shoulders. She held his gaze, recognizing a curiosity in them that made her weak. One hand met his jaw and his lips parted as she drew her thumb over them. If only she could soothe the worry she had planted in his heart. 

“You didn’t mean to hurt me,” Y/N whispered.

Harry shook his head. “I didn’t.”

Y/N let herself move closer and press against his chest. A happy sigh fell from her mouth and Harry’s hands found her hips to keep her close against him. It still sounded hoarse and shaky whenever he breathed, but at least he didn’t feel himself close to tears anymore. The relief of her allowing him to hold her again was too consuming as that he could have cried. Hesitant, Harry leaned in and nudged the side of her head with his nose. When she looked up he was closer than expected, enough so to gently attache his mouth to hers. Y/N whimpered as she kissed back. She could feel the reluctance in his movements and it made her aware of how afraid he still was. 

“I’m not slipping away,” she murmured against his lips, “I love you, Harry.”

A groan that made her legs feel like jelly tumbled from his throat and this time when he kissed her it was with more urgency. His tongue brushed her lips, her hands scratched his skin and soon their breathing got heavy. Her hands found his hair, his her naked thighs. Somehow he had her back on top of the counter, only this time with his body pressed to hers and his heart back in one piece. If he concentrated enough on the kiss he could even taste a hint of yoghurt. 

please tell me you liked this because I really did.

my stories

[idombledore]

How to lose 30 kilos in 6 months and love every minute

Part 1 > Revelation in France Three years ago, my wife and I decided to call time on our marriage. It was a sombre final chat in the kitchen, sharing the last bottle we might ever share. We were sad but it made perfect sense. We’d tried. My wife said she’d move out down to her parent's house in the country and she asked me what I'd  do, I picked something random from the top of my idiot head and said “Spain.” “Spain?” she said and “Spain” I repeated. No idea where it came from. Maybe I just wanted my departure to be more triumphant, a little more exciting than moving in with parents. Whenever we’d have a fight, that’s what she’d do. I'd run my consultancy for twenty odd years and over that twenty odd years, my role had evolved into taking clients to lunch, dinner, shows and spectacles.  Nice if you can get it but it took its toll on my fitness. By the time I drove off to the Channel Tunnel, I was eighteen stone and I hadn't played a meaningful game of football in years. For some reason, a revelation always hits me a while after the event, more autopsy than eureka. Something that seemed so clear suddenly fogs up in deference to the new truth. Of course she was right, idiot. You always knew that. “If you can’t respect your own body,” she said. “How can anyone else?” And there it was. Respect your body. Respect your mind. Fitness. Breathe new air. Everything is going to change. If my automated blurting of “Spain” was taking me to Spain, then let it be Spain. I would return  triumphant, slim, toned and sleek and everyone would say how awesome and happy and better-without-her I was. I was more than halfway from Calais, driving to a small French town called Île de Ré, an island off La Rochelle on the West Coast. I remember the exact spot because the signs had shown their first direction to Le Mans. From that sign, 300km shy of my target, facing three more driving hours, I lost a lump of time I can’t account for. The next thing I knew there were signs for La Roche Sur Yon. I remembered it from my planning stage because it was pretty close to where I was headed. The sat nav confirmed I was suddenly only an hour from Ile de Rey in what seemed like a blink. I couldn't tell you why it happened and I have no idea what, if anything, I was thinking in the missing time. What I can tell you is the clarity on the other side. My new start. My new energy. My mission. Maybe the universe had supplanted a new person into me. Maybe it took me time to reboot. It felt like it. At that moment, I couldn’t possibly have imagined anything else. I’d booked a little room overlooking the harbour at Le Colonnes. I was soon checked in and I unloaded laptop and cables to start the mission I hadn't quite fleshed out yet. 6 foot 1. 18 stone. I fumbled my finger over the Body Mass Index chart, into the blue, sailing past green and into the orange, and just before getting into the red, there it was. My number. My target. 32.  I was actually clinically obese. I needed to be 24 to fit into that little green zone of health and fitness. 25% of my bodyweight was surplus. This was a holy **** moment as I pulled back from the screen. I closed the laptop and swore foulness on that 25%. My mission had shown its numbers and my plan had started. That night would be the finest French cuisine a man can enjoy and the next day, everything would change. Part 2 > Mission Planning I woke up remembering Le Skipper in the harbour, the fillet steak with crushed pea purée and dauphinoise potatoes that would serve as my turning point.Something I wouldn’t deserve again until my mission was accomplished. I was still buzzed. Normally, revelations are flushed with the first order of the day but not this one. The morning  after a revelation is a test of human willpower. If you fold at such an early point, there is literally no hope for you. If the stakes are this important and you fold, you, my son, are an idiot. As one lady said to me more than once, “It’s not a rehearsal, boy.” I wasn't sure if I was still an idiot or not yet as all manners of sweet and savoury things greeted me in the  breakfast room at the hotel. Bacon, eggs croissants, jam, cheeses and hams, but hang on, my eyes focused on something else, like they were being moved by another force. The fruit section. Normally I'd  be starting a three course mini marathon under the guise of getting the day some energy. Today though, I took a little bowl and filled it to the top with melon and orange, mango, cherries and all colour of things and I sat down with orange juice and looked over at big people and little people, busy people and relaxed people. I knew I was on a different level to them, just for now, in the light still shining on me. Your willpower gets a serious shot in the arm. I had more research to do about the exact food groups I'd  need but I knew this was right. Then the first glimmers of insubordination popped up briefly and reminded me that I had a fallback and that fallback was called lunch and every day I had a fallback plan to the next meal. Maybe fruit wasn't enough, surely a bit of bacon and cheese? No, fuck off, I said, turning a head or two in the dining room. I gestured an apology and then I smiled at the last cherry in my bowl. I munched that little cherry up. There would be no bacon or cheese. Those dark little glimmers were crushed and squished and left pleading as I got up and left the room. I was smiling as I approached Bordeaux. Today's destination was about six hours over the Pyrenees to Pamplona in northern Spain. This is where they do the bull run every July. Basque country, and the Bordeaux signs told me I was about a third of the way there. The night before had included two bottles of Fitou. Le Skipper was quiet and the staff had time to chat. After dinner, I was pretty much the only punter there so they wrapped it up and took me to Bar Kokot with their Austrian Rum. So, there hadn’t been time to do the work I needed but what a fine farewell to my old life. Yet another sign flashed my licence plate and said I was going too fast and I anticipated a box full of speeding tickets waiting for me whenever I got back to London. But I didn't care. I couldn't wait to get to Pamplona and get the laptop out, make my plan. A few hours later I was in my room at the Pamplona Catedral Hotel doing just that. I already knew how much weight to lose. Thirty kilos, almost 5 stone. One of the first results, I found out about the Okinawa diet. Okinawa, a little island off the south of Japan has the longest living humans on the planet. Taxi drivers are ninety years old and still dance. People eat whatever grows near them and that’s it. One photo I saw was of an elaborate table. You could sit about ten people round it. The table was a tea making machine. A few strips of bamboo were hooked up to an inlet and brought mountain spring water into the table. Most of the water would trickle out and continue down the mountain, unsure of why it had been put through the bother,  but when you turned a little handle, the water would be diverted around a spaghetti of pipes and on towards the bowels of the table. It would slip and slide through channels lined with fresh tea leaves and elements gradually heating it up as it travelled. Turn one of the eight  little taps under the  table edge and you have a steaming cup of the freshest tea. So, the fine people from Okinawa told me how you could eat perfectly well and get everything a body needs. And you didn't need meat or anything processed to do it. My first culinary casualties. I also learned that my whole eating schedule had been wrong all my life. The best way to do it is to eat small but eat often. I'd  been so proud of myself some days when I was too busy to eat anything and had six tons of dinner at about 9pm. Wrong. The body is a sensitive little baby. If it doesn't get fed often enough it throws its toys out the pram and truly believes it’s starving. It then converts what you do eat into fat, sensible storage for a rainy day when maybe you do starve. How a brain can fail to tell a body that it’s ok, no-one's going to starve is beyond me but apparently it does. So, by the time I'd  showered and got ready to see what this former bastion of the Roman empire had going for it, I had successfully mapped out my new diet. And it was all the stuff I like to eat anyway. I'd  start with some fruit, in deference to the first successful morning. Then give it a couple of hours and a little low fat cottage cheese on a wholewheat crispbread, and a few crushed walnuts sprinkled on it. Before what was probably the main mini meal of the day, about two o'clock, it was exercise. My wife’s brother had told me the body prefers to exercise then eat as it’s still burning, rather than the other way round. Maybe A little tuna steak with bok choy, a bit of spinach, greek yoghurt and some kidney beans or chickpeas. Amazing things chickpeas, fibre and protein all in one little pill. It wasn't a problem designing these mini meals, the problem was there was too much choice. If you're going to have pasta, have wholewheat pasta. If you're going to have rice, have wild rice or brown rice and not too much of either. Your 5 or 7 a day is so easy to achieve and better. Let your milk be zero fat milk, let your greens be asparagus, broccoli, kale, spinach, artichoke, sprouts and bok choy. Eat nuts, almonds, walnuts. Eat pulses. Kidney beans, chickpeas. Prefer fruits of the forest over others, raspberries, blackberries and the like. Loads of antioxidants. And let your booze be anything but beer, predominantly white wine and a glass of red a day comes straight from the doc. All the stuff I already knew. Lettuce, peppers, tomatoes, celery, onion, garlic. Jesus I could do a meal planner for a month without getting bored.   This was going to be tasty. I could still love my food but carry that aloof grin that comes with a man shedding timber and having fun doing it. I'd  know exactly how many calories came with each mini meal and how much exercise to do to burn them off. The laptop was closed up and my phone map and I set off to explore Pamplona. The city is called Iruna in the native Basque language and there was an ever-present but subtle show of the independence from Spain the Basque people had been after for a long time. Basque flags were draped over balconies and stuck on cars but a local told me, do not take a flag out in public or you’d get carted off. One local comedian had added a bit of graffiti to a low wall, poorly translated as “Anything but a free state is just a load of bulls.” Back in the hotel room, I tackled the exercise aspects. Swimming would always figure, especially in Spain, but what else? Running can be high impact, shin splints and the like. It would be rowing. It’s got everything, loads of muscles getting tickled gently, great cardio and hang on here we go, I can get a machine for the house for a couple of hundred euros. I'd join a kayak club or some such but winter was on its way and even the Spanish winter doesn't lend itself to being in the sea. And that was it, a meal for all moods and occasions and an all year round exercise regime. When it was too cold to swim, double up on the rowing. Just make sure you get in some form of water as soon as you finish exercising to loosen up your muscles. I also learned how little anyone should need a gym (apart from my little rowing machine of course). We really do have everything we need around the house. First of all, a running machine? What? Just run around the block. If you want to run uphill, run uphill. Muscle tone is also important. If you’re shedding tonnage, you want the tonnage that’s left nice and tight. Push ups, pull ups, weights, dips, pec toning, ab toning and your core. You can pull up on anything, a couple of chairs, backs together, get your balance and you’re away. Climb something. I'd  start slow. An hour on the rowing machine, weights and core stuff and finally fifteen minutes of laps in the pool. It was all mapped out. That evening, I sat down in a little restaurant I’d spied earlier, down some steps to a little square, live jazz music in the middle. The menu didn’t have much of the stuff I needed and I’d definitely give the “grosse crevette” and “assaulted pasta” a swerve.   I wondered if this would be a problem going forward. I remembered many menus and I wasn’t sure many of them were fit for my new purpose. But then I saw the celery and walnut salad. Fine, little glass of chablis to go along and everything was still on track. Part 3 > Execution The next day around four o'clock, I arrived at my final destination. A little town called Javea, a hundred kilometres south of Valencia. Look at Spain. There’s a little nose about two thirds down the east coast. Tip of that nose. That’s us, pressed against the sea by the mountains. It felt like its own little island.   First priority after wandering around was the supermarket. Go get the super foods. My place was in Cabo la Nao right up on the point near the lighthouse. My mission hadn’t been created when I booked it, but with my new mission head on, the remoteness of my location would be a good thing. When I went outside to get back in my car, I was reminded it had just carried me from London to south east Spain. Over those 1800 miles, the front of the car had accumulated a second skin of unfortunate insects. Insects of all shapes, colours and sizes had become one single cloak of wonder food for any bird that took a fancy. And they did. A feeding frenzy was underway and even this one approaching human and a mystery cat that seemed to appear from nowhere couldn’t scare them off. They each had an allocated section of bodywork to pick at and they did well but still couldn’t get it all off. The earlier casualties were part bug, part Audi. The nearest supermarket was down in the Cala Blanca bit and was called Consum. It was the strangest supermarket shop I'd  ever done. A hundred euros of good healthy stuff. I'd  never put walnuts in a shopping cart. But I carried the same internal smugness of someone whose every passing minute is making them healthier than everyone else. It was a hot day and I knew if I didn't get it all fridged up quick smart, for the whole six months here, there would be a sea bass, salmon, octopus and monkfish essence in my car. The pool was warm enough not to have to thrash around like a perishing salmon and it was my first test of where I was fitness-wise. It was a fifteen metre pool. Breaststroke was the best all round stroke for  what I was after so I took off up and down. I'd  have to do this for at least 30 minutes every day so how close was I? I managed about 15 minutes and thought it was a good start for day one. My own salmon was ready to go under the grill and I was hungry. Baby steps. The house and garden had to provide me with my makeshift gym. Soon, I had two sturdy wooden outside chairs back to back for pull ups, a couple of buckets from the gardener’s shed filled with pool water. The rest would need no props. The push ups over there next to the pool and that little wall would do the ab stuff. Suspend myself on it and hold myself there for ten seconds, ten second break, repeat until knackered.   I had a little go at all my disciplines. The props held up just fine and my routine was set. There was only one thing missing and it would be the majority of my cardio workout. The rowing machine.   In five days time, it would be on my doorstep. I carried on with my eating regime and stepped up the swimming and workout aspects and on day five, the rowing machine arrived. It was lovely and orange and it went right where I hoped it would, between two columns on the terrace. Then I suddenly realised, apart from the supermarket on day one, I hadn't been out yet. The days had been formed around my mini meals and exercise and going out didn't sound as healthy as staying in. But I had to prove to myself I could carry on the mission in or out. That night, I did go out, met some nice folks, Lee and Tracey from Southend and a drummer called Hector, saw a band and drank white wine and had lubina a la plancha,  grilled sea bass, asparagus and a few slices of grilled aubergine, every so slight drizzle of local honey. My taxi got me home at a reasonable hour and I got out without that heavy feeling I’d get when I went out back home. Always too much beer and always too much red meat. I took a quick stroll round my makeshift gym and my new rowing machine and then slept better than I had for ages. Tomorrow, a full programme for the first time. The rowing machine soon got me sweating. The readout was like trying to wish away the miles in the car, watching calorie after calorie clock away, minute after minute. The machine was fine, nice and easy, smooth strokes, keep your back straight. Pretty soon I'd  done my hour and I took a break for water. The weights and pull up and everything else was becoming faster and I was doing more of them. By the time I got into the pool, I was feeling muscle burn and my heart felt reawoken. With the help of a great little tool called Supertracker, I had it all mapped out. Today I would eat 1200 calories and  burn off 2000. And so it was for the next couple of weeks. The cats started popping in to see what this strange noise was an hour every day and soon they stuck around for some cheeky tuna and I had one or two pusscats to talk to while I worked out. The hour a day on the rower needed a bit more entertainment than the readout. By now I knew my pace and you just have to finish the hour come what may. Being in my own head was amusing enough but I needed a bit more autopilot. The laptop was enlisted to provide comedy shows and every so often, this Spanish course I was taking. The hour started to go by like the missing time I'd  felt in La Roche Sur Yon. I was doing more miles to the hour, I was doing more laps in the pool and I was looking forward to every stage more and more. Pretty soon though, the pool became unswimmable so I got a wetsuit but that only really extended it a few weeks. My regime changed and I doubled up on the rowing. My daily meal plans were sometimes not planned, just cobble together the right food groups in the right quantities. Some of the taste combos were worth jotting down, others didn't really work but still, the scales in the bathroom were starting to show results. I'd got down to 100 kilos from 108 in the first 3 weeks. I couldn't believe the progress. I was never hungry, I felt great and the pounds were escaping with ease. I'd have this done in a few more weeks. I started a weight chart and logged as much as I could, something to be proud of. Then the rate of weight loss slowed. I checked the scales. How could doing exactly the same thing every day cause a different result? I changed the scales so that it seemed more of a dramatic reduction. A bit more research told me the scales were fine, the programme was fine. It’s just the first bit of weight drops off you because you're reducing your water retention. After that, you work just as hard for half the initial result. And don't forget, the programme is increasing muscle mass as well, which weighs more than fat. That's fine. So be it. This was the realistic rate. Months not weeks. And I was enjoying it. I was enjoying succeeding, winning. This wasn't so hard. A couple more weeks went past and still the pounds tumbled. Sometimes the reductions were erratic, same programme, 2 pounds off one day, half a pound off the next. I didn't really need to know why as long as the weight kept dropping. The thing was, I had been looking at myself in the full length mirror by the door every day after my workout before the shower and I still didn't look any different. I knew all the machinery and logic associated with my mission couldn’t all be wrong at the same time so I was pretty sure there would be a decent reason for it and so there was. What you’re doing initially is sorting out your core. That’s where you’re losing the initial weight and water. Your core is what’s getting beefed up and fit, out of sight. It made sense enough to a layman but you still like to see changes. And then it happened. My jeans had been feeling a little looser than normal for a few days and then I realised I needed the belt in another hole. There it was, the first sign. I couldn't confirm it from the mirror but this was incontrovertible. Maybe it was something psychosomatic in my head showing me something, but soon after that, I started to see some definition around my middle, not so much abs per se, just prepping the ground for them. The pounds kept shedding off my weight chart. I will freely admit, I did have one or two blowouts, the need for a kebab and a cold beer, and I knew the numbers would show it, but I was now not actually fitting into trousers and shorts and some shirts looked like nightdresses. I needed healthy persons clothes. I have never felt so happy about an impending cost. I looked good, like I did in my 30s. By the time four months had passed, my target of 80 kilos remained and I was only a couple off at 82. I had two months to drop that and I knew I would. I looked at photos of me in london 6 months before and it was incredible. I looked like a different person altogether. I looked tired, heavy, dreading the next flight of stairs. Warning. This is a pivotal moment. When you’re ahead of the curve and bossing it, its easy to entertain the notion that you can ease off a bit. Physically, you’re probably right but don't do it. It changes your mindset from achieving something to already having achieved it but it’s not yet achieved. Rabbit and the hare. Achieve it first, then reward yourself with easing off. I hit my 80 kilos with five weeks to go and the next five weeks kept me there. It was done. I'd  smashed the shit out that 25%. It was gone. I took off from Valencia and landed at Gatwick requiring second glances at my passport photo. Yes, folks that really is me,  just an awful lot more of me. By the time I wandered down the street to the pub, I'd  already decided I wasn’t going back to the UK for good. Spain was my home now. My mission, my new life was born on the French highways and realised in the Spanish mountains. I wasn't even really thinking of the reaction I’d get when I walked in. I didn’t need reactions. I knew what I’d done. Me and my water buckets, pussycats, rowing machines, the glorious island of Okinawa and singing, dancing Spain. The reaction was complete astonishment. Not just someone telling you you look well. This was holy **** across the board. My choice of a pink leather coat to mark the occasion drew its own conclusion but I was stronger and fitter and more vibrant in mind and body.  And I looked it and we all knew it. Life’s new plateau had been reached with a simple regard for my own well being. A respect for my only asset. And it was simple, inspiring and very enjoyable.

[tarithenurse]

Space Nurse 5/?

Fandom(s): Men in Black & MCU! Pairing: (Wait and see) x fem!reader Contents: Probably some cussing and slight bit of angsting. A/N: switching from 1st person PoV in the diary, we now get to enjoy some 2nd pers PoV “live action”! Leave me an ask or reblog to be added to the tag list...even if my writing will be slowing down considerably now that I have to prep for last internship’s exam.

From Nightingale to Sci-Fi

You’re unable to finish the breakfast due to the nauseating anticipation of what’s to come. Good thing you’ll be tending humans the first while, at least their physiology isn’t new to you. Nooo, only all the things they can suffer from in their line of work! You’re far from rested after having spent the entire night studying alien parasites and whatnot. It explains the frequent physicals they need to go through.

Abandoning your futile attempts at finishing the yoghurt with muesli, you stash the tray in the rack and turn around to head off only to nearly slam into the solid shape dressed in a black suit with matching tie which seems to soften and lighten his skin. Looking up into the smiling face of agent Jay, you gravity that tries to pull you stumbling backwards, minimizing the movement to a soft sway.

“Easy there, newbie,” Jay grins as he slips an arm around your waist to steady you, “didn’t mean to scare ya’.”

Slinking out of his steady hold (and tearing your gaze away from his endless eyes), it’s easy enough to deny his claim and if he doesn’t believe you…well at least he doesn’t say it.

“Spend most mornings trying to sneak up on…newbies?” The words fall testily over your lips.

When Jay smirks it makes his feathery moustache tremble. “Nah, only the one’s I’ve been told to assess.”

The two of you’ve started walking and you vaguely recognize the path that leads to the locker room. He’s a relatively tall man, at least compared to yourself and you’re not exactly the tiniest person. Even so, there’s nothing unsettling about walking next to him because nothing about his person carries the air of the other cold and anonymous agents you’ve encountered so far.

“There’ll be one from either bureau evaluatin’ ya work and skills every day. I’ve been tasked to represent Men in Black. Doctor Cho was supposed to be the delegation from Shield and –“

“Wait.” Pausing briefly to look at the friendly face to make sure you didn’t mishear. “There’re two fractions at play?”

By the time Jay finishes explaining about Strategic Homeland-something-or-other and Men in Black, your mind’s fuzzy with semi-political history. Your new acquaintance isn’t clear on who knew about the extra-terrestrials first, but it’s apparent that MiB have specialized on the field and it was a director of SHIELD, a guy called Fury, that arranged for a meeting to build a cooperation. One day, rumour goes, he was sitting in the office of “Alpha”, the chief of Jay’s organisation.

“So…I’m not actually part of neither Men in Black or SHIELD?” Pulling out a set of scrubs from an automated dispenser, you continue into the locker room.

Maybe he doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care, because he follows dutifully. “Nah, durin’ the trial period y’are in neutral territory. Once assessed, we decide which agency ya’ll fit with, ya know…skills, temper, shit like tha’.”

“Don’t I have a say in it?” you ask, brows raised although he can’t see it because you’ve got the back to him and your head halfway into your locker.

Kicking off shoes, there’s no sign the man will leave, and you decide to change while he keeps talking.

“Ya want a say in – oh okay, we’re doin’ that!” You hear him shuffle about and a glance verifies that he’s turned away. “It’s not that I mind, ya see. Nothin’ wrong with…with…ahm…” The shadows of flailing hands doesn’t provide him with the needed vocabulary. “Aaaanyways! So…erm…well if ya got any preferences, we’ll be happy to hear ‘em.”

The scrubs from the hospital back home used to be white, maybe with navy leggings depending on the model, so it looks odd to you with the pastel yellow. I’m like an Easter chicken! Baggy pants and unshapely t-shirt, at least both have huge pockets for pens, notebooks with charts and vitals, and much more that you’ve come to learn is handy to have nearby during a shift. Pushing the locker-door shut with a dull clang, you straighten up and breathes in deeply in the hope that it’ll steady the nerves once and for all.

“Let’s do this.”

…

With doctor Helen Cho gone one of the people responsible for your introduction (though apparently only for a little while) is a young SHIELD-scientist although her expertise lies in biochemistry, making her less of an obvious choice to work in the infirmary in much the same way Helen’s focus on genetics does. But doctor Simmons in kind and brilliant, and she willingly explains that most of the doctors at this facility aren’t “ordinary” doctors due to the special needs any disease or injury related to extra-terrestrials require. As such, it’s up to you and the handful of other nurses to cover the gap between the professions.

No pressure. Sure, you’ve done your fair share of stiches and cleaning wounds...but you’re no surgeon, of course, and as your mind lists all the manners your expertise can be insufficient you feel your heart fall. Even though you’d been surprised to be offered this job (and since then shocked to find out what it entails), you don’t want to be deemed unworthy. Damnit, you bicker at yourself, if I gotta leave it’ll be me walking out as a protest.

…

You don’t leave that day. Instead, the time is spend doing regular checkups and collecting blood and urine samples from the many (human) employees that have been called in in advance. Some of the equipment might be fancier than at your old job, but the procedures are perfectly familiar, putting you at each and freeing your mind to make small talk with the military personnel which apparently are being checked these days.

A few of the faces are recognizable from the hallways or the cafeteria, there’s even a set of twins (whom you’ve assumed was actually just one very busy guy) that recognizes you from the gym. Red hair and brown eyes equally aflame with joy barely able to mask a glimmer of mischief when they each in turn offer you to join them for training or company at meal time. After seeing the second out, you take the liberty of noting down their names just in case you take them up on their offer.

And so, the day passes surprisingly quickly with you in one room together with the “patients” and agent Jay and doctor Simmons, the two people who has a power over your future, in the lab except when they decide to check up on you or stop by to give you a message. No one joins you for lunch, and by the time the day ends, you’re thankful that neither of the two leaves with you even if it means walking the halls alone.

…

You’ve had an hours rest before needing to be ready for the daily torture at the hands of the trio in charge of your training. Dragging your sorry ass and buzzing mind to the gym, getting insulted and yelled at is the last thing you feel like because even if the day technically speaking has been simple, getting used to a new work place is taking its toll mentally.

Dropping the little towel and water bottle in the treadmill’s holders, you know the first part of the training session you’ll be left mostly alone as long as you don’t run too slow. A few beeps with the buttons starts the preprogrammed, torturous, cardio workout.

15 minutes in, and your lungs are burning as though someone’s filled them with acid, forcing your body to work on anaerobic metabolism and sheer stubbornness. Breathe in while left-right-left, breathe out while right-left-right. On and on, the mantra drones while the empty gaze stays fixed on the barren wall at the other side of the room. Just a…bit more. You know you’re lying to yourself, but it’s easier to handle one more minute at a time than all 15 at once.

By the time the machine slows to a halt, some unknown deity must have taken pity on you to prevent your legs from giving out under you. Wiping the sweat away with the little towel (and stifling a groan of discouragement), the only goal is to drag out the time before one of the three buddies turns their attention to you.

“Hey, [Y/N]. Right?”

The cheery voice right behind you makes you snap around so fast you nearly trip yourself, and four hands shoot out to steady you. What was their names again?

“Woops,” the other twin smiles (or maybe it’s the same that spoke before), “didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Heh. Nono, you didn’t,” you lie with a half-hearted smile, “I was just erm…mentally far away.”

The one you think might be Sean looks solemnly around the boring gym. The place is styled á la minimalist institution with once-white concrete walls and linoleum in some uncanny greenish hue that looks more like mold than anything you ought to have indoors.

“Next time…please bring me along.” The sigh would seem honest if it wasn’t for the twinkle in the brown eyes.

“Oï!” Of course, his brother (possibly named Ian, depending on who’s who) isn’t about to miss out on anything as he elbows his way closer, sending maybe-Sean slightly off balance. “Anything particular in mind? Otherwise I’ll show you the good places around here, just say the word!”

Their enthusiasm and smiles are contagious, rekindling a happiness that has otherwise been dampened since you left home. You’re just about to answer, accepting the offer in the need of having some sort of friends in this foreign place, when Costa sidles over with a brow arched in disapproval. Clad in shorts and a sports bra, showing almost all of her toned body, you’re reminded of the inferior status thrust upon you – and for obvious reasons when it comes to physical prowess. If it was only that, at least. But no. Of course, this warrior-lady somehow manages to look gorgeous and be smart too, and a pang of mixed emotions in your chest prompts you to look away.

“What’ve we got here?” The slightly nasal Caribbean dialect is honeyed. Too honeyed. “The havoc-twins are trying to sabotage my recruit?”

“Ma’am, no, ma’am.” Both guys’ drain in the split second it takes before they answer in unison.

Smoldering eyes turn frosty, freezing the guys and you to the spot. “Good. I won’t tolerate anything but perfection, and if you mess with my work, I’ll make you regret it. We clear?!”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” You bite your tongue not to answer with Sean and Ian.

“You can have her when I’m done.” Costa’s words sends a new wave of heat to your cheeks for no reason you should be thinking of. “Now move.”

Watching the twins scurry off, you wait silently for the punishing rant that must be brewing for you.

Nothing.

No harsh words or degrading comments slip Costa’s lips while she instructs you on the use of some equipment meant to exercise arms and chest. Oh no, her punishment is way more refined, much crueler. From one machine to the next, she pushes you beyond the limits you thought you had in a gruelling manner where raw strength and endurance are brought to the test until you literally pass out, losing your grip on an elastic cord as you slump unto the floor. Weather it’s the sharp whip against your face from the equipment or the impact with the linoleum that wakes you, well that’s impossible to tell. Either way, it’s the burning humiliation that hurts the most as you try to focus on the face of your tormentor.

[joeandtaylorfanfiction]

Babysitting - part one (Submission)

“How was your dentist appointment? Did you cry loads?” Taylor joked into her iPhone while grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and sitting on the counter.

“Ah ah, very funny” Blake answered her. Taylor could picture her rolling her eyes and had to concentrate not to laugh while drinking her water. “It was okay” she continued “I think Ryan was the one that cried a bit while I was at the dentist” Blake chuckled.

“Why, what happened?” Taylor asked while holding the water bottle between her knees to try and screw the lid back on.

“Well, when I got home-“

“Wait just a second please” Taylor told her, turning on the speaker and putting the phone on top of the counter. “Sorry, I was trying to close my water bottle but you know that little plastic thing attached to the lid that’s supposed to stay on the bottle? It came halfway off and I couldn’t close it” Taylor explained “but go ahead, sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry, I hate it when that happens, it’s really annoying” Blake agreed.

“But tell me what you were saying, when you got home…?”

“Oh right. Well, when I got home from the dentist Ryan looked like he was about to cry, I swear five more minutes and he would have” Blake laughed.

“Oh did he miss you that much?” Taylor smirked “How long were you gone for, two hours?” She asked while getting off the counter to put the water back in the fridge, the iPhone still on speaker on top of the counter.

“One and a half, actually” both Blake and Taylor laughed at that.

When Taylor closed the fridge and turned around to go back to her phone she saw Joe walking into the kitchen.

“And what happened that made him want to cry” Taylor asked again while walking towards Joe instead of her phone. She gestured towards the counter while mouthing ‘Blake’ at him and wrapping her arms around his torso.

“He went to put baby Ines down for a nap and decided it was a good idea to leave James alone in the kitchen” Blake started to explain.

“Auch” said Taylor while Joe buried his face in her neck and chuckled quietly.

“This sounds promising” he whispered into her neck.

“You can say auch again” Blake continued. “You know how James is. When he came back downstairs there was flour everywhere, cereal milk on top of the iPad he left on the table and yoghurt inside a cactus vase.”

“Oh my God” Taylor said wide eyed while Joe laughed loudly.

“Oh, hey Joe” Blake said.

“Hey Blake” he answered her while dodging Taylor’s hand that was about to slap his arm.

“I’m sorry” Taylor said walking back towards the counter and picking up her phone “I had the phone on speaker when he got here.”

“Nah, don’t worry. But yeah, I got home to a laughing James, a messy kitchen and a Ryan that looked like he was about to cry” Blake laughed.

“Could you save the iPad?” Joe asked her while chuckling.

“Yeah, it’s all good” Blake told him.

“I guess someone learned not to leave James alone in the kitchen the hard way” Taylor told her.

“Ah I would say so, yes. And we were supposed to go out tonight but our babysitter is sick so I guess we’ll have to settle for the couch. He’s not too happy about that either” Blake laughed again.

“Oh that’s a bummer” Taylor answered her sounding sympathetic. She felt Joe wrap his arms around her middle and rest his chin on her right shoulder.

“Turn the speaker off” he whispered in her ear. Taylor turned her head towards him a bit and whispered back “what?”.

“Turn the speaker off” he repeated.

“Hm, Blake, can you wait just a few seconds?” Taylor asked her.

“Yeah, sure” she answered.

“What?” Taylor whispered at Joe after turning the speaker off.

“Tell her we’ll babysit for them” he told her.

“We’ll what?” Taylor asked him a bit louder.

“Tell her we’ll babysit. It’s just tonight.” He said again.

Taylor blinked up at him. “You did just hear what she just told us right?”

“Yes” he answered simply, sounding amused.

“And you’re not, like… scared off?”

“Why, are you?” He asked smiling down at her.

“Well, no, but…” Taylor kept looking at him for a few seconds and then asked “are you sure?”

“I am. Tell her we’ll babysit for them tonight if they want us to. It’s not a big deal, we’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Taylor told him looking a bit perplexed. She brought the phone back up to her ear. “Hm, Blake?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Well, what you were saying, about not going out today anymore? Joe and I will babysit for you two if you want.”

“Oh!? Really?” Blake sounded surprised. “You did pay attention to what I just told you happened today, right?”

Taylor laughed. “That’s what I just asked Joe” she said while turning back to look at him. “We’ll be fine. If you want us to, of course.”

“Well, are you actually sure? We would really appreciate it.”

“Are we actually sure, Joe?” Taylor asked while smirking.

“We are actually sure, Blake” Joe laughed when Taylor pushed the phone in his direction.

“Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you!!” Blake told them, sounding really exited. “Okay, Ryan is going to be really happy” she laughed again and Taylor and Joe joined her. “Do you want to come here or do you want us to bring the girls there?”

“You can bring them here. Or we can go and pick them up if you want” Taylor told her.

“That’s okay, we’ll bring them over. Say, around six?”

Taylor looked at Joe and he nodded. “Yeah, sounds good. See you later, then?”

“Yup, thank you so much, guys!”

“Don’t worry about it. Don’t forget to pack pjs.” Taylor reminded her.

“Oh we should be back early-“

“Just pack them, Blake” Taylor interrupted her.

“Thank you, thank you, you two are angels! I’ll see you both later!”

“Bye” Taylor told her before disconnecting the call, while Joe started to laugh again.

“See, she sounded really happy about it” he told her.

“I don’t mind babysitting, I love it, actually” Taylor told him “ I just thought that would be the last thing you’d feel like doing after hearing that story she just told us happened today with James.”

“We’ll be okay. As long as we don’t leave her alone in the kitchen, which I don’t think we were going to do in the first place” he told her, and they both laughed at that.

-a few hours later-

“Joe!” Taylor yelled from the kitchen “can you get the door, please?”

“On it” he yelled back from the living room while walking towards the front door. The room wasn’t that messy but he thought tidying it up a bit before the girls got there would be a good idea.

“I hear we have some very important guests tonight?” Joe said after opening the door and while bending down to hug James, who had left her dad’s side immediately after she saw him.

“I’m staying with you and Taylor tonight!” She tells him, excitedly, while squeezing his neck.

“I know, and were are both really happy about it” he told her. He pulled back and asked her “are you ready to have some fun?” She nodded with a big smile. “Why don’t you go and see Taylor? She’s in the kitchen.”

“Okay” she answered and went past him into the house “Taylor!!” They heard her yell while she disappeared into the kitchen.

“Hey guys” Joe said while getting back up.

“Dude” Ryan started, sounding emotional “from the bottom of my dark heart, thank you. We are eternally in debt-“

“Oh stop being dramatic” Blake interrupted while rolling her eyes.

Joe chuckled “No problem, mate” he told Ryan while patting his shoulder.

“But seriously, Joe, we really appreciate this” Blake told him, “if it gets too much just call us, ok?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be okay. We’ll have loads of fun, right baby?” He asked in Ines’ direction and she squealed at him, kicking her feet and chewing on her fist.

“Do you want to come in?” He asked them.

Before they could answer they heard as Taylor came to the door holding James’ little hand, “hey, guys” she said, smiling at them.

“Mommy, daddy, Taylor made fish fingers for dinner!” James said, “and there are cookies too!”

“Fish fingers and cookies? Can I stay for dinner, Taylor?” Ryan asked while mock pouting.

“No, you can’t” Taylor told him, laughing. “Blake, give me that cute baby and shoo to the two of you.”

Blake laughed and gave Ines over to Taylor, who immediately started making happy noises and toying with Taylor’s necklace.

“And I’ll take those bags” said Joe, while taking the two bags Ryan was holding.

“You have everything in there” Blake told them “if you need anything just call.”

“Don’t worry” Taylor reassured her, “say bye to mama and dada” she said while holding on to Ines’ little hand and waving.

“Bye, baby” Blake said. “And goodbye to you, come give mommy a hug” she told James who did as requested.

“Bye, daddy” she said after she gave a hug to her dad too.

“Bye James. Be good, okay?” He told her.

“Yes, bye. Are Meredith and Olivia here?” She asked waking back inside having decided it was time for her parents to just go already.

They all laughed and Joe said “bye, guys. Have fun” before walking inside the house and telling James “let’s go and see if we can find them, yeah?”

“Okay” she told him while grabbing onto his hand that wasn’t holding the bags.

“I guess we’re going now” Blake said. “Thanks, Taylor, just call if you need anything.”

“Don’t worry, just go and have fun, we’ll see you tomorrow” she answered.

“But seriously, Taylor thanks” Ryan told her, “we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, guys” Taylor said as she went back inside and closed the front door.

(I hope you enjoy it! Part two should be here tomorrow!)

[jpllotteringwholocked2210]

My first fanfic Pt. 3

Hi guys!! Firstly, I want to say SORRY for not uploading this sooner - I said it would be up soon and then waited THREE MONTHS :((( I am so sorry!!! But please still read it!! I’ll put the whole thing up as usual so you don’t have to scroll through old posts to find Pt. 1 and 2...! <3 Sorry guys!! Hope you like it...

THE LAST THOUGHT.

 Will Solace woke with a start. Loud bangs were coming from his neighbour’s room again. He rolled over and peeked at his phone to check the time.

03:47.

What. The. Fuck.

Will groaned, hoping to god that they would stop moving and making such a racket soon, and he nestled his face back into his bright blue pillow decorated with suns. He exhaled, his blond curls drifting over his freckled forehead.

Bang. Bang. BANG.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Will thought. 

He had no idea what these noises were, but they had been happening for days now, ever since his new neighbour moved in.

He didn’t usually get annoyed, but it was all he could do to not scream at the wall in frustration. He hadn’t even met his new neighbour, as they seemed to never exit their apartment.  Obviously still alive though, with all this noise. Will frowned, and wriggled further down his bed.

At first, he had hoped his new neighbour would be cute and funny and friendly (and, as Leo wouldn’t stop reminding him, “maybe even boyfriend material, amigo!”), but no such luck. He didn’t even know what gender his neighbour was, and after all this racket, he didn’t care if they were the sexiest man alive.

BANG.

Staring at his ceiling and cursing silently, he resolved to knock on their door tomorrow and sort this out…

***

Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEP. BEEP. BE-

“Ugh.”

Nico di Angelo smacked his alarm clock, swiping at his bedside table, and threw his black duvet over his head, grumbling about the loud noises he heard last night at an ungodly time that morning.

Nico only moved in a few days ago, but he didn’t want to make any effort to get to know his neighbours despite his half-sister Hazel’s insistence that he should “at least try to pretend he had friends and a bit of a life”. Although that made Hazel sound harsh, she was a lovely person and an even better sister, and she really cared for Nico, which is more than Nico could say of anyone else. Besides, she had a point. Nico had never really made an effort with people, mostly because he was terrified of what they’d think of him.

“Weirdo.” “He’s not normal.” “Bell-end.”

Nico buried his face in his mattress, curling up in a foetal position whilst trying to forget the high-school dicks that took great pleasure in tormenting him. High-school had ended a year ago. He was nineteen. He should be over this.

He wasn’t.

Nico looked at his alarm clock.

07:35.

He didn’t have to get up for anything, but getting up made him feel as if he had some sort of purpose in life, even if he just went back to sleep later. He sighed and got up slowly, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his dark tousled hair.

“You’ve got to stop doing that, you’ll go bald Neeks!!” His sister’s voice echoed in his head.  9 years, and Bianca’s voice was still in his head.

 He pushed a button on his De Longhi coffee machine and made himself an espresso. Hazel had referred to his new coffee machine as his “pride and joy” (which, Nico thought, was quite accurate as he was pretty sure his body was 90% coffee beans). He slumped onto his black leather armchair that his millionaire father had “generously” deigned to give him, coffee in hand, and thought about the sleep he’d missed. Whatever Hazel said, after these annoying banging noises, Nico was even more certain he never wanted to get to know his stupid neighbour.

***

When Will woke up to his alarm, he felt as if he’d only been sleeping for a second since he’d been disturbed earlier.

“Bloody new neighbour with their bloody nocturnal habits…”

Will looked at his phone, and cursed when he read the text that his friend Piper had sent him.

“WILL I AM TOTALLY SCREWED FOR TODAY. SERIOUSLY.”

“Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit.” Will groaned and put his palms to his forehead in annoyance. They had a test today that he had completely and utterly forgotten about. 

Med school was turning out to be way harder than he thought.  Not that he expected it to be easy, exactly, but the tests every week were even starting to wear him down, and he was definitely the most upbeat person there.

He got out of bed and ruffled his hair, pulling up his pyjama trousers so he didn’t trip over the bottom of them, and shuffled into the kitchen area of his flat.

Oh no.

Will looked around at his flat and wrinkled his nose. Pizza boxes and beer bottles covered the floor from last night. Why had he allowed Leo to come over?! It always ended like this, and Leo never ever helped tidy up. For one person, Leo not only ate like a horse, but also made so much mess it looked like a hippo had rampaged through the room.

Will sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was already running a little late and couldn’t afford to clean all this up now, so instead of sorting it out, he wandered to the fridge, pulled out a yoghurt and sat down. His phone buzzed.

“WILL I SWEAR TO ALL THE GODS I CAN’T DO THIS TODAY.”

Will wasn’t worried. Piper said this every morning there was a test and somehow managed to get above 80% every time. People usually would find this annoying. But Will chuckled. He loved Piper, as she was the only other med student who, when faced with Will’s bright clothing and incessant smile, grinned just as widely and said “I like you!”. Naturally, people thought they were going out, but Will didn’t mind it. It was better than having to openly admit the truth.

“You are not allowed to like boys, William. It is not normal.”

His mother’s voice echoed in his head.

At least with Piper herself, Will didn’t have to pretend. Piper knew straight away that Will was gay, and that didn’t bother her at all. In fact, she made it her mission to point out all the men she thought “worthy”. Once, Piper walked up to a guy in their class, and pointed in his face, wiggling her eyebrows at Will. Of course, at the time, Will was so embarrassed, he went tomato-red, but now Will giggled and blushed slightly at the memory. He really did love Piper.

He checked the time again.

08:05.

He suddenly remembered his resolution to confront his new neighbour.

Maybe that can wait till tomorrow…? Will mused, not really desiring any sort of conflict. Or maybe just after class… He decided to wait until later to choose.

He tugged at a strand of hair that fell in front of his blue eyes, wrestling with the possibility of calling in sick to avoid the test. But, as usual, Will felt guilty at even the thought of that, and so texted Piper to say he was on his way, and went back to his bedroom to get dressed.

Okay… he thought, as he left the apartment. Time to face the music.

***

Nico heard a bang as his neighbour left their apartment. He guessed they were quite clumsy, because every single morning he heard a thud as they closed their door, occasionally accompanied by an “Ow!”. Nico rolled his eyes and sighed. Clearly, this neighbour was deaf or something, especially considering all the loud noises that had been emanating from the flat next door. 

Nico put his coffee mug down on the ridiculously expensive black marble coffee table, (another “present” from his father) stretched in his armchair and dropped his head back, glaring at the ceiling. 

 Wasn’t the whole point of not being in school so that I could restart my life? Find a hobby? A career? A friend…? 

 Nico sighed and rubbed his eyes. A friend was the least likely of the three he would ever have. He never had got along with people. People didn’t get along with me, he thought. Not since Bianca died…  Nico breathed deeply. He really missed her. He missed her ability to cheer him up with only a look, the constant glint in her eye, her laugh, her energy, her voice…

Great. Wallowing in self-pity. Nice. 

A faint buzz interrupted his sombre thoughts.  Nico forced himself to stand up, glancing at his mobile phone that he’d chucked on the kitchen worktop. 

Neeks. Emergency with Dad. Hazel xx

 Ugh. Leave it to our father to screw things up.

 Be right there N x

 Nico picked up his keys and was about to step out of the door when he looked down and realised he was still wearing his novelty Darth Vader pyjamas that Hazel had given him as a joke. Nico smirked despite himself, and went back to his room to quickly pull on black jeans and his ACDC t-shirt. Hazel called this his “rock-emo look”, but Nico had always felt black was his colour. 

 Yet another thing people at school took the piss out of me for.

 He tugged his trainers on, grabbed his leather jacket and stepped out the door, raising his eyebrow at a mound of miscellaneous cardboard that resembled…pizza boxes?…outside his neighbour’s door. 

 Typical, he thought, turning his back on the curious disorganised lump and striding through the corridor to the outside world. 

***

Well, that was awful. 

Will ran his hand through his hair, frowning at the space where his test had been. He sighed, and looked over at Piper who was grinning at him, mouthing “THAT WAS NOT TOO BAD”, and he made an extreme pouty grumpy face to show her that he did not feel the same. Piper winked at him and stuck her tongue out, her hazel eyes shining. 

Will sulked, wrinkling his nose and scrunching his eyebrows together, but couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter when Piper stood up and melodramatically blew him a kiss. Piper tossed her braided hair over her shoulder and winked again, giggling at Will as he struggled to keep a straight face. Will really loved her to bits. 

“Why the looooong face, Will?” 

Will looked up from his seat and met Piper’s inquiring eyes, and shrugged his shoulders. “Pipes, the test was so bad. I don’t even know if I answered half of the questions in comprehensible English!”

Piper tilted her head to one side, her choppy fringe drifting across her forehead, and put her hand on his shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was!” She grinned and ducked to catch Will’s eye, and he smirked back, standing up to sling his rucksack over his shoulder. They walked for a minute or so in silence. Will was still worrying about the test, and Piper wasn’t sure whether she should interrupt his thoughts. They stopped outside their classroom and Piper checked her phone.

“Ooh we’ve still got ten minutes! Shall we just stay here?” Will nodded, but stayed quiet.  Piper frowned, but then her face lit up with a wide smile. “I have something for you!” 

Will frowned at Piper. “Ummm Pipes, last time you said that, you introduced me to Leo. I don’t need to remind you how well that turned out.”

“Oh Will, don’t be so dramatic, you love Leo now!”

 “Yeah I do”, Will admitted, “but not in the way you hoped!”

Piper chuckled, and pulled something that resembled a fur-ball out of her tote bag. “Here.” She pressed it into his hand. 

“Pipes…why have you given me a dead rat?” 

“It is not a dead rat! Jeez, Will. Is this the thanks I get for giving you a lucky rabbit’s foot?”

“A what?!” Will dropped it, squeaking and wrinkling his freckled nose in disgust. Piper picked it up again, putting a hand on her hip and waving the foot at Will.

“A lucky rabbit’s foot. According to mum, it’s meant to bring you all the luck you need!” 

Will looked at the strange object, slightly freaked out by the idea of it having belonged to a real animal. “Well if it was so lucky, you could’ve given it to me before the stupid test then…” Will grumbled, gingerly taking the foot and stuffing it in his jeans pocket. 

“Will, why are you being such a grump today?” Piper pouted, furrowing her eyebrows. 

Will looked at her and sighed, feeling guilty. “Sorry Pipes, I just didn’t get a good night’s sleep. It’s this neighbour! They don’t seem to understand that 4am is not an appropriate time to refurbish their flat!”

Piper studied Will’s face for a second, before bursting out laughing. Will felt his face grow hot, and was slightly confused at Piper’s reaction. 

“What?! Pipes this isn’t funny! It is so annoying and I can’t get any sleep and it’s endless and- PIPER!”

Piper was crying with laughter, doubled over and cackling loudly. “I’m sorry Will, it’s just, your face, and you looked…so furious” Piper wheezed, and Will stood opposite her looking disapprovingly. Piper was just standing there, guffawing in the middle of the corridor.  

“Are you quite finished?” Will crossed his arms, attempting to look annoyed, but really just smiling along with her. 

Piper had tears streaming down her face, and was laughing so hard that she was spluttering, and she started coughing loudly. 

“Oh god, Pipes! Are you okay?!”

Piper just nodded and giggled, and Will rolled his eyes at his friend. 

“Pipes, you are certifiably insane.”

“I’m not the one who sounds like a grandpa at the age of 19!”

Will chuckled, and just as he did so, the bell rang to signal the start of class. Ugh, Will thought. More brain-work. 

As they wandered into the classroom, Piper mused “So…Will…this neighbour…are they cute?”. Will turned around to Piper winking, with a mischievous glint in her eye, and he rolled his eyes for the second time in five minutes.

Yet, as Will sat down and pulled out his books from his bag, he found himself thinking… what if they are…? 

***

Slipping his motorbike keys into his pocket, Nico knocked on Hazel's door. He hadn't noticed his father's black Mercedes S-class outside, which was confusing, as Hazel had clearly mentioned trouble with their father. Nico figured that, in usual crap father-style, he had left after upsetting Hazel.

 Probably without even apologising or realising he had upset her. That would be classic oblivious and uncaring dad.

 Nico sighed, knocking again on Hazel's golden door of her flat. Nico remembered the day she picked that colour. He had thought then that it was absolutely ridiculous to have a golden door, but Hazel's heart was set on it. And when that happens, I know to let her have it.

 "Hey, Neeks!!"

 Nico flinched at Hazel's bright, unwavering smile and her diamanté-studded top. She leapt onto him, giving him a huge hug, and he smelt her coconut shampoo in her caramel corkscrew-curls as she buried her face into his chest.

 He couldn't help but smile as his sister stepped away and, with a little faux curtsey, waved him into her apartment.

 "Coffee?" Hazel sweetly smiled, and gestured to the coffee machine.

 Nico chuckled softly. "Go on, then."

 Hazel beamed, and walked towards the marble countertop in her kitchen.

 Nico was almost grinning too until he remembered why he had come in the first place.

 Dad.

 Nico took a deep breath and looked at Hazel, rubbing his arm in nervousness. "So...what happened...?" Nico studied Hazel's face. She still seemed surprisingly cheerful.

 "What happened when, Neeks?"

 "Um...wi-with dad?" Nico frowned, confused and concerned that Hazel was showing no signs of worry or distress. "As in, when he came over...what did he say?"

 Hazel wrinkled her nose, pouring some coffee beans into the coffee machine. "...hm?"

 "Hazel. You texted me?!" Nico exclaimed, now even more confused than ever.

 “Oh, aha I did, didn’t I?”

 “…Hazel…?!” Nico’s eyes narrowed, impatient for an explanation.

 “Ummm…” Hazel looked at the ground. “I lied.”

 “What do you mean? Why…?” Nico scanned her face, attempting to detect any slight hint of an explanation.

 “I wanted to ask you something…kinda…important…and wanted to, well, make sure you came over…” Hazel mumbled.

 Nico felt guilty as he saw his sister shift, seemingly uncomfortable, tugging on a curl.  

 “Hey…”, Nico stepped towards Hazel and rubbed her arm. “I’ll be here for you whenever, you know that.” Nico frowned, worried, and nudged Hazel’s arm, as if supplicating an explanation.

 Hazel took a deep breath, and nibbled on her bottom lip.

 “Well…basically…there’s this…ummmm…” Hazel blushed slightly.

 “Yes…?”

 “Guy.” Hazel squeaked out, looking everywhere but at Nico.

 Nico’s eyes widened and his eyebrows almost shot upwards and off his face. He looked at Hazel, and she met his gaze with worried eyes. Then, Nico snorted.

 “What…?! Neeks!! What is it?!”

 Nico doubled over laughing, wheezing slightly. Any semblance of a ‘bad boy’ persona had evaporated as Nico started crying with laughter, shaking slightly as he spluttered:

 “Nothing…aha…nothing! Just – Well I – I thought you were about to tell me something awful! Not that you liked a boy!”

 Hazel punched Nico in the arm. “This is serious!!” she exclaimed, with a fiery look in her eyes.

 Nico looked at his sister, attempting to keep a straight face. “Alright, alright! I’m – aha – I’m sorry!”

 Hazel blushed furiously, turning her back on Nico. “Here’s your coffee.” She said, plonking it down on the kitchen surface in front of him.

 “Hey, Hazel…I think it’s great you have found someone. Really.” Nico smiled at her. “What’s his name?”

 “Frank.” Hazel grumpily supplied.

 Nico tried to suppress another chuckle that almost forced its way out of his mouth. He coughed, “Ah, how do you know him?”

 “School. He’s in my Art History class.”

 “Great! I know how much you love that.” Nico smirked. “…He isn’t the reason you’ve been gushing about those classes is he…?”

 Hazel narrowed her eyes, lightly punching Nico’s arm again. “Shut up! No, he is not!!”

 Nico snickered, and this time Hazel couldn’t help herself either. She giggled and gave Nico a hug, and Nico wrapped his arms around her, giving her a little squeeze and resting his head on the top of her caramel curls.

 “Honestly Hazel, I’m so happy for you.” Nico stepped away, grinning again. “So…when can I meet this Frank?”

 “Neeks! It is not anywhere near serious! And you are not scaring him off, okay?!”

 Nico raised his hands in surrender. “No of course not!” He smirked. “Just need to make sure he’s good enough for my little sis.”

 “Hmmm...” Hazel raised an eyebrow. “How about…no?”

 “Awww come on Hazel, I’m intrigued now!” Nico smirked again.

 “Not now!” Hazel narrowed her eyes cunningly. “Anyway, what about you?! Is there anyone for you, big bro?”

 Nico just rolled his eyes and shrugged.

 Yeah right, as if there would ever be anyone who would like me.

 ***

 Will pushed his shoulder into his door, turning the key. He threw his bag on the floor and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, resting his hands on his temples.

 “Ughhh…” Will groaned. That last class had been hell. Will had been completely lost from start to finish, and he got a headache in the last 20 minutes that had made it even more impossible to concentrate.

 His phone buzzed, and Will glanced at it, still cradling his temples.

 “Hey amigo, you still up for the party tonight?”

 Shit.

 Will had forgotten that Leo had invited him to a college party, and if he was brutally honest, he really did not want to go. But, he also didn’t want to let Leo down.

 He started typing:

 “Hi bro, yeah I would love to!”

 Then he remembered the last time he went to one of Leo’s college parties. Will had been left all alone within 5 minutes of him arriving because Leo had found some poor girl to spend the night with, and Will ended up sitting on a sofa with two other guys who kept asking him whether he’d be up for a threesome.

 Ugh.

 “Actually, I’m sorry bro, I’m not feeling too well. Hope you have fun!”

 Will sent it, relieved that he had made the decision not to go, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He stood up, sighing, and thought of the sleep he had lost the previous night. Will then remembered he still had to confront his neighbour about that.

 Maybe some other time…

 He picked up his bag and made his way towards his bedroom, collapsing on his bed with his bag under him and his shoes still on.

 Knock. Knock. Knock.  

 Will frowned into his pillow. Surely that wasn’t someone knocking on his door? He had already told Leo he couldn’t go this evening, and he wasn’t expecting Piper.

 KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

 This time Will couldn’t pretend it wasn’t for him. He scrambled to his feet, shuffling out of his bedroom. He opened his door.

 Wow.

 Will was greeted by, put quite simply, the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He had thick, wavy, jet-black hair, gently parted at the side, and was wearing a leather jacket that hugged his shoulders and arms. His skinny black jeans accentuated his muscular yet lean physique, and Will’s eyes widened as he noticed a strip of skin peeking out between his ACDC t-shirt and the waistband of his jeans. Will suddenly felt extremely underdressed in his light blue jeans and yellow t-shirt. He hurriedly attempted to smooth down his curly hair, which was undoubtedly tousled from his earlier collapse onto his bed.

 “Um. Hi.”

 Idiot. Hi?! Any stupid person can just say hi!!

 “Hello. I’m your neighbour. Nico di Angelo.”

 “Hi.”

 Again with the hi?! AGH!

 “Um, I mean hi. Nice to meet you Nathan.”

 “Nico.”

 FUCK.

 “Nico, sorry! It has been a long day! …I like your um…jacket.”

 I LIKE YOUR JACKET?! William Solace what are you doing you stupid man?!

 “Thank you. I was actually knocking to…to say hello.”

 Will grinned broadly. “Oh, well hello!”

 Nico looked slightly surprised. “Er…what’s your name?”

 Stupid!! Why didn’t Will say his name before?!

 “Oh, I’m Will. Will Solace.”

 “Great.”

 Great…? What did that mean…?

 Will felt himself blush furiously as he had eye contact with Nico’s chocolate-brown eyes, and averted his gaze.

 “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

 “Yeah, you too – er, Nico.”

 “Goodbye.”

 “Bye.”

 Will closed his door, and leant against it. What had just happened?! Will had a god for a next-door neighbour. An actual god. He was gorgeous! And his voice…so rich and…well… sexy. Will took a deep breath, attempting to register what had just happened. He slid down to the floor by his door and put his hands on his cheeks. He was burning hot!

 Ugh…I probably looked a right red idiot! Getting his name wrong, and then complimenting him on his jacket…Argh…!

 He closed his eyes and tried to imagine his neighbour’s face again, still in slight shock from the encounter.

 ***

 What just happened?!

 Nico walked back into his apartment, and sat in his armchair. At first, he hadn’t even wanted to meet his neighbour, but then he resolved to confront them about the loud noises, before it got even worse. He had been so ready to get angry, but something had happened. He just lost all sense of anger when he looked at…Will, was it? There was something about him that made any anger he had dissipate…Something about his freckled face and curly blonde hair that slightly stuck in all directions…and his tight jeans…and his even tighter yellow t-shirt…

 He looked down at his outfit and cursed slightly. He looked like an overgrown middle schooler that listened to music alone in his room. But why would that bother him? It never usually did, in fact, he revelled in the fact that he still rocked the all-black look and didn’t care what people thought.

 Idiot.

 Nico relaxed into his chair, crossing his ankles. He thought back to Will’s grin…how it lit up his whole face, illuminating his already perfect features, making his blue eyes sparkle.

 Shit.

 Nico’s eyes widened.

 What am I thinking?! Perfect features?! Sparkling eyes?! Oh gods…

 Nico chewed on his bottom lip, sighing heavily.

 This cannot be happening. I don’t even know this guy! Next time I see him, I will confront him about the noises. Maybe he has a boyfriend…? Or girlfriend…

 Nico stopped himself from thinking too hard about the possibility of his neighbour having a partner.

 Ugh.

 Nico closed his eyes.

 What is happening…?

 ***

So... the boys have finally met!!! HOW EXCITING!!! Plz leave comments/thoughts/constructive criticism in the comments and like/reblog if it floats your boat!! <3 Love you all!!!

[jhaviguk]

Difficult || Ch.7

Genre- smut

Description- Jungkook finds out more about your family.

Word count- 1.6k

Shit, was I too obvious? Jungkook asked himself as he walked towards Jiyu’s bedroom. After everything he said, he really wished he hadn’t. The only thing that was running through his mind was what you were thinking.

What if she really never ends up liking me back? Argh! I should have kept my mouth shut. As Jungkook stepped into the bedroom, he saw Jiyu sitting on the edge of the bed hands, gripping the sides. Her face was stiff, clearly clenching her jaw. Jungkook sat himself down next to her.

“Is everything okay?” he asked looking at her, as she remained facing forward.

“Nothing, I was just wondering what you were doing in Y/N’s room?”

“I had work related business with her,” Jungkook chuckled, lightly. “You really don’t need to feel threatened by her, after all she is nowhere near your standard.” The moment those words had left his mouth he wanted to punch himself, but he had to keep yours and his relationship a secret.

“Hm, I suppose. Men always take interest in her though, I thought you would be the same,” she said turning to face him.

“I didn’t know that? but I’m not like other men.” However, Jungkook could not help but feel a pang of jealousy at Jiyu’s words. To him, you definitely stood out, he just wasn’t comfortable with other men thinking the same.

“I guess you’re not, that’s why only you’re worthy of dating me,” Jiyu stated. Jungkook couldn’t help but feel immense discomfort. How was he going to end things between him and Jiyu? He couldn’t carry on dating her knowing he liked you; he couldn’t be unfair to Jiyu. This was going to cause problems for him, but even more for you.

~

“Oh honestly, drop it! I said I don’t really care that much- and anyway you forced that answer out of me!” you cried.

“Yes, but I didn’t expect that to be your answer!” Jungkook argued.

“How does it make a difference if I prefer Captain America over Iron man?” you questioned. 

“Yes, but out of all the superheroes, you went for the enemy,” Jungkook explained.

“He’s not the enemy...okay, sure him and Iron man have their disagreements but they’re still friends,” you reasoned.

“Until he started beating him up in the last film,” Jungkook muttered.

“Dude, you really need to let that go,” Jimin said, sitting on a chair in front of the mirror, while a stylist was adding the final touches to his makeup.

“Exactly! Besides, the only reason you like Iron man is because he’s like you, arrogant playboy,” as you said this Jimin scoffed. He turned to face the both of you, to the annoyance of the stylist.

“Arrogant playboy? Jungkook? No chance, he only acts like that because he wants to impress you,” Jimin said, receiving a death stare from Jungkook.

“Really Kookie? I didn’t know you wanted my attention that bad,” you couldn’t contain you’re smile.

“What happened to calling me Jeon like the disrespectful person you are?” he asked, glaring.

“That’s saved for more heated situations,” you added.

“Wow, I don’t want to know what you mean by heated situations,” Jimin commented, to which you grimaced.

“I meant arguments! For the love of god, what is wrong with you people!”

“I ask myself that question every day,” he sighed. It was a difficult job helping the boys get ready before concerts. You had to admire the stylists that did it; you watched as they rushed here and there making preparations.

You moved back over to your bag, to get out your phone. Jiyu had said she was out, but you had no idea about her mother.

6:00pm

You: Is Sujin home?

sent

“Hey, Y/N!” Jungkook called to you from behind.

“Sorry,” you said rushing back over to him. He looked at you, eyeing you suspiciously.

“What were you doing?” he asked, to which you rolled your eyes. It was a common thing you did- especially when it came to Jungkook.

“Finding out if the dragon’s in its den.” He looked at you, confused. “I was asking Jiyu if Sujin’s home,” you added, impatiently. 

“I don’t think she is... well, she was missing when I got up this morning. Let’s hope she never comes back,“ he mumbled. You giggled.

“Don’t you like her,” you asked, as you fixed the collar of his shirt.

“Of course not, she was rude to you,” as he said those words, a blush appeared on his cheeks. Your lips curved into a smile, you let go of his collar.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Jungkook?” you laughed. “You don’t like her because she treated me badly, what’s the meaning of this?”

“No one can be rude to you...apart from me,” he answered. You hit his chest, and realised how rather firm it was.

“Ok, so it’s okay for you to be mean to me?” you questioned. Jungkook nodded. “I suppose, I rather it came from you than anyone else, at least I know you don’t mean it,” you said, looking down. 

“Of course, I don’t mean it, I told you I’m not a horrible person. Are you stupid?” You looked up at him and pouted, but quickly replaced it with a smile.

“Fine. You’re going to be tired after your performance. I’m going to go home, call me when you’re done,” you said, and went to pick up your bag.

“If the Dragon is not at home, we can have some fun,” Jungkook suggested. 

“What do you mean by fun,” you asked, turning to face him; eyebrows raised.

“What do you think my definition of fun is?” he asked, trying to hold back a smile.

~

It had turned out that Sujin was absent from home. You were glad that you finally had freedom in your own house. You had long wanted to remind Jiyu that this house had belonged to your father and not her, only your patience kept you quiet. The months since your father had died had been long and hard, no support had come from his family, in fact they had near disowned you. You had learnt how to survive alone since then.

You were sprawled over the sofa, legs hanging over the edge, television on while you flicked through your phone. The front door clicked opened and you looked up to see who it was. If it was Jiyu or Sujin the first thing they would ask was why you were not doing the household chores- which was the only reason Jiyu had let you carry on living with her. Jungkook, shuffled through the door, clearly exhausted.

“Hey, move up,” he said. You moved your legs and sat upright. 

“Wow, you look tired,” you stated, as you got up of the sofa.

“Yeah. God, that was some performance- hey, where are you going?” he asked grabbing your hand quickly. 

“I’m hungry, do you want something?” 

“No, I need to lose weight,” he answered, resting his head on the back of the sofa.

“Don’t be ridiculous, besides fans like it better if you’re healthy.” You tried to release yourself from his grip, but he pulled you back, onto his lap. You huffed.

“Jungkook, don’t mess around,” you said, as he snaked his arms around your waist. A thought came across his mind, something that had been bothering him for a while.

“You know, you haven’t told me much about your family.” You twisted yourself around, so you could see him.

“There’s not much to say, they all hate me,” you answered.

“What about your mum?” he asked

“She died, when I was young, about five years old,” 

“But I don’t understand. I know Jiyu treats you like shit, but couldn’t your dad’s family have kept you?” he questioned.

“Nope. I know it might sound cold, but I really couldn’t care less. They didn’t like my mum, so they never let my dad marry her. Then my mum found out she was pregnant. My dad’s parents were very traditional, they hated the fact that he had a kid before marriage. They never accepted my mum, they will never accept me.”

“You know what I find amusing though, they never stopped your dad from marrying someone like Jiyu,” Jungkook said, a look of disbelief on his face.

“That’s just it. To this day, I’ll never understand their thinking. My dad marrying Jiyu was the second worst day of my life,” you said, honestly.

“You don’t need them anyway, you have me.” Jungkook rested his head on your shoulder.

“Is that supposed to be an improvement?” you asked, sarcastically.

“Seriously, you’re so mean,” Jungkook said, pouting. He let go of you; you stood up.

“I know. I’ll be back in a minute.” You rushed into the kitchen and came back holding a tube. You flopped down on the sofa, next to Jungkook.

“What is that?” Jungkook asked.

“It’s a yoghurt tube,” you replied as you tried to peel the covering of the top of it. The tubes were always difficult to get open, but this was simply not budging.

“Let me-”

“NO! I’m not letting it beat me,” you exclaimed, pursing your lips. You attempted to pull the cover off with your teeth, your grip on the tube tightening.

“It’s going to burst,” Jungkook said, matter-of-factly. Sure enough, the tube exploded covering you in white splashes. You looked to the side. Jungkook looked at you, a smirk on his face.

“I told you so,” he stated, trying to hold in a laugh. You could feel the Yoghurt everywhere, on your face, in your hair, and on your clothes.

“Shut up! Oh god, this could only happen to me.” Jungkook grabbed you by the face, twisting you around to look him; fingers digging into your cheeks. There was a glint in his eyes.

“On second thoughts, I am hungry,” he whispered, breath fanning across your face. You knew you were about to find out what he had meant by his definition of fun. 

[baronessblixen]

At the grocery store

Word vomit prompt for the @txf-fic-write-in. I left it as is and please remember that a) English is still not my native language (in my next life, maybe) and b) it’s late. Any errors are mine. 

Mulder is lost.

He's holding the piece of paper Scully handed him earlier; a shopping list. Rather, he's clinging to it. Her neat handwriting is coming off in places where his sweat smears the words.

He needs to get a grip on things.

All right, he tells himself, straightens his back. Something plops in, or out, and he is reminded how old he is. So old yet he's acting like a baby. Baby. That's why he's here. All by himself, too. Scully is home with the baby and they need things. Like food. Not for the baby. No, William, the lucky little guy, has his food supplier in Scully.

And Scully needs food. If Mulder is good, and gets all the items she put on the list, she might even share some of it with him.

He crams the shopping list into his pocket – he has an eidetic memory, clearly he can manage to remember it all. Mulder puts both hands on the shopping cart. Here he goes. It's early which means many, many people. Old people. A not so old man passes by him, his cart full of goods. Mulder glances inside; fruits and vegetables. They need those, Mulder knows. He itches to take out the list again. There was that one thing that - his thoughts are interrupted when his cell phone buzzes. He stops moving right there and then and another old man – how many are there? – almost crashes into him, mumbling something. Mulder takes out his phone: Scully. Who else?

"Mulder! You're not done yet, are you?" Done yet? He hasn't even started.

"Uhm, no. I'm just in the middle of things."

"I forgot the yoghurts."

"Yoghurts." Mulder stares straight ahead. All these people! Why did Scully send him to this superstore? Clearly he could have gotten everything at a smaller market.

"Yes, you know the probiotic ones." The one he likes to make fun of, she doesn't say, but he hears it anyway and nods. A couple stares at him, quickly moves on.

"I know the ones, yeah."

"That's all. You have the list with you, right?" Her tone is accusing, just a little bit. He feels the piece of paper burn a hole into his pants.

"Yeah. Got the list."

"Well, then. Have fun." She hangs up and Mulder puts the phone back into his pocket. Showtime.

30 minutes later and he's lost again.

They don't have Scully's yoghurts. He's checked every aisle. Asked a clerk, a young, mean woman who waved him into a direction. But no yoghurts. Not the ones Scully eats anyway. Sweat breaks out on his forehead. He searches his pocket for the shopping list. If he's showing up without the yoghurts, he needs to make sure he has everything else. Everything on the list, Mulder.

But the list is gone.

Mulder checks every pocket. It's not there. More sweat. A mother who drags her child away; he must look deranged and weird. Spooky Mulder, nice to meet you. He's lost the shopping list Scully gave him. He's lost. So very lost.

He pushes the cart forward. No yoghurts. What else did she say they need? He has the diapers – those he figures are the most important item anyway. He's got the milk. He's not going to be the husband that, not that he is the husband, or even officially anything. Except William's father. That's the only official thing he is these days. Anyway, he's not the guy who forgets to buy the milk.

But he feels like he is forgetting something.

He glances into his cart. It looks good. Fruits, vegetables, frozen goods, meat, bread and cheese. When was the last time he's gone grocery shopping like this? Has he ever? He wishes Scully were with him right now. A nice family outing. The Mulders. He pushes the cart forward, his mind reeling, trying to figure out what he's missing.

The Mulders. That's what his brain concentrates on. That's not who they are, of course. William has his last name, though Mulder has wondered if Scully would have preferred her own last name for their child. But Scully is Scully. He's seen the way her mother looks at him. She doesn't say the words, but she really doesn't have to. Her look is enough. Always.

When are you going to make an honest woman out of my daughter?

Good question. He can't even do the grocery shopping. Scully would be better off if she left him and found someone else. Someone who doesn't lose the shopping list.

"Excuse me, sir? Is this yours?" A small child tugs at his hand. Mulder looks down at the boy who can't be older than five or six years old. He's holding a piece of paper. His shopping list.

"Yes! Thank you." He'd kiss the list, or the boy, if the scrap of paper wasn't so dirty. Or the boy a complete stranger.

"Saw you lose it," the boy says and grins. He's missing a few teeth already. Mulder wonders what William will look like at that age. The thought makes him feel warm, makes his whole body tingle. "My mom said to leave it. But you looked lost."

"Yeah, my…" His what? Wife? Baby mama? Love of his life? He doesn't get to answer, because the child's mother calls out for him and he runs off. Mulder stares at the list – or rather at what's left of it. It's torn off at the left corner. He squints. No, not missing any words. He is almost sure of it. Mulder nods to himself and goes off to pay.

Scully greets Mulder with a soft kiss and a warm, yet exhausted smile. She looks into his bags, and he sees her check off the list mentally. He watches her carefully, waits, chews on his lip, and then there's the sigh. Just one.

He's about to tell her that they didn't have her yoghurt when she lifts her head, stares at him.

"Eggs, Mulder. You forgot the eggs."

Without another words, he takes his car keys and his wallet. Eggs and yoghurt, he doesn't need a list for that.