#excitedly breathe in and then deflate. he's such an ass.

[commsroom]

What are your favourites wolf 359 one liners?

I'm personally hesitating between "forget a burrito in there ONE TIME" and "Sit your swiss ass down and pick a side"

those are good ones!! i'm gonna go with... hm. "of course i've checked -" [audibly pats down pockets] "of course i've checked my pockets!" always makes me laugh. and "why must you say words?" is really up there on the strength of the line delivery alone.

[bleedingoptimism]

“I’m sorry Steve, I thought we were just having fun! I enjoyed you taking me out and paying for everything that’s all…” Is what Shelley said to him when Steve walked into the bar and saw her flirting with another guy. 

Obviously, he smiled and shook his head, said everything was okay, ‘Just a silly misunderstanding’ and left, ever so graceful. But the second he was outside he cursed, tried not to shed a tear, failed, and then started laughing. 

He probably looks like a mad man, or a drunk. But no, don’t worry people, he’s not drunk or crazy, he’s just really, really stupid. He thought Shelley really liked him, he thought they were dating. And Shelley just assumed he was just another playboy so she played him back. He’s not even mad at her. She didn't mean to hurt him. It’s not her fault Steve is just so easy to hurt. 

Sighing, he gets his phone out to get an uber and hugs himself even though it’s not really that cold outside, waiting for his car, already imagining the big, greasy burger he’s going to order when he gets home. He deserves it, okay?

The car that pulls out has definitely seen better days, but it’s clean and comfortable so Steve doesn’t think twice about getting in. He offers the driver a smile through the rearview mirror, sparing a moment to notice his eyes are big and dark, and they crinkle when he smiles back at him. 

Steve sits stiff and straight for a moment before realizing no one is there to judge him right now and he deflates, sighing again and letting himself collapse against the seat. Still hugging himself to feel any sort of comfort, he bumps his head against the window softly a couple of times. 

“Long night?” The driver asks him in a friendly manner.

Steve meets his eyes in the rearview again and shrugs, smiling back crookedly “Thought I should go home early since I already accomplished making an ass of myself for the night”

He checks the uber app for the driver’s name, doesn’t want to be rude by not remembering. ‘Eddie’ chuckles at Steve's statement.

“You did, huh? Well good job on getting it out of the way then,”

Steve chuckles back, “Yeah, I was actually thinking I deserve a treat”

He notices Eddie looking back at him a couple of times before breathing an interested, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “A huge cheesy burger or something” Wondering what Eddie was thinking he’d say.

Eddie laughs again, “Oh! Right of course” and just when he’s about to say something else his phone rings.

“Oh, sorry” Eddie murmurs, immediately hanging up on whoever is calling. 

“No worries,” Steve mumbles back, sitting up a little straighter again. 

“So, what’s your favorite dirty burger place?” Eddie asks him. 

Steve can tell he’s trying to distract him from the mood he entered the car with and he really appreciates it.

He sits forward and leans his forearms against the headrest of the passenger seat, “Oh, there’s so many, but…” from this angle, he can see Eddie’s face better, and he can’t help but think he’s got a really nice looking profile, long lashes, full lips, and the cutest nose he’s ever seen, “I think Benny’s the best one” he finishes.

Eddie pulls at a stop light and turns to look at him with a smile and he’s so much prettier than Steve first thought he involuntarily gasps. But thankfully Eddie is talking excitedly and doesn’t seem to notice.

“No way you know Benny’s?! Benny is my uncle! Well, he’s married to my uncle actually- you know what I mean but yeah, Benny’s is great!” 

It’s such a weird coincidence that it managed to take Steve out of his stupor and he’s suddenly just as excited as Eddie,

“Really? Oh my god, I’m so jealous right now, I wished I could live at Benny’s sometimes” 

Eddie laughs, and just when he opens his mouth to reply his phone rings again. This time he doesn’t immediately hang up and Steve sees the screen light up with the name “you deserve better” 

Ouch, he thinks, and his heartstrings tug for his cute, sweet, uber driver. Who offered him friendly conversation cause he noticed he was feeling down and has the most beautiful laugh. He doesn't really know why he feels so strongly about it, he doesn't even know Eddie… but he still feels the text is right. Whoever hurt him, Eddie deserved better.

“Hey,” He says softly when Eddie hangs up cursing.

Eddie sighs again, “I’m so sorry,” 

“Hey, no. It’s fine,” Steve replies, resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He figures, after the way his night started, he’s got nothing to lose so he says, “So much talk about Benny’s I feel like I need to go there right now.” 

Eddie let’s out a distracted “Huh?” and Steve soldiers on, “Wanna change the destination and join me? You can take me home after,”

He notices Eddie doing a double take and blushing, “Really? I- Am- I- okay” he stammers but Steve can’t really figure out why.

“Yeah, you know, that way you don’t lose time on the job and have another ride?” He finishes and Eddie laughs,

“Oh, right. Yeah That- makes sense”

They keep talking about their favorite things on the menu on the way there and soon they are sitting face to face in a booth at Benny’s.

What a pair they make, Steve in a three piece suit, jacket off, vest undone and shirt rolled up to his forearms. And Eddie with sweats and a hoodie. 

Eddie is even better looking in the shitty dinner light and the blush that adorns his cheeks ever since they came in makes Steve wanna kiss them to feel their warmth.

Benny himself comes to take their order, and Eddie gets up to hug him and introduces him to Steve. They already know each other, because Steve does come to the dinner often and Benny lets Eddie know that.

Eddie thinks it's hilarious that they both have been here so much and never saw each other before, but Steve can’t help to think it’s a shame.

“I actually would’ve loved to have met you sooner,” he tells Eddie at one point and watches curiously as Eddie’s blush turns a few shades darker.

As they eat, Steve tells Eddie about Shelley, about his hopes, about misreading the situation, about his shame. How he doesn’t even think he liked Shelley that much, but he just wanted to have something real. Eddie gets mad at him for blaming himself, tells him it wasn’t his fault, that he’s being too hard on himself. And it’s not a bad thing to consider but all Steve can think about is how cute Eddie looks when he’s mad on his behalf.

Eventually, Eddie tells Steve about whoever was calling him. 

“I met him at my last job. I thought he was so cool but turns out he was actually just cold,” Eddie shrugs, “We dated for like 6 months or something, not that long but, I was miserable the whole time and I didn’t even realize it was because of him.” 

Eddie’s hand is tearing up a paper napkin between them and Steve tentatively settles his hand over Eddie’s, who stops destroying the napkin and smiles gratefully at Steve, holding his hand back.

“The worst part is I didn’t even break up with him, he broke up with me,” Eddie chuckles self-deprecatingly, “But he still wanted to keep me around I guess… And I… didn’t want to feel lonely” 

They both stay quiet for a moment after that, and Steve stares at their hands joined over the greasy dinner table and thinks about loneliness, about how he doesn't feel it right now, with Eddie.

“So, what happened?” he asks after a bit.

“I did eventually realize he was the one making me feel like shit so I stopped seeing him but he didn’t appreciate my new sense of self-respect,” Eddie says lightly and Steve instinctively squeezes his hand protectively, which makes Eddie smile again, “I’m doing just fine now though, I told him to fuck off and got a new job. And it’s actually pretty good, ya know?”

Steve can’t help but smile back at Eddie’s cute expression, “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, my own hours? Good money? Plus I’ve always liked driving around, it calms me. And I get to meet really interesting people…” he says, winking at Steve and making him chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad then. Proud of you for getting out of there,”

“Me too,” Eddie says and looks up as Benny walks over to them.

“Sorry to interrupt boys, but we are about to close for the night,” He says, stifling a yawn.

Steve looks surprised at his watch, it’s almost 2 A.M. He can’t believe he’s been sitting here with Eddie for hours when it only felt like a few minutes.

He offers to cover the bill but Benny fights him over it and says it’s his treat. And Eddie offers to take him home no charge. So they get in Eddie’s car again only this time Steve sits next to him instead of in the back and they talk about music on their way to his place while Steve changes the radio stations. Laughing, singing and joking around, it’s such a good time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, like they could do this…forever. But eventually they arrive at Steve’s building and suddenly Steve doesn’t want the night to end. 

He’s about to tell Eddie as much, maybe invite him inside, when his phone rings again, the ‘you deserve better’ staring at them. But Eddie immediately grabs his phone and hangs up, blocking the number after. 

“There, he can’t call me again,” he says with a sigh.

“Can I see your phone for a second?” Steve ventures, making a last second decision.

Eddie looks surprised but curious as he hands it over and Steve punches his phone in.

“If you ever feel like unblocking him, or calling him back… Why don’t you try calling me instead?” he says in a rush and then walks out of the car, not lingering to see Eddie’s reaction.

There’s always the positivity that he got things wrong again, got too invested too soon again and he doesn’t want to know tonight. He’ll deal with it later, if Eddie doesn't call.

🚗📱🍔💙

It takes only two days for Steve’s phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on his screen. He picks it up feeling a little out of breath for no reason at all.

“Hello?” 

“Steve?”

“Eddie, I”

“Wait- before you say anything I just want you to know that I didn’t call because I wanted to call him, or I was thinking about him. I called because I can’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?”

“Eddie- yes! It’s more than okay, I- I was hoping you’d call”

fin 💙

☕🥐💕 coffee? oovoo javer?

[chopper-base]

I bet you were great at the interview! Here's a question and I bet you will answer it so well.

Excuse me, yes, Mr. Base. How do you feel about Crosshair Bad Batch?

*starts excitedly vibrating*

How do I feel about Crosshair? Oh hoho! It should not be possible to love a character as much as I love Crosshair! (You may have not asked for a rant, but you are getting a rant)

I get that a lot of people were hating on him for the whole "sticking with the Empire" osik, but Crosshair, like the rest of the batch, were bred and made to be soldiers. Crosshair was, unfortunately, the only one with an active chip which, from the beginning, caused a huge tear in their squad. You have to realize, though, the batch’s whole thing of "never leave our own behind" was huge to them. No matter the mission, they stuck together and cared for each other. And in Crosshair's mind, when he needed the batch most, when his mind wasn't his own, they left him.

Yes, they didn't have much of a choice, but even after finding out about the chips, they still didn't go back for him. All Crosshair saw was them leaving him behind. Over and over and over again. In his mind, they had replaced him with Omega, so even after he got his chip removed, he stayed. He felt that the Empire was all he had. Being a soldier was all he had.

Even when given the chance to rejoin the batch, he refused. He couldn't see himself fitting back in with his brothers after everything that had happened. It's evident how much he still cares for them. They're his squad. His brothers. His family. He offered them a spot in the Empire. Not just to be soldiers, but to try to give them a purpose again. To fight for something. But the batch had found other things to fight for and had seen the evils of the Empire from a different angle. He chooses a different path, one that eventually led to more death and hurting. But also, in the end, led to his realization. He saw the way Cody reacted when he said, "Then they're traitors." He saw the way Cody almost seemed to deflate. I think this was the first spark in his realization.

Come the outpost, it took watching the Empire phase out, replace, and discard the clones for him to realize that he was next. That being a soldier wasn't something he could be anymore. He watched Mayday take his last breath. The lieutenant did nothing but watch as someone he began to care for died when it could have been avoided.

Even in the hands of Hemlock, being left behind again, he still risks his life to tell the batch to hide. He knows how much the batch cares about Omega, and even if he sees her as replacing him, he still is trying to protect her. He wants his family safe. He's not hoping for a rescue. He's not expecting his brother to come swooping in to save him. He's just praying they get away. Hide from what he knows the Empire will do to them.

Anyway, that's my take on him. Also, he's cute, and I wanna cuddle his skinny, tall ass til he accepts the affection-

[ichorai]

pearls and pastries ; j.jk

pairing ; pirate!jungkook x baker!reader (gender-neutral)

summary ; a crew of pirates have been pilfering your village for several weeks now and one particularly keen buccaneer has stopped by your bakery practically every visit; whether it be for the delectable pastries or for the sweet baker he's taken an interest to, jungkook couldn’t say. but there’s a catch - the baker doesn’t know that he’s a pirate.

themes ; fantasy, angst, fluff, pining, slight action, pirate au, baker au, medieval au

words ; 3.6k

warnings / includes ; descriptions of weaponry, stealing (from the rich), jungkook being a sad lovesick sap, pirate!bts, poetic sadness but when do i not do angst lmfao everything i touch turns into written sorrow </3

a/n ; written for the @ficscafe fic exchange event for @sunshinerainbowsbts !! i hope you like it <3 i'm definitely considering writing a part two to this :D

Jungkook wasn’t quite fond of parrots. Well, his mislike wasn’t necessarily directed towards the multi-hued rotund bird itself, but the fact that the wretched thing was squawking out a poor rendition of what Jungkook had announced earlier whilst clambering down the crow’s nest.

“I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery!” the winged devil screeched from atop Jimin’s shoulder, ruffling its bright feathers as if taunting him.

Shooting it the nastiest of scowls, Jungkook reached behind his head to untie the vermilion bandana holding his overgrown locks away from his narrowed eyes. “You better shut that bird up before I toss it to the sharks, Jimin.”

“If I let you do that, I’d also have to throw you overboard. The both of you are equally annoying,” the other pirate snorted in contempt, glancing up at his younger friend striding across the ship before moving his gaze back to the knapsack he was emptying for the pilfer. Out fell several empty bottles of rum, a few gold pieces glinting in the harsh midday sun, two jewel-encrusted daggers, and a worn eyepatch that suspiciously looked to be the same as the one Yoongi always wore over his left eye. “You seem to forget that we’re here to steal from the rich, not buy fancy breads! You’re lucky that Namjoon has half the decency not to kick you off the boat. Jin, however fond he is of you, still calls you a moocher.”

Rouge faintly dusted across Jungkook’s cheekbones as he coughed into his fist, lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I steal stuff sometimes,” he muttered under his breath. It was useless to defend himself against someone who saw straight through him.

“Sometimes, my foot!” Jimin scoffed, hiking the bag over his shoulders. “Bringing back a goblet you found rolling down the street doesn’t count, you know that, right?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes to the cloudless sky, far too stubborn to admit that Jimin was right. With not another word, the young pirate clambered off of the large vessel and onto the rickety docks, grunting upon landing. It didn’t bother him much that Jimin was irked at his lack of contribution. They were rich enough as it is; what was the rush?

The air was tangy with sea salt and damp wood as he inhaled a deep breath, setting off for your bakery. Walking there took exactly three hundred and seventy two steps. Jungkook had memorized the shortest route to your little shop, mumbling the numbers under his breath with a growing grin blossoming across his lips. He subconsciously rolled the sleeves of his white tunic down, the fabric concealing the pirate tattoos inked all over his arms.

When the youthful sea wolf stepped foot into your store, a familiar chiming of the bell hooked atop the door echoed across the cream-walled room. At the reverberating sound, your head peeked out from the kitchen situated in the back. An illuminating beam danced on your features, eyes lighting up with mirth at the sight of Jungkook.

It made the muscle within his chest slam against his ribcage, desperate to be freed from its confines because it belonged to you, and only you. He wasn’t quite sure when the sudden fixation for the village baker his crew was stealing from started, but he had acclimated to his own change of heart by visiting you as often as he could.

“Fancy seeing you here today. Are you coming in or are you now my human door stopper?” Your heavenly voice floated towards Jungkook, snapping him out of his thoughts. Sheepish, he shuffled inside, engulfed by the warm scents of chocolate cakes, powdered pastries, caramelized fruits, and toasted almonds. His stomach gave an impatient snarl at the sight of tempting desserts. You had also walked to the front of the counter, dusting your flour covered hands on an apron. Some of the white powder had managed to smudge on your cheek, and Jungkook had to resist the urge to reach over and thumb it away.

“Hi,” he said with the brightest of grins. “I’ve missed you.”

At his bold statement, you suppressed a chortle. “I think you missed those chocolate cream puffs you like so much, not me. What’ve you been up to while you were gone?”

Jungkook hesitated at that. For the short amount of time he’d been visiting you, not once had he mustered the courage to tell you of his true origins. A savage pirate like him shouldn’t even be around the likes of you. You had no idea that he was part of the crew that was robbing your village, and the very thought of you finding out had him terrified. You were a taste of all the goodness in the world, and Jungkook was afraid you’d crumble into ash if he dared touch you. The sinner had no rights touching an angel, after all.

“Visiting family,” he hummed, quick to move on. If you noticed his strange demeanor, you didn’t say anything. For that, Jungkook was grateful. “I brought something for you.”

There was something about your smile that seemed to expel any and all feelings of gloom in a room. Jungkook was no exception to this feat, his knees almost buckling against the soft pink counters. He righted himself by leaning his elbows on top and propping his chin up with a palm. Gods, he didn’t know he was in this deep.

“Oh?” you set your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. “To what do I owe such pleasures?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “For those cream cheese tarts you made me last time I visited. Thought I’d repay you.” Whilst saying this, he used his free hand to reach into his back pocket, fishing out a string of authentic pearls, adorned with a glimmering clasp of gold the same hue as the sun.

Your smile melted into a confused pucker, brows knitting together in a muted painting of hesitance, yet you ogled the expensive necklace dangling by one of his spindly fingers nonetheless. Where on earth had he gotten such a valuable treasure? “But you already paid me with money. I really can’t take that, Jungkook.”

Disappointment was easily detected as he slanted his lips to the side. “Alright, then.” He tucked the pearls back into his pocket. It surprised you how easily he had complied.

The worrisome atmosphere was quick to dissolve when the bell jangled once more. A small child meandered in with a toothy beam, holding a small pouch of clattering coins in their palm. They were no taller than Jungkook’s midriff, and he liked it a little more than he should have watching a certain softness adorn your features at the sight of the kid.

“I recommend the cinnamon apple pie. Or maybe the brown sugar crepes if you’re looking for something sweeter,” Jungkook said, gesturing to the treat behind the display glass. The child angled their head to stare at the taller man with wonder. “Anything Y/N makes is to die for, though.”

The child excitedly babbled something in return, but you didn’t quite pick up what they had said. You were far too focused on Jungkook’s animated features when he kneeled down to point at some more desserts. Sure, he was a handsome man, you’ve known that since day one. You’ve never really looked at him in this light. It was as if he were carved from pure luminosity, whittled by the hand of the most skilled sculptor. Everything about him was practically perfect; the gentle slope of his nose, the angles of his raised eyebrows, the dappled rouge of his lips, the beauty marks mottling his dewy skin, the dangerous cuts of his jaw, the twinkle of gaiety you found in his irises. With the sunlight filtering through the windows, it basked Jungkook within a golden radiance, the shadows casted along his face only highlighting his best features, doing nothing to aid your fluttering pulse. Has he always been this beautiful?

“I’ll have a slice of apple pie!”

The sudden clinking of coins being dumped onto the counter snapped you out of your trance, and you kindly wrapped up what the child ordered and handed them the paper bag. Both you and Jungkook watched as they smiled in thanks and trotted out of the bakery. Curse his handsome physique.

A little flustered by your earlier thoughts, you busied your hands by sorting the coins the kid had coughed up. Jungkook, ever the kind soul, merely stood with you as you worked, engaging you in entertaining conversations to keep you occupied while your store was empty. Where did the sun go once it disappeared down the horizon? Why did everybody else seem to enjoy the bitter taste of coffee except him? Why did his heart beat so quickly when around you? The last question he couldn’t muster the courage to ask, and much to his perturbation, he already knew the answer. You enjoyed Jungkook’s company very much; to the point where you couldn’t quite remember what it was like before he had sauntered into your life.

Before the both of you knew it, the sun was already setting. Jungkook noticed the way you deflated just slightly when red kissed the sky. It was a telltale sign that Jungkook was long overdue to go back to his ship. Yoongi would have his ass if he was late again. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. He felt like a fairy tale princess running away from the ball before his clothes grew into tatters. Well, in his case, he supposed it’d be pirate-wear.

Your smile betrayed only the gentlest hint of disappointment as you thrusted a bag of warm cookies into his arms. “Take this for the road,” you had said.

And so Jungkook did, smiling like an idiot the whole way back. A part of him absentmindedly wondered what your face would look like when you noticed that he had left the pearls on the countertop for you.

The ship rocked as the young pirate scampered across the deck at a startling speed, flinging the doors to the cabins open. Six older pirates stared at his panting form, a few looking on with unsurprised indifference, most glaring at him in disappointment. Jimin merely stuck his tongue out, his childish way of saying I told you so. There was expectancy in the captain’s eyes, but it waned away at an instant upon seeing that Jungkook carried nothing of value. Namjoon pinched the space between his brows in mild frustration.

Stiffly, Jungkook jerked his arm to thrust the bag in his hand forward. “Cookie?” he asked. Nobody said anything. Jungkook slowly brought his appendage back down, guilt roiling in his abdomen. “I take it you guys don’t want the cookies?”

With a huff, Namjoon stalked forward. “Of course we want the cookies, give me that.” He snatched the bag out of Jungkook’s hands and tossed it to Taehyung, who caught it with eagerness vividly splayed across his ruffled features. “I do have to admit, we’re getting tired of you bringing back nothing but sweets every time we go on raids, Jungkook. C’mon, kid, this is a team effort here. Look, just today Yoongi managed to steal a dozen coffers from a nobleman. The least you can do is try.” True to the captain’s word, there was a mountain of chests and boxes full to the brim with gold coins and shimmering jewels piled to the side of the cabin.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jungkook nodded in understanding, though not without a miniscule frown twinging his lips. What was a pirate without his treasure, right?

Taking note of his glum demeanor, Namjoon clapped a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “We’re not mad at you—”

Yoongi snorted at that.

“We just… want to help you help us,” Namjoon finished, ignoring the salty pirate’s quip from behind him.

The youngest man on deck raised his hand to his forehead in an awkward salute. “Yes cap’n!” Shame prowled within his chest; just thinking about the dishonor he brought to the pirate reputation by loitering in a bakery all day, ogling at sugary treats (and the sweet baker, but Jungkook digresses).

A part of him felt even worse knowing that he’d see you less and less, what with the other pirates breathing down his neck. He could only hope that you’d still look forward to his visits, though few and far in between.

Authentic bottles of expensive wines were shoved into his knapsack by Taehyung, lacing chains of aureate crammed into his hands by Hoseok, bars of cold silver wedged into the pits of his arms by Jimin, and more treasures thrown at the youngest pirate to hold as they lithely ran across the village. Being one of the stronger and more agile ones of the group had its downfalls, after all. He was being treated like a pack mule, hauling all the treasure for them. Not that he was going to complain; Jungkook knew that he deserved the rough-housing.

“Hold onto these for me, will you?” Yoongi gruffly uttered as he slid the thick hilts of gem-encrusted daggers into his belt. Jungkook complied hesitantly, but not without a suppressed groan of annoyance. “They’ll sell for more than a pretty penny, so don’t lose them.” The older pirate seemed to be in a grumpier than usual mood, considering he lost his eyepatch and the mottled scar crossing over his eye was on display for anybody to gawk at. It would’ve been worrying to Jungkook if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Jimin was merely prolonging his juvenile game of ‘keep away’, attempting to dance away from Yoongi’s inevitable wrath.

Perhaps being a pirate wasn’t his true calling, because Jungkook found that his mind kept wandering off to the matters at hand—running away from the guards. Though it was a relatively easy task (the guards were quite thick-headed in this village), he thought about the pretty plants dangling from the balconies of a building they jogged by, or the scents of exotic spices carried by the souq market not far from where they were. Most of all, much to his expectancy, his thoughts were centered around you. Had you gotten many customers for lunch rush? Were you lonely without him? How many times have you smiled today? Jungkook was all too fond of your smile.

Blinded by his unsaid affectionate ramblings, he only barely caught on to Namjoon’s quiet, “We shook the guards off for now. Be careful next time, Seokjin. The sun’s about to set soon; we should head back to the ship before it gets dark.”

Jungkook hissed out a small sigh of relief, bending over to catch his breath. Jogging across the village would have been no problem, but running with treasures twice his weight draped all over him was a different story.

When he righted himself back to standing, the sudden pit of shocked trepidation unfurled within his abdomen. There you were, beautiful as ever, but a terrifying sight to see. Normally you’d be the only person he would want to see, but as of this moment, you were the absolute last person he fancied bumping into.

Why now? He had the most rotten of luck.

Today you weren’t wearing your regular apron, but a pair of fitted grey trousers and a soft beige blouse far too large for you, hanging off of one of your shoulders as you cradled a basket of breads and cheeses and other groceries in your arms. It was a simple outfit, but one that made his heart clench nonetheless. The glinting of iridescent pearls draped over your décolletage had his breath stolen away from him as raw sentiment overtook his form. You were wearing the pearls he left for you and you never looked more beautiful. Jungkook, on the other hand, was clad in clothes that practically screamed pirate; a golden-clasped corset tightened about the small of his waist, a tattered white button-up tucked into his dark trousers, worn sea boots covering his feet. A large gun was also slung over the belt cinched around his hips, along with multiple daggers of the like, and not to mention all the riches and jewelry the other boys had thrown at him.

You couldn’t see him. No, it would absolutely ruin Jungkook.

Perhaps dropping everything he was holding in a panicked effort to dash away as quickly as he could was the worst possible thing he could have done to not warrant any attention.

The concerned and confused questions erupting from the other pirates as they whipped their heads towards their youngest comrade went completely ignored. He scampered away from them, lunging towards a shadowed alley and hiding behind a teetering pile of musty boxes. A stray cat nuzzled against his leg, but Jungkook merely shooed it away with a frustrated glare and not-so-subtle shushing gestures.

What a fool I am, the young buccaneer berated himself, pressing a knuckle against his temple in frustration. He waited for another minute, before slinking out from the shadows, peering around the corner to see if you were still there.

No sign of you. Relief seized his chest, but not without the gentlest flower of disappointment staining whatever solace he felt, a weed amongst the roses. Jungkook’s mind was still reeling from the fact that you were wearing his pearls.

Treading carefully, he strode out of the alley, turning the other direction before halting in his tracks completely. A queer, garbled noise tumbled past his lips.

It was you, a confused smile gracing your features, and all Jungkook could think about was how the sunlight was made for you, how you glowed in front of him, how he wanted to cradle you into his chest and murmur confessions of his pure, unadulterated love into your ear. But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead, he merely stood there, as if he was imitating a statue in all of his pirate glory. Terrified, regretful, and ever so angry at himself.

Fate was a cruel game.

The pearls shone prettily on your skin. A reminder of the best mistake he’s ever made.

Your eyes had yet to wander down to fully take in his appearance, for your expression still held fondness for the man that’s visited your bakery so often, still having no idea that he was a filthy pirate, locked into his molten gaze. “I think you dropped something…?” The golden chains dangled loose between your fingers as you held them out to him. Jungkook didn’t take them, frozen on the spot.

It was as if he could pinpoint the exact moment you found out his true origins. Your brows furrowed upon seeing the weaponry strapped onto him, one of his pirate tattoos on display (Jungkook cursed himself for not thinking of rolling his sleeve back down), and the six other men watching in silent despondency behind them. You had always been a sharp one, far too smart for your own good.

Or, perhaps, it's always been obvious. Jungkook was only wishing for the impossible.

“You’re a pirate.”

The statement wedged a stake into his chest, splintering his heart into pieces. When you stepped away from him, confused horror marring your beautiful features, Jungkook knew that it was over.

He lost you.

A flurry of emotions, overwhelming and tumultuous, evidently took over you at his lack of denial. You looked to be just as heartbroken as he was.

“You’re a pirate,” you repeated, dazed. You wanted him to say something, anything. Much to his surprise, you didn’t sound angry. You took several steps back this time. The weight of pearls around your neck suddenly felt choking.

The sudden calling of his name had his head whipping around to look at his captain, watching the brutal exchange with gentle sternness. “We have to go.” The guards’ll be coming soon, no doubt.

Jungkook looked back to you, any and all words lodged in his throat. Despite the fear in your irises, a soft expression of acceptance folded over your visage, for under all his pirate exterior, he was still the same man that you thought so fondly of from your bakery. The look was short-lived however, quick to fade away when Jungkook reached out for you hesitantly. A part of him pondered how a simple baker managed to steal from the stealer. You had robbed him of his heart, and Jungkook didn’t even try to stop you.

Upon seeing you inch away in mortification at your new revelation, Jungkook retracted his arm and pursed his lips. The agony clawing at his stomach was begging to be set free. He wanted nothing more than to get onto his knees and plead for your forgiveness.

I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was. I’m sorry I fell in love with you.

His name came out again, this time from Yoongi. That meant it was serious.

“I’ll come back,” Jungkook said, tears rimming the bottom of his warm doe eyes. You watched him start to trek backwards. “I promise.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, like he was swallowing down a knot of thorned ivy.

Before you had the chance to say anything back, he was gone, bounding back to his ship with his comrades. Not long after, the distant barks of guards pursuing them rang throughout the village. You took that as your cue to leave. Swallowing down the urge to cry, you forced your eyes away.

You hoped he wouldn’t uphold his promise, for the both of your sakes.

[sanghyukstattoos]

SF9′s reaction: you comfort them when they are exhausted and upset

Characters: Sweet guys who could only appear in your dreams 

Word count: lmao

Genres: Fluff, smut, suggestive smut 

A/N: For more works like this one, click here

Hearing the front door open, you called out, ‘’Binnie?’‘, voice distinctly echoing in the walls of the hallway. They were ghostly practitioners because your husband did not answer back. Like you, he had just come back from work, his briefcase already tossed to the side and entering the storeroom turned jacket area, he hung his suit jacket. Unlike his morning attire, his shirt was crumpled from the sleeves to the back and the belt was quickly rounded, thrown into the basket of belts. 

You watched him sigh in overall discontent, chuckling at his need to just take a day off and relax. You excitedly stretched your limbs, setting down the numerous take-out fliers you had pulled out. Your eyebrows went up and your mouth puckered in question. Looking from side to side, you wondered, what is the rush?

He had not answered your call but upon seeing you, he lit up, quickly moving towards you as a rabbit would when it is cuddled and gave you a tiny, baby peck on the cheek. You smiled in delight, walking along with him as he asked, ‘’How was your day?’’. You hummed, stating that it was hectic yet good and he agreed with the former point. 

‘‘Mine was hectic too’‘ he pouted and you caught his attention with a gentle smile, taking him in your arms and giving him a hug. He settled into your arms, the tiredness looking familiar to you. You were sure that his head was hurting. His expression was similar to when he was in a fucked-out state- hazily staring at you through those beautiful half-lidded eyes, lips slightly parted as he gazed at you, but only this time he was dreaming. 

‘‘You know’‘ he whispered, leaning into your embrace. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning into his chest as he rested in the crook of your neck. He did not explain any further, choosing to rest in the silence of your comfort. ‘’We should have some wine.’’ he whispered, hugging you closely. ‘’Now?’’ you asked, purely curious. He agreed and you replied, ‘’How about after we do this?’’, motioning to the bath.

You found it evident that he was fatigued, saying, ‘‘Come with me, I’ll wash your hair’‘. He happily nodded, taking off the rest of his clothes and feeling the stickiness of the day escape him. He felt less stuffier now than when he first entered the house, smelling like the office he had worked in all day. His eyes reflected greediness as he stepped into the water, making you chuckle, pleased that he was looking more handsome than ever and in good shape. 

First on your list of things to do was to grasp his face in your hands and kiss him. Passionately, your lips settled onto his, lovingly holding him in place. He was enjoying it, gently gripping at your shirt. Although he had this innocent appearance to him, the strength and endurance he had in his ambition paralleled yours, one of the reasons why you had fallen in love with him. There was little lingering, yet feeling like you could be closer. 

Sometimes, you spent your lunch with him, overlooking the pretty white blossoms cornering your building. It crowded your view of the often busy street and sometimes went bald but in your office, you forsook the working relationship you had with him. Sharing your food, plotting the evasion of your higher-ups orders- How could you explain it? It was intimate, fiery and included a tingle of the senses. (Perhaps, all of the senses?)

You wanted to love him over and over again, like watching one episode after the other, late into the night. The two of you were intimately brought together, your feelings escalating when you made love on the bed, on the kitchen counter on a lazy morning or on the sofa while watching some boring movie, sometimes switching fast sex to casual. 

He leaned back, hands quickly motioning to you, ‘’Get in here please’’. You laughed aloud, excitement filling your system like blowing air into balloons at birthday parties. He breathed out a sigh of relief as your fingers tangled in his shampoo-filled hair, white, scrubby bits everywhere, some even floating in the air. 

He was relaxed, soothed by your touches before he started giggling and playing with the water, running his hands through it and smiling at the ripples that formed. ‘’Should I join you?’’ you teasingly pondering as he pouted at you, maybe thinking, get in here? Please?. Not caring whether you were ruining your clothes, you took them off with your soap covered hands and threw them in the basket. He admired your figure and the way it was enveloped by the warm water. 

He welcomed you with extended arms and you straddled him, comfortably settling on his lap. You could not choose what to liken his smile too. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pretending to be distracted because you were unable to to contain the heat that rose to your cheeks that in turn, rose with your smile. You wanted to give him some advice which got pushed back when he began to wander your body, delicately bathing your skin with warm water. 

You paused, purely curious as he rested a hand on your ass while you were brought close to him, his lips encasing yours in a touch that evoked a heated response from you. You rose with the kiss, unconsciously grinding your hips against his tip that brushed your inner thigh. You were taken back with his unexpected actions, very much enjoying the effects.

He parted your ass cheeks, arousal flooding to your sex as it was embedded within the two of you. Every time felt congruously new, like a passionate relish of red, plump apples or biting into a ripe mango, feeling the juice trickle into your mouth, encasing your tongue in something watery yet sugary. 

He left you little to the imagination: water spilt out of the tub, rippling with fast movements. You threw your head back, heavily breathing, both of you vicarious in the feeling of sounds. You let out soft cries of pleasure while he thrusted his hips up, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching down on his member. He felt the smooth curve of your ass, grabbing it as he buried himself inside you, kissing every part of your body that was accessible to him as you held onto him, bouncing unrhythmically. 

He roamed your body, over and over again. You were lost right now, gasping, moaning, crying out in intimacy as you held onto the tub. You lifted your hip, and then in a quick, repeated motion, you met his own. You could feel him trail your legs as you got off him and faced the wall, hands slipping for grasp as he entered you from behind. He was pleased to end his day with you, to feel you around him, habiting his nearest surroundings. And for you words of advice, he was thankful too. 

Today had been rough. Inseong was swamped in how people were treating him, the intentions behind their behaviour ambiguous. So he found it vague to explain it to you or rather, find a label for it. He said that it was complicated and you understood, telling him that many things were hard to justify too, because it didn’t fit the category of direct and explainable. It was the small things that either added up or didn’t. 

Then came the pressure that followed such things. The embedded attitudes of people felt relentless. It was similar to an unjustified attack, tiring Seong out from daily routines and schedules. He had informed you of what was going on. When you asked him what his plans were, he simply shrugged, sighed and gave you a smile (keeping hopes up that it would go away). Some things did not go away unless you told them too. 

You couldn’t tell him to ‘let it pass’ or ‘ignore them’ because although it did not seem like it, those words were inconsiderate. Instead you told him to stand up for himself, in small ways, like their behaviour. You refused to see him hurt like this- partly defeated and showing easy acceptance of something that could be changed. You did your best to encourage him, lightly scolding him for keeping such a mindset in the first place. 

As he sat on the sofa, suit still on and laying exhausted in your arms, nestling into the comfort he found in you, you combed through his hair, wanting to ask him some questions. He mumbled his answers sleepily, not bothering to hide the truth from you, saying it plain and simple. As it should have been told from the start, you heard it, brainstorming of how to combat this. But both of you were equally worn out and so you accidently fell asleep in the living room, waking up hours later in each other’s arms. 

The next time, you had come home some hours after him, daylight fading into the distance but the blues had already set in, much earlier than you had thought. You remember entering the house and placing your shoes in the stand. You had placed your stuff in the bedroom, quickly changing into home clothes. All the while, the air was silent albeit the presence of Seong who had already texted you that he had reached home. 

You were happy to see him, having kissed him in a hurry to feel him on you unlike the first half of the day when you had so dearly missed him. After a good conversation, he downplayed the events in a deflating manner. The story was malicious and you did not appreciate their insincerity. They had treated him more roughly then before and it occurred to you that Inseong’s tunnel of vision had narrowed. In hope he thought that there wasn’t much for the future but you were infuriated upon hearing his story. 

You were still on for fighting back, not hitting the knees or lightly shoving. There was no sugar-coating, making the relay barren but you had wanted him to understand what you had meant. Instilling some fight into him, he had understood, swallowing your advice to find others that disagreed with this type of treatment. To find like-minded people and rid himself of his problem, once and for all. 

It wasn’t easy for him but in the coming weeks, you noticed a change- that he was happier than before. He was giddy and you reflected on previous memories, thinking that he had always managed to be happy, those people had just dampened it. Today, you sat with an unopened wine bottle, texting your friends till Inseong came home. And when he did, your phone was flung somewhere (so precious, hopefully on the sofa itself) and he took you into his arms, giving you a hug. 

You excitedly returned it back and the familiar thudding returned when you saw him smile, gummy version and lit eyes showing. Although he was tired, he was brimming with energy, agreeing to your proposition of wine and cookies. He rolled onto the sofa, throwing the covers over your thighs and leaning on your shoulders. His legs ached from the walk to get home as quick as possible but it felt worth it.

You gave him a peck, grinning as he cutely leaned in for more. The more you gave into him, the more you smiled from ear to ear. The screen of the television greeted your eyes in the bright light of the living room, heart beat steady as you embraced Seong. Bringing his hair back, you chuckled at his facial expressions that immediately relaxed, taking a sip of his wine in the process. ‘’That felt good’’ he commented, feeling the rumble of your chest as you laughed. 

‘‘Including your whole day? That sounds good’‘ you replied, cross-legged as you grabbed a cookie, Seong’s eyes tracing the crumbly deliciousness. Breaking a piece, you plopped it into Seong’s parted lips, smiling at his quick response to the melted chocolate. ‘‘It was and things are looking up’‘ he happily motioned, responded and you listened as he spoke more, entailing you to the details. You firstly felt happy, secondly thrilled that you had won, unanimously. 

You could hear someone distinctly coughing in another room, its nature echoing and reverberating and hence catching the attention of JaeYoon as well. He kept silent, not a peep from his mouth when the familiar pain affected his temples, lighting up like red lights around his eyes and cheeks, inciting him to desire a cough. 

You watched from your spot at the door, his back hunched and eyes monotonously staring at the screen. You flinched as you thought of the pain of staring into something that bright in a room so dark. As you leant against the door frame, you saw him harshly rub the pain away from his heavy eyes that would not open as far as they usually would. 

He looked like he was having trouble looking up, heavily exhaling as he tried to resist the pain. They grew stronger like the thudding sounds of boots against a wooden floor that by the second neared closer to you. 

He gets up from the table, his chair scraping against the floor as it is pushed back with sheer force of his anger, annoyance, irritation. It takes him less time than swinging a baseball bat to launch a last-minute defence than to grab the chair he sits on and fling it at the wall. He believes that no one around as he sighs, then shamefully picks it up and sits on it again, reflecting. 

You wondered what he was imagining, looking lost in thought. His cheeks turned red like the sunset, a gradient of embarrassment. What he was feeling was understood by his team members and although you were blameless, a part of your decision-making process pricked at your mind. It started to gnaw until you shooed it away, tricking you into thinking that his pain was influenced by you.

You were mindful of your perception of his situation, understanding that if you did not have the full details, you did not have the right to serve him harsh words either. There could have been more to what he had told you because he was an excellent soldier and knew how to weave tales to best fit his situation, even to his team leader. 

He knew now that you were at the door, shadow having shifted due to the movement of light. When he faced you, he settled his hair down, even though it already was- a habit he had when he was nervous. He yearned for your comfort like a hug or a few words of advice. It was not selfish of him for it was human desire and unable to breach the relationship he had with you, he settled for your praise whilst watching you from afar. 

Under your gaze, he felt nervous but his thoughts overcame him because he felt hardened to the fact that he could not change the past and knew still, that it was useless to ponder over such things. As you scanned his form, the anger he felt was irreplaceable and you felt that you could not soothe him, yet. For the kind of person that he was, you knew that he would pull through. 

You made your move to give him time, giving him one last look as you turned back and walked away. Hours later, he must have been calm, rationally thinking of the situation when you saw him in the swimming pool on the roof. Leaning against the wall, he put his phone down upon seeing you enter. You said nothing, his eyes wide and suggesting something that could not be put into a sentence. You expected him not to question and he did not, waiting for you to speak first.

As you slipped into the water, a line of goosebumps trailed your leg yet you entered without flinching, letting a wave of water swallow your body. You were engulfed and while basking in the liquid, you moved towards him, coming together for camellias and carnations presently unknown.

Warm sunlight and the mindless singing of birds filled the air like filling water into a jug. You paddled towards him, watching him stand up straight, eyes never moving below your jaw. He waited and waited till you came to him, till your face was as close to him as two threads sewn one after the other. His system was frozen, back against the wall, water still, only small ripples forming as you moved towards him. 

‘‘We can’t let someone know about this’‘ you mumbled, regretfully looking at his confused eyes. His lips were parted in question, words barely coming out as he shook his head in agreement. Unconsciously moving closer to you, you smiled, exclaiming, ‘‘Should I show you the place where everyone goes to take a break without me knowing? And you too apparently’‘. 

‘‘Did I read that wrong? Or something? I thought-’‘ he asked, clearing his head and halting your movements when you began to walk away. You chuckled, replying, ‘‘Hold on-’‘. You disagreed as you continued, ‘’No, you didn’t. I just thought it would be better to be somewhere private than here.’‘. He came to the realisation pretty quickly, turning his opinion around at the open space for a lack of privacy or none thereof in the first place. 

As he followed you, it clicked to him and he didn’t stop himself from asking, ‘’There is a place where people go to relax?’’. You laughed, pointing to some place beneath the surface of land, carefully opening the door. You marvelled in amazement when it did open, exactly as you were told, your eyes meeting his affiliating gaze based on the way you smiled in wonder. Reflective, you looked around, laughing as you caught each other turning at the same time. 

‘‘I don’t know why we haven’t been introduced to this place as yet’‘ you stated, seeing a glint of something shiny in the background. 

‘‘I agree and shouldn’t you know about this? Given where it is’‘ he motioned, pleasantly unsurprised, figuring that you had your own place to relax. As he bent down to crawl you responded, ‘’If anyone, I might be the last to know’’, drawing a laugh from the both of you at how true it was. 

The entrance was wide, allowing you to swim without hitting the sides. Lights lit the sides and you were met with a staircase, droplets cascading down your wet clothes as you stepped out of the water. Neither of you bothered to comment on the spiral staircase or the enormous dry room, filled with private corners of games, food and drinks. 

You stared at with mouths agape until Jaeyoon broke the silence. After finding a place to change into fresh clothes, you met him at the massage chairs, twined in a corner that gave you a view of the doors. ‘’Here’’ you handed him a beer bottle, asking him, ‘’Aren’t you going to switch it on?’’, looking around for a button. He shook his head, popping open the cap between the bend of his arm and taking a sip from it. 

Well, you thought, Jaeyoon’s attention turning to the buzzing machine as you relaxed, sighing in content. He was bewildered, asking, ‘’You turned it on?’’ while trying to configure the buttons himself. You met his stare, trying to playfully kick him, exclaiming, ‘’Stop staring at me, turn it on!’’, drawing a laugh from the both of you as he slipped into the darkness of the massager. You were caught in the trap of the machine, its gentle massages turning sinister. 

Your bottles were left empty handed as you felt the soothing motions of the machine. The place was appropriately sized for a team of eight people and two people had managed to occupy a small corner of it. You smiled, thinking of the room itself, trying to enjoy yourself in the moment without thinking of anything else. Meanwhile, Jaeyoon was drifting off, pleasantly lost in the idea of starting something new with you.

Sanghyuk leant on his elbow, propped up by the pillow, peering at you with ambiguous eyes. You merely hummed at his offer and a small smile tugged at your lips. This proposition of his always stood, no matter the circumstance. You thought that there was nothing for you to lose but you were wrong. And so you shrugged, tossing the covers aside and getting in beside him. 

There was a gap in between, obvious that he was treading the waters carefully. You laid next to him, not touching his arm or leg, perhaps expecting him to pull you towards him. The gap was evident, but only to the both of you. He lingered next to your fingers and you interlocked it, turning on your side as you asked, ‘‘Are you worried about something?’‘

Strands of hair flopped on his forehead as he nodded, taking in a deep breath. In doing so, he swallowed his stress and looked at you. He flashbacked to your features, expressions, mannerisms, recounting them one by one. Your breath hitched as he grasped your waist, pulling you closer till your body was touching his. 

There it was. He did not say anything, evident that he didn’t have a reason to be with you today. Unlike his usual line providing you an explanation, he chose to forgo one this time. And he didn’t need to. There had been another fall today at work but he didn’t particularly care about it. Not until he heard you say in that tone of voice, ‘’It’s all the same, it doesn’t matter’’ with that look in your eyes.

It was as if you didn’t know each other that well, that you hadn’t been sleeping with each other all this time. Like he had once heard, there is an emotional component to sex. All he had done then was nod, but then began his doubts and he wanted to know if it was true. 

If you reciprocated his feelings. You cleared your throat, removing the strands of hair from his face. ‘’Say something’’ you murmured, and he only replied by caressing your cheek and bringing you closer to him. He wanted your lips, to feel you on every part of his body and for you to pull him close and hold him and tell him how much of a good boy he was for you. 

‘‘You look like you’re in a different place today’‘ you continued and he decided that he would tell you. His heart began racing and he got nervous, shifting his line of sight to the ceiling. You sighed in frustration, leaning a distance away from him, removing his hand from yours. 

There was no rule that you couldn’t like each other, you were adults and you could sort this out as it happened. But you hadn’t known why you did not speak about it all this time. You had purposely thrown him off these days, either by telling him that you were busy and you couldn’t meet up with him or that you just were not available. And like that, what was in sight was out of mind. 

But it hurt you. To see the look on his face was painful and you could remember crying about it once. But whatever your reason was, you wanted to settle this. 

Your friend could not understand why you wanted to turn Sanghyuk down. She was in disbelief over his physique and how sweet of a guy he was and the fact that the two of you got along very well. She was proud of you for finding someone whose intentions were good, inside and out. ‘’You need to say something Sanghyuk’’ you said, reaching out for his hand. 

‘‘I’m not sure how to-’‘ he started, waving his hands in the air. But he pulled you, planting his lips on yours. And you did this thing with swinging around on your decisions. You gave in, kissing him back. It was pretty, sure, because you had kissed many times. This time, there was a confession leaning over your head and Sanghyuk did not anticipate the fact that you would accept. 

You needed to think about it. ‘’Please stop thinking so hard. Tell me. I just want to tell you that I like you. You want to say, ‘’Although, I like you too, it’s complicated’’.’’. It was a gold-mine worth of information which shouldn’t have been worth its value. As you leaned back and told him, he listened and just when you had finished he groaned out a ‘’come here’’ and pulled you into his arms. 

In three moments, he told you some statements that began to mean so much more than some cheesy lines written on a paper. Perhaps, when those lines were written, the writer had empathised with the person and then understood the deeper meaning of those lines. You realised that you hadn’t read the text properly, skimping over it. But now, you gasped in awareness, his softness and gentleness bringing tears to your eyes. 

He wiped them away, pressing a kiss to each cheek. The two of you laid there in the peacefulness of being in each other’s arms, the threads of your relationships being folded by beautifully intricate knots. When the last hours of the week had arrived, Sanghyuk was so exhausted that he fell asleep in your arms. You had been watching tv as he sat there, persistently asking to eat you out. 

You had narrowed your eyes but you then as you looked at him, you remember caving in. The yes was fairly quick. He also moved quickly onto his knees, clearing telling you, ‘’Thank you’’ before he took off your bottoms, propping your knees on his shoulders. You had tugged his hair, making him go faster as your eyes absent-mindedly trailed to his messy nose and mouth. 

You had told him how much of a mess he was making and when you asked him if he liked it, he proceeded to giggle. He ate you out multiple times, ignoring the ache of sitting on his calf muscles and only focused on you. You cleaned yourself up, making a mental note to return the favour, in another way as you tucked him into the sofa, throwing your leg over him and falling asleep like a baby. 

'’Are you feeling okay?’’ you asked your boyfriend, whose sighing was aimless, less than distinct the fatality of the sound of giving up. He was constantly running his hands through his hair. However, to take the hair out of his face he was met with the bright sunlight that the open curtains let through, shining almost everywhere apart from you. 

You were barely covered by the warmth of the high-numbered tog cover. Each part of your body was warming up, leaving with something of an uncomfortable feeling. Seokwoo was rehearsing lines in his head, too many thoughts swarming, not permitting him to concentrate. He was unaware that you were watching him, almost losing him to a daydream. 

Attention on him when he discarded his slippers, you pulled the covers over him as he settled into your side. He grumbled nonsense words that made you chuckle, lovingly caressing his cheek, losing your grasp as he smiled. You smiled back, nestling into the warmth of his arms, throwing an arm over him and kissing each eye that blinked in wondersome, secretly glowing with love too.

He laid on his back so that you were on top of him and hence, earned a giggle from you. Looking at you, he softly spoke, not vague in his indication of what he was speaking about, ‘’You know how I’ve been working all these days?’’. It was unfair, that so many people in his profession had to deal with a distinct loss of sleep and fatigue.

You hummed, encouraging him with a nod, understanding that it was building up and today, he couldn’t seem to make it work with what he had in front of him. ‘’I can’t do it- No, I can but I’m too tired right now’’ he continued, heaviness not allowing him to continue. 

As he told you the details in a soft, whispery voice and light-heartedly neutral tone, you felt a deep sense of sadness overcome you. You wanted to help him so you told him many things. There was a story of your own work, wrapping the details with a snapping recovery from previously stimulated events. All the while, he listened carefully, not saying a word, occasionally asking a question or too. The latter especially made you smile as you carded your fingers through his hair, laying your head on his chest while speaking to him.

‘‘It won’t be the defining moment of your life, ever. It always feels like it in the moment but when you pass it, you won’t look behind. And when you do, it will be because you have already encountered something so difficult. ’‘ you spoke, peeking at him humming in agreement. ‘‘How much longer do you think you’ll need on it?’‘ you asked and he sighed, lost in contemplation over the calculation of the number of days he would need for this. 

You chuckled, grasping his fingers and softly nestling against his cheek, bringing him back to reality. ‘’Should we do something instead? Maybe you can take a break for a little while?’‘ you questioned, thoughts already forming in your head. He lit up at this idea, giving one last look to the work on his desk before you tugged him along to the kitchen. 

‘‘It’s good for you, you know. Like it’s good to get out and do stuff’‘ you said with a laugh, flailing your hands arounds to try and get him to understand that you wanted him to cook. You held back your laughter as he stood there with an apron on, utensil tilted at an angle, egg almost about to be whisked and an unamused expression adorning his handsome face. 

He had not thought that he would be the one to cook! The pearly whites of your teeth showed as he looked up, sighed, collecting himself while standing in front of the counter, holding in his laughter as he heard yours float the room. He shook his head stating, ‘‘You are so sneaky? When did you even put this on me?’‘ he laughingly questioned, motioning with an open mouth of feeling startled towards the apron that he had no idea how- landed on him. 

You whole-heartedly shrugged, smiling as you grabbed a handful of chocolate cereal, dipping them one by one in Nutella. ‘’Give me some’’ he salivated, opening his mouth as you filled it. He gladly received them, moaning in delight, instantly savouring the double-sweetness of the snack. 

His cheeks moving in cute, little circles as he crunched, flipping the sizzling pancake. Leaning back, he cleared his hair from his face and you admired his bare face. ‘’More’’ he said, bringing you out of your day-dream. You were watching the way he moved, licking his lips as you asked, ‘’Should we add some Nutella to the pancakes?’’.

He excitedly nodded, saying, ‘’And some bananas and that, what is it?’’, leaving you mid-state as you collected the ripe ones, peeling them open and slicing the softness. You began guessing, ‘’Caramel?’’ to which he replied, ‘’Similar!’’. You were suspicious, adding, ‘’Are you just going along with the first thing I say?’’.

‘‘No’‘ he stated, laughing, even more so when you said, ‘‘Yea, honestly, I can’t think of anything else. What do we have in the house?’‘. The pancake almost burned before you pointed to it and in a hurry he turned it over. The both of you sighed in relief because it could be eaten. It hadn’t been too far gone for it to meet the trash. 

‘‘The thing that people drizzle on their- oh! maple syrup!’‘ he exclaimed and it clicked in your head, saying, ‘‘That! Where is it?’‘. He threw his head back, holding back a playful groan, replying, ‘‘I don’t know. I have never tasted it’‘.

‘‘It’s been in our house for decades though’‘

‘’Don’t play. How did it taste?’’

‘‘I thought that it would really sweet you know?’‘

‘‘Uh-huh, like when they drizzle too much and the whole thing is just-’‘ he expressed distastefully with his mouth.

‘’Yea! But it wasn’t. It was kinda sweet and I ended up having some more’’

‘’What did you have it with’’

‘’Bananas and buttered bread’’ and he agreed, salivating in delight.

What a cutie, you thought, getting off your seat to pinch his cheeks and make cooing noises at him, then wrapping your arms around him and leaning into his side. When you looked up at him, he leaned to give you a kiss, beautifully wholesome and restrained, warm breaths exchanging as he comfortably moved against your lips, hands mid-air but lips softly pressing against yours. The pancakes sizzled, crisping around the edges as you softly moaned into the kiss, the thumping of your heart ever present in your ears. 

Almost as far as he could grasp the situation, he was also having trouble. The trouble to walk as he would occasionally stumble, he tried not to make a habit of it. He was sweating, mini droplets of blood splattered over the right side of his hair and face. 

He chuckled, muttering an incomprehensible set of words as he looked down at his right leg. It was bleeding, viciously. The blood was seeping from out of the wound and staining his trousers and he could feel it. He could feel its pain, jolting out his dream-like state when a car honked. 

He was surprised because it wasn’t that loud as compared to other cars. The sound was almost muffled and he smiled, clutching his leg as he continued walking. He shook his head, clearing his mind when he realised that he was supposed to be catching the suspect. 

Adrenaline flew through body, almost faltering but he wouldn’t give up. Sweat greatly stained his hair, dampening it to stick to his forehead. He stumbled, catching the corner of a wall to steady himself, and then he moved on. He walked and walked, not giving up and finally, the perpetrator was in sight. 

He weakly called out for you to stop. You had just taken a rough turn and although your muscles ached, you needed to keep going. The faint rustling of the detective’s steps and voices could be heard. You ran and ran, the distinct voices of cry ringing through your mind. 

You did not hear Zuho at first. He reached out for you in the darkness of the night, lightbulbs then collided with a huge trash can. The noise echoed and you jumped back, struggling to get yourself in the blind spots of the cameras that lined the alley. 

Breathing heavily, you glared at the figure that was crouched. You only figured that it was someone drunk or high, until the headlight lit up. You were taken back, your system freezing as you viewed the fatigued face of Zuho. Through the ups and downs of your career that had been impacted by the fall of various democratic powers, the two of you joined the resistance. 

In its early stages, when there were hardly many people, you slowly climbed the ranks, proving yourself to be an asset to the growing group. Zuho, on the other hand, remained close by, not desiring to engage in the ranks of the resistance. Instead, you kept your status as his mentor, teaching him how to hone his skills. 

He looked after the house that the two of you owned, taking on the role of domestic duties till you came home from work and made love to him. When the resistance wanted to utilise all their people to the best of their abilities, he gladly took on the role of househusband, even if they did not have a job opening for him.  

‘‘Shit’‘ you muttered, walking back to Zuho. The bells rang louder, the closer you approached Zuho. His lieutenant’s badge shone in gold and you crouched, desperately telling him, ‘‘I can’t take you back. They will find out about you’‘. He moaned in pain and when you pushed back his hair, you were overcome with the need to kiss him. 

You pulled yourself back, watching from the corner of your eyes about the detectives and in that moment, he collapsed. His weight gave way and with a thud, he hit the floor. You decided not to let him die on this floor. You adamantly shouted into your receiver, ‘’Help me!’’. You heard the footsteps rush behind you, pulling you off the floor and pushing you in the direction of the car. 

As you looked back, you saw them in a co-ordinated manner pick him up. Getting into your cars, you drove away, your colleague looking back at the soldiers who were scrambling to treat Zuho. ‘’This will fuck our plans’’ he muttered, holding back tears at Zuho’s state. You weakly chuckled, eyes dropping but you fought to stay awake saying, ‘’We will see from here on out’’. 

Handling businesses on the ground made you realise that your group had more power than you thought. The workers of the law were corrupt, not all of them though. Some of them fought against these dirty workers and while some slipped into the greediness of money, some held on, even if their hands were burned off. The pain that rotted the city was terrible and you were sure that you had not seen the worst of it.   

You were received by medics of a nearby camp and you woke up, shortly before the completion of two whole days. When you woke up, you reported to your boss first, then searched for Zuho. You walked the place by yourself, not wanting to answer any questions. Although, it was nice to know that people still cared for you even after your undercover disappearance for the last six months. 

You smiled, pausing when you saw Zuho laying on the bed, saline attached to his right hand vein and catheter hanging on the other side. You showed your badge to the cards and the barcode right above your right hand elbow. As soon as they verified both, you almost slowed down, tracing the board that held his information. 

You did your best to hold back your tears, repeatedly blinking, walking and turning around. Clearing your throat, you stood up and shook your shoulders in a motion that was similar to shaking the weight off. You sat back down, leaning on Zuho’s shoulder and grasping his hand, you softly squeezed. The last of your relief washed over you and you desperately wanted the feeling to come back. 

It felt good and after so long, you knew that your battles had only just begun. You had made a mistake by bringing him here. But it was either that or he would have died by the time they had gotten him to a hospital past the civilian areas. Zuho woke up, seeing your form peaceful. He was overwhelmed, mouth dry and a groan escaped his lips causing your head to snap up. 

You handed him a glass of water, his thirst as a result of the injection he had been given. You smiled, reaching over to place a kiss on his cheek. ‘’Should I just stay with you?’’ he groggily asked, gently squeezing your hand when you smiled, placing another gentle kiss to his cheek. ‘’You should stay’’ you commented, having already chosen a plan with your commander. 

It included Zuho and all you needed was his approval on his part. You pressed the button on the control and you kicked your shoes off, joining him. ‘’I was worried about you all the time, you know.’’ you spoke, breaking the peaceful silence. He had been stationed not far from you but you could never see him. Such meetings were prohibited. At the end of every three weeks, you did meet and bask in each other’s warmth in your provided house. 

But once every twenty-one days was not enough. He always wanted to be with you but there was the risk of your jobs clashing and interfering with your work plans. ‘’I was worried about you too. It was hard not to’’ he replied, nudging your cheek with his nose. He wanted to reunite with you right now, squeezing your arm as he slid down to your waist. 

You connected your lips, running through his soft hair, grasping the back of his head and pulling him closer. Your bodies touched, the warmness exchanging in your own space. You put a hand on his chest, smiling as you leaned back, whispering in his ear, ‘’ We can’t, you have a catheter on’’. 

Only for this context was it a moment of finality and his ears almost burned when he groaned, kissing you and leaning back, throwing his head back on the pillow. Your laughs mingled and you patted his better leg, getting off the bed. ‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, eyes curiously wide and hand reaching for your presence. 

You hummed, a bounce in your step as you said, ‘’I’ll go get some food for us’’. He nodded, pausing when you spoke up once again, ‘’I was just thinking of how to pleasure you. Think about it while I’m gone.’’, patting the wall as you left. Upon hearing you, he groaned,  letting out a small cry. The catheter was the least of his problems because it was the wound that would take most time to heal. 

He smiled at your words, looking at the direction in which you left, thinking, what a person. However, he was filled with an even bigger sense of determination. He would live and see this problem to its end. And then he would buy a house with you and have kids. He could see himself eating the food he cooked and watching tv with them all day, smiling into his dream. Your relationship was never founded from this war anyways. 

It was never torn apart because of it and you always stood by each other’s side. He decided that he would fight beside you, taking your guidance and training himself for the final war to come. He imagined a gun in his hand, pulling the trigger over the perpetrators of violence against the civilians he had spent months building trust with. 

Taeyang came home bone-tired. His shoulders ached, joints unnecessarily struggling. There was a familiar tiredness in his body, radiating throughout. It seeped into whole wavelengths and he was sure that you noticed it. And it was hard not to as he mumbled something incoherent, resting his head on your shoulder, sighing as he inhaled the smell of home. 

Secure was the feeling that surrounded him, the one he realised was the most important after being in this industry for so long. So normal were some things that many didn’t even notice how invading it was. He found that it came from his members, his family and you. To get home after a long day and not be all alone in the house. It was the knowing that saved him from rolling his eyes and falling asleep on the floor. 

You awed, snuggling into him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, hearing him whisper, ‘’I’m too tired, we should go to sleep’’. His stomach garbled, empty from hours of burning and burning, tirelessly or passionately, easy to understand that he had some sort of fire raging within him. All that fire was laying low now, needing fuel to rage. You chuckled, grasping his hand as you asked, ‘’How was your day?’’, leading him to the kitchen. 

He nodded, giving you a thumbs up and slumping on the table. You turned around in surprise as he whined a little, telling you belatedly, ‘’There are too many things to do. I have to shower, wash up, eat and then sleep. It’s like there is a never-ending list of things to do.’’. You cracked up at his statement, drawing some chuckles from him too.

‘‘I’m just saying, you know.’‘ he said as you placed noodles in front of him. The smell was enough to wake him up as he perked up, drooping eyes being set aside. ‘’I ate, you go ahead.’’ you said, motioning to his food. 

‘’What time did you get home?’’ he asked in between bites.

‘‘Afternoon’‘

‘‘Was it tiring? How was it?’‘, he questioned, slurping the noodles.

You hummed, nodding, ‘’Tiring and we did the best that we could. Anyways, I don’t have to leave until tomorrow afternoon. So, at the office-’’.

Twirling the noodles around, he listened to your story, commenting, ‘’You did it because you thought it was best. The important thing is that now they know. They don’t have questions and stuff.’’ 

You agreed, ‘’They don’t have questions and they aren’t confused’’, continuing, ‘’The competition is tough, you must be stressed no?’’

‘‘You know what I’m worried about. Although it is the same old, even if we manage to get something out of this, I will be proud’‘.

You wowed, replying, ‘’You should always be proud of your team. It’s not easy wanting something. When your own standards haven’t been met for a long period of time, you don’t realise that you’ve been trying to achieve even the littlest of things.’’

He was silent at your statement, inquisitive to your words, gears turning in his head. ‘’Between the both of us, it will be stronger if it comes from you. Aim higher, this is the real-world so be careful of what you want.’’

‘‘Fair enough, not everyone gets what they want’‘ he hummed, washing his bowl. 

Shifting to the bed, he joined you after his shower, bouncing on the mattress with a sigh of content. Like a child receiving their favourite toy, he smiled upon meeting the comforter, its warmth hugging him. You held him to your chest and he snuggled right in, lulling to the way you carded your fingers through his hair.

The night was pleasant, enough for him to kick the covers off, speaking to you with closed eyes, ‘’This competition will keep me awake forever’’. He chuckled, continuing, ‘’I’m buzzing right now’’. 

You lolled, ‘’Buzzing? You did the most activity around today and you are still awake? That’s remarkable’’. The comment drew Taeyang to open his eyes who gently poked your side, chuckling as he commented himself, ‘’Are you asleep?’’. You hummed, throwing your leg over him and asking, ‘’What do you want?’’. 

He lay awake, pondering over your question and you literally peeled open your eyes to tell him, ‘’Sleep Tae, nothing bad will happen. You’ll feel better after you get some sleep.’’. He turned around at your statement, bringing you closer to him. You were safely tucked away in your fiancé’s arms and the two of you slept until late dawn, only stumbling in the kitchen for some lunch.               

He groaned, over and over again. Ever since he had laid down to sleep, he felt nauseous, its grip vice in his stomach and throat. He tossed back and forth, side to side, changing positions to comfort himself. He was alarmed at the sensitivity of his body, aware that something was wrong, but was unable to discern till the last moment that he would vomit. 

He released the gruesome contents into the bucket he had prepared mid-struggle. He was scared. He did not want to experience the same thing again. The pain in his throat was like stinging, but from the inside. It was like something had clawed through, letting the marks fester. He kept wondering why this was, it had never happened to him before.

He grasped his head, the pain causing him to fall back onto the bed and close his eyes. Till the pain had passed, he did not move an inch, holding still. The pain faded away and after laying down some more, he picked up his heavy bones and made his way to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

He called out to you in the darkness, cautiously entering to find you. For the type of person you were, he knew that you’d take action immediately, questions later but he didn’t think that mattered. It was more about the fact that he loved you and felt comfortable in your arms. 

He knew that it would be a heavy confession for you, if he ever got around to telling you about it. His feelings about you were big and complex, especially when he was unaware of how you felt about him. You were dead asleep, softly snoring but when a specific word like ‘’Noona?’’ floated in your head, your eyebrows furrowed and you wondered if you were really dreaming. 

Waking up with a jolt, you groggily asked him, ‘’Are you okay?’’, reaching out for him in the darkness. He shook his head and you pulled him to sit on the bed, him telling you in reply, ‘’I puked’’.

You awed, pulling him in for a hug. He looked so adorable as he said it, a small pout adorning his face, cheeks probably pink and cutely looking at you. He looked small in this moment and you couldn’t help but bring him into your arms, comfortingly running your hands through his hair while whispering soothing words of praise. 

You also could not help pouting yourself, deep sadness spreading within you as you thought of him in pain, thinking, poor baby. ‘’I should-’’, ‘’Huh?’’ overlapped as he quickly got up, starting to regret his decision to come here. You grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the bed. ‘’You can sleep here’’ you motioned, separating your pillows to give him one.  

You got into the covers, leaving half the bed for him. He opened his mouth in question and you rested on your elbow, telling him, ‘’If you aren’t comfortable enough, you can go back. Trust me, I won’t mind. It’s all the same to me’’. You cleared your throat, laying back down, regretting your last set of words. He got into the bed, thinking at the same time, Alright, it’s all the same. 

After resting for a couple of seconds, you turned around, saying, ‘’I lied, it’s not the same to me’’. He hummed, snapping his head to you, taken aback by your taking back. Exposing his beautiful gummy smile in the near darkness, he replied, ‘’Just to be clear, I feel the same way about you’’. It was shorter than he had anticipated because you had given a response he had not thought would happen.

‘‘What’s on your mind?’‘ you asked and through some small words, it became a better conversation. He elaborated himself and under the softness of the light, you curled up into each other. You snuggled in each other’s warmth, some peacefulness filling this hectic lives of yours. You pressed a kiss to his temple as he slept like a baby, keeping a close eye on his condition throughout the night. 

Chani was asleep, amongst the fluffy covers that enveloped his frame from head to toe. Snuggled with an air of warmth around him, insulating him from the slight cold of the autumn breeze, he softly snored in the midst. The clock of his sleep was ticking for almost ten hours now and so peacefully did he look as he slept that you let him be. 

After running from pillar to post and staying up for filming, he was undeniably exhausted. His eyes would not open, heavy in their mood and feeling almost like tape held them together. Prying them open, he groaned, catching your attention. The refusal of his eyes were utmost and so he shut them and laid back down, comforting himself on the pillows. You moved from your desk to the bed and you laid a hand on his chest, softly calling out, ‘’Baby?’’. 

Hearing no response, you leant over him, giving him a kiss and gently shaking him. You repeatedly whispered your nickname for him, hiding your head in the crook of his neck and snuggling into the warm space. You chuckled as he hazily groaned, words indistinct to your ears, laying a hand on your waist. 

You had just finished completing your report, thinking nonsense vacation dreams to yourself of the things you could do if you had time off for the next few days. ‘‘I’m up’‘ he noted, pulling his eyelids open regardless of how much they hurt. When he found clarity, he switched your positions so that he was facing you. ‘’Go back to sleep but I just wanted to know if you were okay.’’ you stated, placing another soft kiss to his jawline. 

His cheeks were puffed from having just woken up and he looked adorable. If you had told him that he would have asked, ‘’Why?’’ and tossed his head back and forth in playful frustration. Even then you would have found him cute. You tucked a stray hair back into the softness, admiring his sleepy form, eyes barely staying open as he lingered over you. 

‘’I won’t go back to sleep’’ he murmured, making you chuckle, knowing that sooner or later he would lay on his back again and doze into another world. He shook himself awake as you replied, ‘’It looks like you need sleep though’’ causing him to roll his eyes. He hummed, throwing a leg over you and nestling into your neck, probably still in the state where he felt as if he was dreaming. 

You kissed his neck, peppering a trail of light kisses in the same area, combing through his hair. He could feel the touch of your lips leave a trace of warmth on every spot, gently urging him to wake up. After a couple of minutes, Chani inquisitively asked, ‘’How long was I asleep for?’’ startled at the answer you gave him. He poked his head out from the crook of your neck, staring at you with open eyes as he registered the double-digit number.

‘‘I had work to do...’‘ he said, trailing off. After two seconds of debating, he plopped back into your warmth, deciding that he could do it later. Lightly pushing his shoulder emitted a groan from him, one that resembled ache. Plopping on his back, your giggle turned into concern as you asked him, ‘‘Are you feeling okay?’‘. 

‘‘My back hurts, and legs too.’‘ he nodded, playing with strands of your hair. You hummed, asking, ‘‘Do you want me to give me you an oil massage?’’. He perked up at the idea, graciously kissing you and telling you that he would return the favour.

As he sat on the bed, you admired his toned back. Squirting a bit of oil onto your palm, you rubbed your palms together and at the first touch, he relaxed. You brought both your thumbs together, rubbing in circles and squeezing the ache from his muscles. 

He moaned in delight, hands on knees as he lost himself in the pleasure. It was like the pain was evaporating from his overworked muscles. You chuckled at his noises, his soft whines escaping when you touched a particular part in the middle of his back. When you were done, you grasped his face and kissed him passionately. 

His hands wandered around your waist, tugging at the hem of your top. You giggled in delight, breaking away from the kiss, meeting his eyes. He grabbed your legs that had been straddling his waist and leaning back from planting another kiss onto your neck, he asked you, ‘’Should I do you?’’. 

You squealed as he tossed you on the bed, motioning to your top and as you took it off, he began his lustful descent, starting by him dragging the whole thing out, leaving you in beautiful shambles. 

[manonblaqkbeak]

Motel Living

this idea would not leave me alone, despite me having like three other fics barely done. it is very random. i dont even know what to say lol.

2554 words

enjoy!

Today was officially the one month anniversary of Aelin moving into a three-star motel. She did not think she'd be here for long, a couple of weeks at most, but here she was a month later, and on a Friday night no less. She should have been out with her friends, but she opted to stay inside.

She had to tell herself that she shouldn't complain. That there were people that were worse off than her. Living in a motel was fine.

But it still didn't change the fact that Aelin wished she wasn't living in a motel room. Especially one that was popular with long haul truckers whose snores sounded like chain saws and blenders on the highest level. That right now, down in the restaurant/pub that was only six doors down, an important football game was playing and the patrons inside were cheering wildly.

Aelin missed the house that she had been renting the last three years. Last year she had decided to start saving so that she could purchase the house itself, since it was still on the market since the day she moved in. It was hard, but Aelin was a determined woman and she set her sights on purchasing the house—she felt like she practically owned it anyway—up until the day she received a call from the real estate agency telling her that the house had been purchased and she had to move out.

Aelin disliked crying, but the waterworks started the minute she hung up. She really did love that house. Had created a small vegetable and herb garden to make it feel more homely. Made it hers in the three years she had occupied it.

There was a tiny silver-lining, however, since the new owners were coming from the other side of the continent, she had plenty of time to pack and move out.

But that silver-lining quickly disappeared once she started her search for a new home in-between packing and work. Every apartment, every house, every unit she looked out at was taken by the time she handed in her application. Every inspection starting to become fruitless when she knew that she wouldn't be the one to live in it.

Aelin hadn't realised that the market had become so cut-throat. She knew she was the perfect applicant because in all her years renting she never missed a single day, never received a complaint. Even when the landlord dragged his ass to fix something, Aelin kept her temper in its leash and did not throttle him the way she wanted too.

And as her luck ran out and Aelin had started to truly worry about where she was going to live because while she had multiple people in her life, she quickly realised that she couldn't ask any of them if she could move in for multiple reasons:

Aedion and Lysandra were recently married, and Aelin hadn't wanted to burst their newlywed bubble.

Chaol and Yrene were brand new parents, their baby girl born the day Aelin moved out, and she knew the last thing they wanted was someone else in the way.

Nehemia was in the same position as her, but her parents had invited her back home while Nehemia looked for somewhere else. Aelin's parents were dead, and her childhood home had been destroyed in a wildfire a five years ago, and Aelin had used the insurance money to pay off her debts. She cursed herself now for doing that, but Aelin hated being in debt and she did what she had too.

Fenrys lived in a one bedroom unit and had the worlds most uncomfortable couch, so he was out. And while Fenrys was one of her best friends, she didn't really talk with Connall, his twin. Nor did she often talk with Vaughn.

Dorian and Manon were travelling all over Erilea and Dorian's younger brother Hollin was house-sitting. Aelin couldn't stand Hollin for more than a few minutes at a time and she would rather live in the motel for a year than live in with him.

And then there was Rowan. He had been a close friend for years, until five months ago they decided that they had liked each other too much to keep being friends and officially started dating (at Lysandra and Aedion's wedding, of all places). If they had been together for longer, she would have asked him—but she didn't want to rush anything, because Aelin could so clearly see a future with him and she didn't want to hurt that future by moving in far too early in their relationship.

So that left Elide, her lifelong friend that was more like a sister. Elide was purely on the bottom of the list since she knew her friend cherished living alone after living in a shit-hole with her even shittier uncle—but Aelin knew Elide and if Aelin needed a place to stay, then Elide's door would be wide open. The two had gone to lunch and Aelin had been just moments away from telling Elide everything and asking for a world changing favour.

Until Elide had excitedly announced that Lorcan was going to move in.

And Aelin's plan had deflated. Again, Aelin knew that if Elide was aware of how desperate she was, Elide would invite Aelin to stay, but since Lorcan and Aelin didn't particularly get along, Aelin kept her mouth shut and congratulated her friend for the new milestone in their relationship.

So, all her options completely exhausted, Aelin looked for vacant motels, found that this was the best out of all the options and became a long-standing tenant.

Aelin had managed to keep everyone away from her new apartment by claiming that it wasn't ready for visitors. Most knew that Aelin was house-proud, a trait that she had inherited from her late mother, so they knew that when Aelin was ready, she would invite them.

It was getting hard, however, to keep Rowan away. Each date night and hang out ended up at his apartment and Rowan was becoming curious as to how her new place was looking.

Rowan wasn't judgemental, and he wouldn't look down at her for living in a motel room, but Aelin was the problem; she was too proud to show him her new place. Even when she was at her lunch with Elide, she had to beat down her pride at just the mere thought of asking Elide if she could move in.

Tonight, however, Aelin knew in her bones that Rowan would ask to come over. He had a completely shitty day at work—one that ended up in the hospital because for the first time in his career as a carpenter, Rowan had somehow gotten his hand in the way of his nail gun and shot right through the middle of his palm and was off work until it healed, which Rowan hated the most out of the whole ordeal, since Rowan was the type of person that always had to be doing something.

So when his face finally popped up on her phone screen, Aelin muffled a groan into her pillow (because there was no way in hell she was using the standard sheets the motel provided, she needed her bedding or she wouldn't get any sleep), took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face.

“How's the hand?” she asked by way of greeting.

“It'd be a lot better if there wasn't a hole in it,” was his groggy reply. “I just woke up from the longest nap and thought of you.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Aelin said, “do you want me to come over? I could cook you my world famous grilled cheese.” Please say yes, she thought, please.

“As much as I love the sound of that, I just need to get out of my house,” Rowan said, “I know that you're house-proud and if you don't want me to see it, I understand, I'll even wear a blind fold if that'll make you happy, but I just...” he trailed off and Aelin could see his pained expression even though they were miles apart.

“Seeing all your work tools is making you miserable,” she supplied. Rowan grunted in confirmation. Taking a deep breath, Aelin said, “You can come over, I don't mind. I'd be happy to see you.” And she would be. She'd just have to kick her pride in the corner. “There's a pub right around the corner from mine and the cheeseburgers they have are really fucking good, and I mean that sincerely. Do you want me to get you one? Because I only have snacks and canned food at the moment.”

“A burger sounds good, with extra tomato, please.”

Aelin smiled. “Of course, I'll text you the address, and I'll see you soon.”

After ordering their dinner, Aelin tidied up (even though the space was immaculate) and waited, and waited. When a gentle knock sounded at her door, Aelin took the food from the restaurant worker and was just about to go back in when Rowan's truck pulled up.

Even ten car spots away, Aelin could see his puzzled expression from where she stood. Placing the food on the small, round dining table, Aelin waited by the door and gave Rowan her best smile when he stood in front of her.

His puzzled expression melted away momentarily when she kissed him hello, but it was back in full force when they pulled away.

“Fireheart,” was all he said, and it said everything that he didn't say.

“I know.”

“You're living in a motel room.” There was no judgement in his voice, like she knew there wouldn't be, but it was clear that he was confused about the whole thing. She should have just told him. She loved her late mother, but really hated the fact that she had passed her pride to Aelin. She hated the fact that, deep down, she was embarrassed, even if Aelin told herself that she had no reason to. The housing market was insane, there was no where else for her to go, and that she hated herself for not saving more money to buy her home of three years.

“I am,” Aelin said, “but it's not so bad. It's affordable and clean.” Aelin invited him inside and sat him down the small dining table.

From his spot, he took in the space. Saw the bar fridge that could barely hold a bags worth of cold food, her toaster oven and the dual butane stove she had to purchase because she didn't want to have to use the toaster oven all the time. The tiny closet that held a decent amount of clothes, but didn't make a dent in her considerable mountain of clothes that she had put away in the storage unit she was renting.

None of her candles were in sight and no books either. Aelin was taking full advantage of her library apps, but it wasn't the same. Aelin loved the feeling of a book in her hands, but there was no space and it would have been silly to bring in her bookcases.

“Where's all your stuff?”

“In a storage unit. I considered living in there, but it doesn't have an air-conditioner and this place does.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin turned on the TV, put on whatever movie sounded dumb enough and ate her dinner.

Aelin could see the question burning in his eyes as she stuffed her mouth to avoid answering that very question.

Why didn't Aelin ask if she could stay with him?

Aelin wanted to tell him, she really did, but was afraid that if she showed how serious she was, Rowan might admit that he wasn't as serious as her.

But Aelin knew herself, knew that she was going to tell him at one point or another. She could tell Rowan anything and he wouldn't flinch. It was her own doubt stopping her.

“That really is the best burger I've ever had,” Rowan said when he was finished.

“It really is,” was all Aelin could think of to say. Gods, she felt so damned awkward. The question was still in Rowan's eyes, even as he laughed at the movie and its stupidity. So to avoid it for a bit longer, Aelin took the take-away boxes into the dumpster outback and immediately went for a shower afterwards.

When she came out, Rowan was lounging on her bed, his injured hand laying across his chest, the other arm fiddling with her comforter. Aelin dressed in a shirt that she may have borrowed without asking from Rowan and a pair of sleep shorts.

Borrowing underneath her comforter, Aelin rested her head on Rowan's chest and the awkwardness she felt deflated a bit as he pressed a kiss on her head.

Aelin told him how she ended up here. Including her embarrassment and annoyance at herself. Rowan listened attentively, as he always did. That was one of the biggest things she loved about him, that he listened. And Aelin was in love with him, she knew without a doubt. She was certain she fell in love with him when he danced with her at Aedion and Lysandra's wedding.

When the credits started to roll, Aelin took a deep breath and decided to plunge into uncharted territories. She kept her eyes glued onto the screen.

Aelin decided to bite the bullet. If it all went to hell, she would beat herself up later.

“I don't want to fuck things up with you.” Well, that wasn't how she wanted to start this conversation, but she supposed it was the best way to start off. “I wanted to ask you if I could move in, but our relationship is just so new, and I didn't want to ruin our future, because I can see a future with you, Rowan.” Moving so that she could look Rowan in the eye, Aelin took the deepest plunge imaginable and told him, “I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.”

The smile he gave her was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. “I love you, too, Aelin.” Reaching down to kiss her, all of Aelin's doubts melted away. When he pulled back, Rowan said softly, “If you wish to ask, I'll say yes. Because I see a future with you too. You're the one for me.”

“Rowan, can I move in with you?”

He kissed her again. “Yes, you can.”

Aelin's cheeks were started to become sore from all her smiling. Maybe it was a good thing after all that she ended up living here.

Hours later, after another bad movie and celebrating the new milestone in their relationship (which was mainly Aelin laughing as she rode Rowan because he kept forgetting about his injured hand), Aelin and Rowan got ready for bed, and as Aelin rested her head on his chest again, she said, “Just to let you know, I'm going to replace your mattress for mine, because yours is hard as stone.”

“That's exactly why I'm letting you move in, I'm in the market for a new mattress.”

Aelin playfully whacked his chest and muttered what a buzzard he was, but soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for her future with Rowan.

[bananaink]

For your imprint au is Izuku’s eye affected. It seems like he would be blind or at least visually impaired in the eye where the handprint scar is.

Oh yeah, he totally is. He might not be blind in that eye, but he would not be allowed to drive without glasses and shouldn’t sit in the last row of the classroom. But just like with his taste-buds, he never really thought about it.

The scar-side-eye is definitely short-sighted and he can get headaches from the difference to his good eye (which he started complaining more about as he attended classes like a regular student). With his high pain tolerance and frequent injuries that heal faster than the norm, he just never thought it important to mention. He instinctively “shields” that side of his face anyway and tends to turn his body accordingly.

And it’s not Aizawa who finds out about it, but Tenya! When he was assigned to watch over and keep Izuku in check, he dragged him to classes and made him take notes, learn, study, that sort of stuff. That obviously gave Izuku more headaches as he tried focusing on the board on a regular basis (which also fueled his hate for classes in general).

It’s only when they already moved into the dorms and Izuku participates in the room-king-thingy that his eye-sight gets more attention. Obviously, Iida has like a truck load of glasses and everyone asks if they could try them on. Mina is asking if they suit her, Kirishima almost breaks one and Yuga puts some sparkles on the one he wears, voguing through the room. It takes a while but Iida gets his glasses back – all unharmed - and as they leave, he notices Izuku squinting hard at him:

Iida clicks the door shut behind him, maybe a bit too relieved to move on - and comes face to face with a thoughtfully squinting Midoriya. Right into his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know if I should ask or not.”

Midoriya tilts his head and squints some more. His way of asking for permission, as Tenya recognizes after months of catching him up on schoolwork and wrestling him into classes. Tenya takes a breath and walks after the others who have already stumbled into Kaminaris room with fanfare. Midoriya wasn’t actively trying to ask unnerving questions or say inappropriate things as Tenya has to remind himself every time he is faced with the “squint-of-questioning” - as Uraraka had dubbed it.

But he still feels himself mentally brace for what could be an unpleasant question as he says:

“Then I encourage you to ask and I will do my best to answer.”

Midoriya, trotting beside him, loosens up his squint and nods as Mina shoves everyone back outside, urging Koda one room over. Tenya just gets a quick glimpse of Kaminaris room as he closes the door properly since everybody is stumbling over each other to be the first.

“Why do your glasses have one blurry side?”, Midoriya pipes up and fidgets in place. “Seems impractical.”

Tenya looks up - or rather down - at Midoriya and frowns.

“Indeed, that would be impractical but I'm not sure what you mean?”

“Well, when I put your glasses on, one side was very blurry and one was clear. Aren’t glasses supposed to help you see better?”

They stop following the others, as Tenya watches Midoriyas confused frown and expectant stare. Suddenly, he can’t stop himself from glancing at his scar, remembering the times he has watched the other boy squinting at things or rubbing his eyes after a long school day and frowns right back.

“Which side was blurry?”, he asks and Midoriya points to his right eye. The eye without a scar.

“Super-duper blurry. I can ask Powerloader to fix the one that's broken for you if you want.”

Baffled, Tenya just nods as a thought or rather a suspicion dawns on him. Tenya quickly decides to take his glasses off and holds them out.

“Uhm, Midoriya, would you mind trying these on for me?”

Midoriya hesitates like he always does when someone offers him something to take, double checks with a quick nod that Tenya had really asked that of him and then puts the glasses on. He blinks and lets out a huff.

“Uh... what’s wrong with your eyesight?”

Tenya squints at Midoriyas blurred form, trying to sharpen his features.

“Could you close your right eye for me?”, he asks instead of answering the question and Midoriya – used to Tenyas teaching-voice – just huffs again and moves his head as if he was looking around, hopefully doing hat Tenya asked of him.

“Can you see better now?”

“Oh, sure, yeah, I mean still a tiny bit blurry but so much better than on my right- Oh... huh... well, okay.”

Midoriya, sounding a bit confused, abruptly offers Tenya his glasses back. He quickly puts them back on and the sharp visual of Midoriya closing one eye and glaring down the hall meets him. Then he alternates between his eyes, blinking hard and even putting one finger up to blink at, while Tenya studies the scar on Midoriyas face, feeling a bit... unbalanced. Of course, such a large scar, crossing over the eye would affect someone's vision. He fiddles with his glasses.

“I’m not a doctor but I think that you might have some impaired vision in your left eye, Midoriya. I am very nearsighted myself and my glasses are prescribed so of course they wouldn’t suit your needs but that might explain why one side feels blurrier or sharper than the other.”

Midoriya – after just a couple of seconds blinking an alternating between his eyes - shrugs and wanders after the rest of the class.

“Yeah, probably. At least your glasses aren't broken so that’s good. Sorry, I just kinda forgot. ”

“You... forgot?”

Tenya quickly follows his classmate and frowns at his casual tone and easy-going attitude. It could be a put-up front for something more serious, but Midoriya just grins up at him. Before pointing to his scar and poking his eyelid closed so the scar tissue almost looks connected.

“Yeah, I mean, the big-ass scar? I just- I don’t know, I forgot that it messed up more than just my face, I guess. Don’t really notice the difference anymore, you know?”

Tenya doesn’t know. Every picture of him under six years old looked like he was angry at the world until his mother had taken him to the doctor. Then he remembers that Midoriyas family-situation is much more complicated than his own. And that Midoriya tended to ignore his own health because it seemed ‘not important’ or would ‘heal in a minute anyway’.

“Have you told Aizawa Sensei?”

“Why? It’s not like he can change anything about it.”

He most certainly could. But before Tenya can tell him that, Midoriya skips ahead and peers into Kirishimas room, where they can hear his classmates chattering excitedly. Then  Midoriyas big eyes grow even bigger and Tenya feels his Midoriya-Instinct kick in. Just a second too late as the green-haired menace dashes into the room and Kirishima shouts in surprise. Then a heavy thud and laughter.

Tenya just sighs and fiddles with his glasses. Maybe this isn’t a big problem. But a problem nonetheless. He can already feel Aizawa-Senseis tired sigh rolling down his back and despite his reputation as the stickler for rules, he is also quite tired of only having bad news for his teacher. So he lets out a tired sigh and decides to put his new discovery of Midoriya Related Incidents on his long list. Just as Mina staggers out of Kirishimas room, carrying Hagakure on her back.

“To the next one!”

“Guys, my room is really not-”, Shoji starts but then Midoriya pops up under his left arm, staring up at him with the biggest eyes full of a mixture of mirth and glee. And their giant classmates protest deflates like a soufflé. Tenya follows the cheering and watches as they stumble into the next room.

Midoriya had lived with his eyes like this for years, what was one more evening in the grand sheme of things. Aizawa Senseis sigh can wait one more night for the news.

[kikilefangirl]

Old Ties

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader

(Word Count: 1629)

This was your first time back from school since Christmas, and you missed home. You had elected to stay in an apartment near campus for the summer and rarely went back.

This was your birthday weekend, and you had to see your family and old friends after going so long without. Sometimes your mom joked you were too slippery to answer the phone, let alone stay on for long. It was true, with one notable exception: your baby brother Jamal.

“Y/N!” He hollered excitedly. You laughed when you pulled up because he had a fake neck brace on as his injury of the month. And his friends were there, all grown up.

“‘Mal! It’s so good to see you.”

“What about me?” Ruby asked incredulously.

“You too, Ruby. Monsé, look at you!” You praised. Then you were one off your count.

“Where’s Cesar?”

He was the only one missing from the group. Each kid had different emotions flash across their faces. Oh. You knew the feeling.

“Well get in, we’re going to get him.” You declared. They let out a chorus of protests and excuses, but you had already started the car.

“A seat has some of my bags in it, so one of y’all sitting in the middle.” You added.

You hadn’t been home five minutes and were already on your way to him. Indirectly, of course. All three kids piled in, and you drove off after a moan from Ruby about sitting in the middle seat.

“How do you know the way there?” Jamal asked skeptically. You gave him some throwaway response and put on some lip gloss.

You knew damn well why you expertly made the short drive to Spooky’s house, but they didn’t need to know that. Sooner that you were prepared to, you pulled up and hopped out.

You never once broke your stride past Santos and hynas. You heard your car doors slam, so the others were behind you, but you pressed on without soaring them a glance.

The music blasted along with the roar of engines and laughs from partygoers and clinking bottles. Your breath caught in your throat as you headed farther back in the driveway.

There he was, sitting down smoking a blunt next to him was Cesar. Damn, the kids had gotten older.

“Never thought I’d see you here.” Oscar said, finally.

He exhaled, and stood up not two feet away from you. Plump lips, intense brown eyes, no. You were never able to turn away from him.

Oscar was still fine as hell and you were losing focus.

“I came here to get Cesar.”

Not you.

The unsaid words were heavy between the two of you. Everyone who wasn’t drunk or oblivious could see the battle of wills going on. Even Cesar looked confused, and it was technically about him.

“He goes.” Oscar started, bringing a hand to your cheek, “You stay.”

Closure, you decided, was some bullshit because after two years of heartbreak and your determination to stay away...You accepted his trade.

Jamal, of course had heart palpitations the second a yes flew out your mouth. Ruby paled at the idea, and Monsé was staring at Cesar.

As soon as they left, it gave you some peace watching the four of them go off like they used to. Oscar struggled with the worst hand he could’ve been dealt, but his brother didn’t have to go through the same. Cesar was a different kid; Cesar was still somewhat allowed to be a kid.

Oscar put out his blunt and brought you inside.

You filled your eyes at the hoots and whistles from outside as you shut the screen door and then the real one.

You and Oscar were truly alone, now.

“How long before you’re gone, again.” He lamented, pulling out two beers from the fridge.

You winced at his words.

“The weekend.” You admitted. Spooky scoffed at you as he popped the top off of either bottle. He slid one over to you as you tapped your nails on the counter.

“Got over your little cholo phase and dipped, huh.” He spat out. You slammed your hand on the counter. Your palm stung from the impact, but your anger was more pressing.

“You know good and goddamn well that wasn’t it. Do I look like some white girl who took the wrong bus and got lost!” You roared at him.

He made it seem like an easy choice for you. That it was easy leaving everyone and everything for a whole new world you’d never even really seen before.

You flared your nostrils at Oscar, mostly to keep the tears at bay.

“I told myself I wasn’t gonna do this shit, Osc. You gonna keep doing your Santo shit, and I’m supposed to what? Sit here popping out your babies so twenty years from now they supposed to do the same shit? You go down, and I don’t got nothing to stand on? No.”

You shook your head violently. No. No, no, no. You spied where he kept his good liquor and grabbed it. You guzzled as much as you could in one pass.

Oscar stood there watching you with a look you couldn’t care to decipher.

Modesty wasn’t exactly a priority between you two. You and Oscar dealt in the raw, honest truth. It was what cooled the two of you, and it was doing so now. You knew it and he knew it.

“You messing with anyone up there?” He asked. Oscar was steady in his slow, rolling voice. Never tentative, always patient.

“Nothing serious.” You admitted. There was a fling that lasted a couple weeks in May, a failed date or two, and a car hookup once. In short, no one was ever him.

“You?” You stared intently at him, searching his eyes for any hint he was holding back.

Oscar’s list of names was shorter than yours. And to your surprise, you let out a sigh of relief.

He smirked and put his hand over yours, squeezing it for reassurance.

“We’re okay.” He said and against all reason you believed him.

He leaned in closer, and pulled you into a hug.

But like the ass he was, Oscar chose a less romantic course. His breath fanned your neck, and you short circuited. You always went blank when Oscar was so close to you and he took full advantage.

You had the willpower of a goldfish.

You hopped up on the counter, the two of you exchanging hungry, passionate kisses, desperate to make up for lost time and old grievances.

...

You stayed at the house well into the night.

You sweated out your edges, smudged your makeup, and damn near limped back to your car. By the time you left, the party had gone somewhere else and the lot was quiet. Not even Cesar had returned.

You sat in your car and Oscar leaned into the window.

“Happy Birthday.” He said. You smiled and gave him a long kiss, savoring the memory of him. When you pulled away, you deflated.

“I’m going back to school on Monday.” You said softly. You drummed on the steering wheel.

“Then come back tomorrow.” He suggested. It wasn’t the same anymore. You two weren’t teenagers sneaking away during football games. His life was as real as yours, if not more. You held in the tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m sorry, Osc. That doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

The silence that came next was deafening. You stared straight ahead and let the tears stream down your face with no abandon. A gentle hand wiped them away.

“No crying. You gotta go see the world for the both of us, ‘kay.” He told you. There was no bitterness or sadness in his eyes. Just love. Love for you, for him, and for everything the two of you went through together.

You let your forehead rest on his.

“I promise.” You whispered to him. At that, Oscar stepped back and you saw him in full view.

He nodded one last time, and you pulled off into the night.

...

“Oh. My. God. Is that a hickey? That’s a hickey. You let Spooky give you that! You could be infected with all kinds of diseases that will haunt you for the rest of your life!”

Jamal’s freakout made you crack a smile. He had only seen Oscar as the Santo Spooky, Cesar’s scary ass older brother. But you had known him since you were twelve and had been with him since you were fifteen.

“We had history, it’s over now. Chill out.” You replied.

“Damn it, Y/N you know I can’t fight, why would you put me in this position!” He barked out. You smiled.

“Oh I know you can’t fight, you know being a D1 athlete and all.” You teased. You knew he’d eventually work up the nerve to tell your parents the truth, but it was fun messing with him in the meantime.

“Okay seriously, are you and Spooky gonna keep--ew, I can’t say it.” He rambled. You put your hands on his shoulders.

“Jamal, listen. I love Oscar and I always will. But we’ve outgrown each other. We grew up here, this our home, but you and I have stability and a way out that Oscar never had. Neighborhood will drag you back in and I can’t afford to do that. Grown decisions, ‘Mal.”

You plopped down on your bed, and stared at nothing. It really was over.

Jamal hugged you tightly, and you hugged him back. You hoped Cesar wouldn’t share his brother’s path. You had given up hope a long time ago that Oscar would. He couldn’t.

And it was cruel of you to hold onto him any longer, so you didn’t.

[winsmoke]

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤

You and Yuta have both hit a wall in your respective lives. Loneliness seeks comfort.

⊹ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.3k ⊹ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 english student female y/n x Yuta ⊹ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 college au, idol au, strangers to lovers au, angst, smut ⊹ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 drinking, kissing, swearing, unprotected doggy position, unprotected reverse cowgirl position, unprotected missionary position ⊹ 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 disclaimer | masterlist

   “Another unfamiliar place with more unfamiliar people,” Yuta murmured to himself while stuffing his slender fingers into the pockets of his straight jacket.

　He had an inexplicable urge to leave his hotel room to wander around the city. Even though he risked a lot of trouble with his managers for a simple stroll, the walk still wasn’t making him feel any better. He had been to New York City several times but it still felt...empty. 

   The more he traveled around the world with NCT 127, the more he realized how small and insignificant he was - an incredibly stupid mentality to have as an idol. Yuta felt like he was always chasing his next high and lately not much was making the cut.

　Performing, practicing, and simple downtime with his members had initially been so fulfilling. That was when he felt like he had something to work towards. It didn’t feel like he was working at all anymore. He didn’t know if he should be more concerned that it was easy faking stability or that none of his friends could recognize his unease. 

   Perhaps that’s why you caught his eye so easily.

　While Yuta restricted his insecurities within his body, your vulnerability stretched across your trembling figure. You were speed-walking to Barnes & Noble, desperate for a gentle relief to get you through the night.

　It was your last year at New York University’s aggressively cutthroat creative writing program. The thrilling environment of competitive writing had engaged you for three years but now you just felt burnt out. You did it all… gotten published, received distinguished awards, and had met your favorite authors but now you’re not so sure of yourself. And with your confidence went your writing stamina. So you decided, after re-writing the ending of your final non-fiction story three times, to run away to the bookstore and read stories from your childhood.

   It wasn’t in Yuta’s nature to talk to strangers so he curiously traced your steps. He was pleasantly surprised when you led him to a bookstore and even more surprised when you eagerly reached for children’s books. After flipping to the first page of The Rainbow Fish, you looked up at the first person you saw, pointed at the paper, and exclaimed excitedly: “Pictures!”

   Having read countless academic papers and various literature throughout the semester without a single picture, seeing such colorful and nostalgic images were putting you in a child-like frenzy.

　Yuta felt his lips twitch uncontrollably. You wore your emotions so shamelessly and he found it to be both terrifying yet charming. You started laughing at yourself, realizing how ridiculous you must look.

   “Sorry, I must seem like I’m on acid or shrooms… I swear I’m intelligent,” you mumbled while hungrily paging through the children’s book. Yuta blinked in confusion. He was good at English but he wasn’t sure what “acid” or “shrooms” was. 

   “I read that when I was a boy,” Yuta said awkwardly, nodding to the book you held. Your ears perked up at his articulation and you looked more closely at the guy standing next to you. 

   “In what language?” you asked, trying to place his accent. 

   “Japanese.” 

   You sat down on the carpeted floor and patted the space next to you. 

   “Issho ni yomimashou.” Let’s read together.

   “Nihongo o shitte imasu ka?” You know Japanese?

   “Just basic stuff,” you said shrugging. “Can I practice with you? Like I’ll try to translate the sentences from this story and you’ll tell what I said wrong?” 

   “Ano… okay?” Umm... 

   Over the next thirty minutes, Yuta was amazed by how comfortable he had become with you. He hadn’t heard Japanese in months; a strange ache lodged itself in his chest when you spoke it so smoothly. He remembered how anxious he had been when he was learning Korean, but whenever you made a mistake your bit your lip not from embarrassment but frustration. You were so foreign yet familiar. 

   “Wanna come over to my dorm? The store is gonna close soon and I want to keep practicing with you,” you asked with your most captivating smile. You were always forward with people, especially those you like and he had certainly caught your eye.

   “I don’t know your name yet and you’re already inviting me home?” Yuta hid the bubbling feeling in his chest with a satisfied smirk.

   “I’m y/n.” 

   “Yuta.”

   “Okay now that we’re no longer strangers, Yuta, would you like to come over?”

   “Yeah,” Yuta breathed. He didn’t care about the repercussions, it had been so long since he actually wanted to do something. And right now he wanted more time with you. 

   While the two of you walked to your dorm, you pointed out your favorite spots and places when you had done some fuck-shit, slipping in and out of English and Japanese. Yuta watched you in amusement, slightly amazed by your brazen tongue and reckless past. He couldn’t quite understand you… you had acted so carelessly before and yet, you always ended your stories by explaining what you had learned. He wasn’t sure if he would call you balanced or chaotic.

   Upon unlocking the door to your dorm, your eyes shot to your opened laptop and you remembered the paper you needed to complete. This was your last story before the semester ended, and it had to be spectacular. But the ending was kicking your ass. Your shoulders immediately sagged and you staggered over to your fridge.  

   “What’s up?” Yuta asked, noticing your deflating figure.

　You grabbed the giant vodka bottle and some cherry soda, your usual liquor and chaser combo. Collapsing onto your bed, you gulped down several mouthfuls of both substances and offered some to Yuta. He mimicked your actions without hesitation.

   “I just…am tired of my life,” you said softly.

　Yuta watched as your face crumbled into distress. He set the bottles carefully on the floor and approached your bed steadily.

　You couldn’t read his expression. No one really could.

   “I’m sorry,” he confessed in a low tone, “I’m not good at consoling people. Or talking in general.” 

   You searched his face. Quite possibly the most handsome and emotionless being you had ever laid your eyes on. You noticed before that his face only portrayed happiness or nothing. If he wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t anything. You, on the other hand, oozed an array of emotions.

   You crawled to the edge of the bed where Yuta stood. You sat directly in front him with him looking down at you, your noses almost brushing.

   “You don’t need to speak,” you whispered. 

   Yuta’s hands glided to the curve of your hip and held you firmly in place. As soon as you spread your legs to bring his body closer, Yuta’s lips found yours. He tasted like the cherry soda, the smell enveloping your senses.

   Yuta pushed your hips back further onto the bed so he could position himself properly in between your thighs. While you continued to explore his mouth, his hands began to roughly grope your thighs through your tights. The thin material felt unusual but alluring against his hands and eventually his nails started to fray the nylon. 

   “Just take them off already,” you snapped, breaking away from the kiss when you realized what Yuta was doing and that this was your last pair of black tights. 

   “You look good in them,” Yuta hummed against your neck, licking and kissing below your ear until you were twitching with need. 

   As soon as he began lifting the edge of his sweater, you slithered out of your clothes while Yuta did the same. You positioned your legs for missionary position but Yuta nudged your hip to indicate his desire for you to flip over. 

   “Fine,” you grumbled.

　You already knew your thighs would give out in a few minutes but you let your body be maneuvered to his liking. He pulled your hips up so you were on your hands and knees and pushed his cock in your pussy.

   “Ummph,” you moaned in satisfaction.

　Yuta pushed your wobbling knees further apart to compensate for his girth, causing you to fall onto your forearms. 

   You pushed your hips back in time with Yuta’s swift thrusts. Yuta closed his eyes and tensed his muscles, completely surrendering himself to pleasure. The syrupy sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you echoed in your small room. 

   Although your stamina was quickly depleting, Yuta’s unyielding grip on your hips forced you to continue your movements. Impatient with your decelerating speed, he eventually just held your ass in place to maximize his pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every stroke.

   “You gonna make me do all the work?” Yuta breathed in your ear, pulling your torso up so he could grip your boobs properly. You shivered slightly, impossibly more aroused by the feeling of Yuta’s hardened chest against your back.

   “If you don’t plan on cumming while I’m in control don’t ask for me to take over,” you warned, getting your shit together to not stutter. 

   “Can you make me come?” Yuta challenged, purposefully fingering your clit while continuing to hit you from the back. You rolled your eyes.

   “Please. I could make you cum in three minutes tops. You won’t be getting any pretty little moans out of me.” 

   Yuta groaned and shoved you away. Propping himself on your pillows, he gestured towards his erect dick, still moist from your juices. 

   “Sit. Impress me,” Yuta instructed. 

   Eye contact was not the move for tonight. His look infiltrated you further than his dick could, you felt psychologically naked under it. 

   So you sat facing away from him, with your legs folded on either side of his legs. You nimbly gyrated down on his cock, clapping your cheeks together whenever your thighs needed respite. Yuta reached out to grope your quivering ass but you would stop completely to slap his hands away. 

   “Fuck,” Yuta moaned, unconsciously rolling his hips up to try to cram himself impossibly deeper. You were not gonna lie, this boy’s dick was stretching you and you had been aching from the beginning but that didn’t matter. You both needed a release and sore thighs weren’t going to stop you.

   “Let me be on top,” Yuta growled after you slapped his hands away again.

   “Dignity dented? It’s only been a minute,” you huffed out, just barely closing your mouth in time before a moan could escape.

   “Kinda hard to pull out if you’re on top of me,” Yuta said in a pleading tone. You could tell he was close. 

   “I’m on birth control,” you panted.

　Your abdomen was completely tightened, the coil in your stomach beginning to unravel. You blinked rapidly to bat the sweat from your eyes, you were starting to get dizzy from the intense fucking.

   “I want to look at you when I come,” Yuta begged.

　He surprised himself with his honesty. This whole time, you two had been avoiding each other’s eyes but now that the climax was drawing near, and your encounter was coming to a close, he wanted to see your face. You slowed down your hips, contemplating whether you should just let him cum down your throat or turn around. 

   Screw it. You thought and maneuvered your body so you were straddling him properly. You looked down at him, slightly transfixed by his impressive body. It was the first time you two looked at each other naked. 

   Your hair had fallen out of the ponytail long ago, it circled your flushed face in a way that made you look more captivating to Yuta. He held back the urge to cup your cheeks. 

   You lowered your body onto his and moved your hips sensuously around Yuta’s dick. You didn’t feel like fucking anymore, you just wanted tender sex to try to elongate this as much as possible. You didn’t want to admit this was a one-night stand and soon he would be gone. 

   Yuta seemed to understand your thoughts and caressed your body as if you were worth something to him. Even though you both had slowed dramatically, your bodies were ready for relief.

   “What if I want to hear your pretty moans,” Yuta whispered, effortlessly flipping you below him. His brown eyes were a pool you were drowning in. You weakly smiled and gave in to his request, allowing your low moans to spill from your lips, but not before you closed your eyes. In return, he whined into your collarbone, licking everything he touched. 

   His simple grinding had been enough for you both to reach your limits. Before coming, Yuta couldn’t resist one last kiss, this one much rawer than the first. But instead of relief he just felt lonely all over again. Now that it was over, now what? 

   “I guess you have to go now,” you said, heartache written all over your face. How was it possible that you got so attached to this guy you had just met an hour ago? 

   Yuta fished his phone out of his jeans pocket and groaned looking at all the missed calls and texts. They were flying out early in the morning for their next tour stop and the managers and members were flipping their shit trying to contact him. But when he looked back at you with an expression that mirrored his feelings, he knew he couldn’t leave without being honest for once.

   “I haven’t been this happy in a long time,” Yuta revealed hesitantly. “I-I want – no – need to see you again.” 

    You licked your lips, deliberating his words. He seemed genuine. You traced his flushed lips with your pointer finger, trying to memorize the sensation. 

   “I’m an open book,” you smiled widely. “Read me whenever you want.”

[redex-writes]

If you are still doing fic request, AWO , Vincent/Leo Adopting a rescue dog( can be any breed)

Me, sobbing: please just let me write some short fluff This prompt, holding a gun to my head: plot or perish.

I’m sorry for making this so long ^^’ Anyways, this prompt killed me in every conceivable way, so thank you! It was genuinely fun to write, and I hope you like it!!

CW: (Very brief) description of animal neglect

“Leo, what the hell is this?”

Leo blinked at him, for all the world looking like an innocent man—despite the sopping wet, blanket-wrapped retriever he had just returned home with.

“I know it’s been like eighty years since you were in school,” he said, “but this, Vincent, is what they call a dog.”

“Funny,” Vincent deadpanned. He closed the door behind Leo to keep out the nearly torrential rain, grimacing when Leo knelt to place the shivering dog on the ground.

“May I ask why you thought it would be a good idea to bring a stranger’s dog into our house in the middle of a record-breaking rainstorm?”

Leo was already discarding the filthy blue blanket, tossing it to the side; it landed with a wet plop by Vincent’s feet, and he cringed.

“I don’t think she belongs to anyone,” he said, carefully running his fingers through the matted fur around the dog’s neck. “No collar. Besides, just look at her.”

Vincent had to admit that the dog did look rather worse for wear; its fur was tangled and muddy, and it was definitely quite thin. It looked up at him with big brown eyes, as if it were agreeing with Leo.

“Still,” he said, eyeing it warily, “you don’t know where it’s been. It could have fleas, or rabies, or god knows what else.”

Leo looked up at him, and Vincent was caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“So what, you wanna just kick her back out on the street into the rain?”

“Christ--no, Leo.” Vincent frowned, feeling a bit like he was being scolded. “But you need to think about stuff like this before you do it. We should take it to the shelter.”

Leo gave him an incredulous look.

“Are you kidding? Vince, half the city’s shut down from this rain; even if the shelter was open, there’s no way we’d be able to get there in this weather.”

“Well, we can’t just keep it here!”

“Why not?”

Vincent grit his teeth, resisting the urge to snap at him.

“Well, number one, we’re renting this house. Do you even know what the policy is on pets?”

“Do you?” Leo countered. Vincent took a deep breath.

“Number two: if it was a stray, there’s no telling what it could’ve picked up out there.”

“I’m not asking you to stick your head in her mouth,” Leo snapped. “We wash our hands regularly and make sure she doesn’t get into any of the food.”

Vincent pointed at him.

“Three: what will we feed it? It’s not like we keep dog food laying around.”

Leo huffed.

“Dogs can eat other stuff too, you know. And as soon as the rain dies down, I can run to the store and pick something up.”

“As soon as the rain dies down, we’re taking it to a shelter,” Vincent said firmly.

They stood in tense silence for a few moments, glaring. Finally, Leo sighed.

“Fine. But until then, she stays here.”

Vincent pursed his lips. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t like there was much of a choice.

“Fine.”

-

Leo insisted on giving the dog a bath that night, which Vincent didn’t protest--if they were going to be keeping it in the house, it might as well not be dripping mud everywhere.

Deciding to make himself useful, he opened the linen closet and started rifling through it to find some old towels or sheets they could use for a makeshift bed. Once he’d gathered a suitable pile, he made his way back down the hall. Passing the partly-open bathroom door, the sound of laughter caught his attention, and he peeked inside.

The bathroom was positively soaked--the floor, the towels, and Leo himself. He was kneeling next to the bathtub, holding a bottle of dish soap in one hand and trying to keep the dog at bay with the other. It had obviously perked up since coming into the warm house, trying to lick at Leo’s face while he scrubbed it down.

“C’mon, cut it out,” Vincent heard him chuckle. “Gotta get you all nice and clean, then you can have a little something to eat. That sound good to you?”

As if it could understand him, the dog’s tail gave a happy little wag. Leo grinned.

“Thought so.”

Vincent eased the door shut, a strange warmth in his chest.

-

To Vincent’s dismay, the rain hadn’t let up by the next morning. If anything it had gotten worse, dark clouds hanging low in the sky and the almost constant sound of rain against the windows echoing through the house.

“Said on the news that lots of roads are flooded,” Leo told him as he sat down with his toast and coffee. Vincent grimaced.

“No doubt. At this rate, even when it clears up it’s going to be a few days before everything’s dry again; not to mention how many basements have flooded, too.”

“At least we don’t have a basement to flood,” Leo joked. Vincent rolled his eyes, hiding his fond smile behind his cup of coffee.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he felt something furry brush against his bare foot. He looked under the table to see the dog laying curled against Leo’s feet, sleeping quietly.

“Leo, why is it under the table?”

Leo shrugged.

“She wandered in while I was making breakfast. I think the storm’s scaring her; she hasn’t let me out of her sight since I got up.”

Vincent sighed, taking another look under the table. The dog definitely looked better since Leo gave it a good clean up the night before, and he figured that with some proper food and rest it would start to look like itself again.

Once they got it to the shelter, of course.

As if reading his mind, Leo piped up.

“She’s brightened up a bit since I found her. And she’s housetrained, which means someone did own her at one point.”

Vincent hummed, frowning.

“Wonder why they’d just abandon it like that.”

Leo huffed.

“I don’t know, but if I ever find them I’m going to kick their ass so hard they’ll be shitting out of their ears.”

Vincent snorted, failing to hide his grin.

“Classy.”

“I’m just saying,” Leo defended, raising his hands, “anyone who does that shit deserves to be put in their goddamn place.”

“Agreed.” While Vincent may not have been thrilled about their unexpected house guest, he wasn’t a monster.

The dog snuffled in its sleep, its tail flopping against Vincent’s foot.

-

“Vincent!”

Leo’s call rang out from the living room. Startled, Vincent poked his head inside.

“What?”

He was sitting on the couch, grinning excitedly and holding the old banjo they’d fixed up some months prior. The dog was sitting a few feet away, and it cocked its head curiously as Vincent entered the room.

“Watch this.”

Leo began to strum the banjo, playing a simple tune. As Vincent watched, the dog cautiously started walking towards the couch. Leo paused, and the dog stopped, then started again when he continued to play. He did that a few times, playing some sort of musical ‘red light, green light’ with the dog, until it was right at his feet. It laid its head on Leo’s knees, looking up at him as he finished the tune with a mellow strum.

Vincent couldn’t deny the way his heart warmed at the sight, but he still clapped sarcastically.

“Congratulations. You’re the pied piper of stray dogs.”

Leo didn’t react to the teasing as he scratched behind both of the dog’s ears, grinning at the happy thump of its tail against the carpet.

“Y’know, she looks like a Banjo.”

Vincent stared at him. “Leo, we’ve been rained in for less than a day. It’s way too early for you to be confusing animals with musical instruments.”

Leo gave him a look. It took a moment for his meaning to sink in, but when it did, Vincent’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, no. No, no no no. Leo, you are not naming it.”

“Why?” Leo ruffled the dog’s ears.

“Because we’re not keeping it.”

Tension thickened the air, the only sound the rain pounding against the window. Leo set his jaw.

“Yeah, you’ve made that plenty clear by now.”

Something in his voice made Vincent falter, but before he could analyze it, Leo was standing and brushing past him out of the room, leaving him alone with the dog.

Vincent sighed. The dog looked up at him, and Vincent had the distinct feeling he was being judged.

“Shut up,” he muttered to no one in particular.

-

Leo avoided him the rest of the day. By the time Vincent was able to get him to stay in the same room, he had already fallen asleep on the couch. The dog was, of course, laying on the floor next to him; it looked up when Vincent walked over.

He sighed, sinking down to the floor and leaning against the couch. Leo’s hand was hanging down by his face, and he gently lifted it and placed it on the cushion beside his head, giving it a fond pat.

A weight in his lap startled him. He looked down to see the dog looking up at him with big brown eyes, and he gave a reluctant smile.

“It’s not your fault,” he muttered, giving the dog a few gentle pats. “I’m...not used to dogs.”

The dog, of course, just stared. Vincent laughed under his breath.

“He loves you already, though. You must not be so bad.”

His smile fell, and he sighed.

“Though, maybe I’m not the best example.”

As if she could sense his sadness, the dog nuzzled closer to him and closed her eyes. With a soft hum, Vincent scratched her behind the ear as he leaned back against the couch.

“Not so bad at all.”

-

Despite Vincent being the one who fell asleep on the floor, Leo looked like the walking dead as he dragged himself into the kitchen the next morning. Vincent looked up at him from where he leaned against the counter, giving him an amused once-over.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Leo grumbled. Vincent chuckled into his cup of coffee--at least he didn’t seem upset anymore.

“I hope you’re planning on changing your clothes before we go.”

Leo frowned at him, blearily rubbing his eyes.

“What?”

Vincent gestured to the window, where the heavy rainclouds had been replaced by a bright blue sky.

“Rain’s let up, and I called ahead to the shelter.”

Leo seemed to deflate.

“Oh. Right.”

“...They redirected me to the veterinarian, but luckily they’re open too.”

Vincent had to work to keep his straight face as he watched Leo process the words.

“What? Why?”

Vincent took a sip of his coffee.

“Well, they don’t do vaccinations at the shelter, and she should get a checkup and maybe some vitamins.” He nodded to the dog, who had padded into the room to sniff at Leo’s socked feet when she’d heard him walk in.

Leo looked at him suspiciously, but Vincent could see the faintest trace of hope in his eyes.

“Why do we need all that?”

Vincent let himself break into a grin then.

“As much as I love you, I think we could both do with the help of a trained professional to take care of our dog.”

Leo stared at him for a few long moments, face blank. Then he crossed the floor in three big steps, grabbed Vincent’s face, and kissed him hard.

“You mean it?” he asked breathlessly, a brilliant grin on his face. “We’re keeping her?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Fucking--yes, of course! Oh my god--”

Vincent laughed as Leo kissed him again.

“Go change,” he said, gently pushing him back. “Don’t want the vet mistaking you for the stray.”

“Fuck off,” Leo laughed. He gave Vincent one last peck on the lips before hurrying off to their bedroom.

Vincent set his coffee down on the counter, still smiling. A gentle nudge at his leg made him look down.

“Don’t worry, Banjo,” he said softly, reaching down to ruffle her ears. “You’re home now.”

[sanghyukstattoos]

About

Characters: Kim Inseong x Reader 

Genre: Fluff-fluff, smut-smut (protected sex, cock warming)

Summary: After masturbating without your boyfriend for all those months that he was on tour, phone sex after he would get to his hotel room and late-night calls about each other’s day and how much you missed each other, he was finally back home!

A/N: To Blue, thank you so much for this request and I’m terribly sorry for delaying it :// I analysed your request to the smallest detail 💕 and so I absolutely hope that you love it! Tell me how you feel after reading it and I also hope that it lived up to your expectations. Just like how you loved my request, I love the vivid thoughts from your mind! 😊😁💓

From the cutest smiles to the cutest hugs, he was all yours and you loved every bit of it. After a long of work, you’d be swooped into a warm hug- the type that made you deflate in his arms and want to stay there for the entire night (which you did). On a date, he would excitedly want to take silly pictures with silly poses especially ones that captured him kissing you. You gladly accepted his kisses and squirmed a little in delight when it was unexpected, loving them all the same.

Plopping on the sofa with a thud, the hem of Inseong’s shirt rose up to reveal your bare thighs. Your arms were spread out, one dangling off the sofa while the other tugged up his shirt to inhale the smell that reminded you of him. You sighed absentmindedly, thinking about his overactive nature that would perk up at the mention of you. Anytime he’d come home, he’d be full of ideas and thoughts from the shoots or performances that occurred throughout the day and it never struck you, how much you had missed all of that. 

With every kiss, you’d be more inviting and at some of time, you’d turn without caution and he’d give you this little accidental kiss to the lips. This would surprise him and the expression on his face would cause you to laugh. Whenever the two of you went on dates to the park or garden, there would always be a moment or two of him fondly looking at you or snuggling into the crook of your neck. 

On dates though, there would always be at least two or more sessions where the two of you would leisurely make-out against the beautiful greens of trees and blues of the lake. Pink was the taste that accentuated the softness of his lips. The same pink that you would come back for over and over again. He’d lower himself slowly onto your lips, wanting you to anticipate the kiss before it could even occur. There was no rush in how he always wanted you to know how much he cared for you. 

On other days when he desired all of you, he’d take you back home mid-date and make love to you senseless for hours on end so that by the time the two of you were done, you’d both be knocked out, laying in each other’s arms fast asleep. You squeezed your legs at the thought thinking about how it was a terrible time to want him in between your legs. Phone sex was great but nothing beat having him rail you against the mattress shared by the two of you. 

No bra, skimpy panties and with only his shirt on, you groaned, peeping from your spot to the clock. He should be home any minute now, you thought, getting up from the sofa to look at the door. As soon as you turned back, you heard the sound of keys in the keyhole and the lock unlocking which had you turning around in surprise. Inseong stepped into the house and dropped his bags on the floor, gladly taking in the scent of what home smelled like. 

You ran with hurried steps and jumped onto him, the sound of your footsteps alerting him as he caught you. His arms instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around his neck, giving him the softest little pecks along the corners of his mouth. Chuckles left his mouth at your kisses that made his heart bounce at the contact. He gradually made his way to the bedroom, murmuring a small, ‘’hey’’ with that smile you missed against your lips, grasping the back of your head as nimble fingers twirled the loose strands of your hair. 

Tasting your lips as he held you close to him, you could feel the heat of his body mingle with yours as your bodies touched one another’s. ‘’I missed you so much’’ he whispered, unaware of the sadness colouring his eyes. You felt your chest hurt at the look in his eyes and went to squish his cheeks in between your palms. You let the sadness show but then let a smile slip and he smiled at the sense of overwhelming desire to let it fade away in something else. 

Seeing him now was almost unreal after all the time you had spent alone on the bed, one side cold while every part of the house contained your memories with him. It was impossible to go somewhere where the two of you hadn’t already been.

Your marks touched every part of the house and fingers tracing those marks bought back memories that made your chest hurt. However, you had also pushed those feelings away, knowing that he’d be back. Before he could even get out a laugh, you held his face to still his movements. His chuckles turned into a smile when his sparkling, doe eyes became fascinated with what you were feeling. 

‘‘Can you tell?’‘ you asked, hearing a hum from him. ‘‘That I missed you so much’‘ you continued, enunciating each word so that you could keep him here for longer. He nodded as you pulled back to look at him. After months of not seeing him, you were relieved to have him back into your arms so that in the night, it would be the two of you again, side by side.

Gently laying you on the bed, he hovered over you; face so close that if you arched you back, his lips could touch your neck. His frame covered the glare of the light on top allowing you to see where his eyes roamed. They fluttered over your choice of clothing, slowly drinking in the sight of you in his clothes, leaving lots of room for his dirty thoughts. Your arms spread out as he leaned away, moving closer to your sex, fingers hooking in the bands of your panties and watching as they came off your legs. 

They were now lost, somewhere in the room and his fingers wandered till he found the ends of his shirt and pulled it off your body. You breasts were exposed to the pleasant air of the room, nipples hardening while your core ached with the need to be touched. You bit your lip as his digits slid across your toned stomach, across the curve and to your sex. He slowly slid his digits into your wet entrance, the substance of your arousal thickly coating his fingers. With a slow pace, he drew out your soft moans into little pants along with the squelching of your pussy filling the room.

His cute, baby eyes stared at the way yours were shut, back arching as he brushed a thumb over your clit, sending jolts up your spine no less. He leant down, head in between your legs and hair tickling your inner thighs, pressed a kiss so close to your sex, your hands were left to fumble for the sheets, clutching them in a tight grip. 

Choked moans escaped your mouth greedily as you spread your legs further, bringing a hand to his hair and loosely running your fingers through the strands. You wanted to kiss him, yet his hot breath fanned your inner thigh and over your sex as he lazily slid his fingers into your cunt. Each kiss was sloppy, leaving a trail of wetness as he went before finally placing a kiss to your clit. Your wetness stained his mouth, his tongue licking a stripe of off your sex. 

You shuddered at how well his wet muscle took in your juices but your sex trembled when he ran it over your clit. He curled his fingers as he dove into your pussy, reaching for the spot that made you cry out a choked moan in his name. While he was away on tour, he had missed you for so long especially the way you smelt, the way you reacted to him and the intimate natures of the sex you had together. 

His tongue excitedly swirled your clit, intertwining his fingers with yours after they had reached out for his soft tufts of hair. His fingers that momentarily stilled in your sex, resumed their motions and were accompanied by the lapping of his tongue. Two digits thrusted your pussy at an unconsciously quick pace, the sounds tumbling out of your mouth as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

You felt you orgasm near from the tightness in your stomach to the quickness of his fingers and tongue. Words couldn’t pour out from your mouth, the pleasure side lining your need to ask him to stop. Squeezing his hand, his fingers slowed down as he lifted his head, eyes snapping open at the same time to meet yours.

Seeing the confusion on his face made you heartily smile, saying, ‘’You, I want you in me before I can come’’. He chuckled, returning your smile and squeezing your hand back, nodded. Carefully removing his fingers from your sex, your arousal was still ever present. You could see your juices all over his digits and his mouth as you lifted yourself off your back. 

His knees touched the mattress to face you as you did the same. From the moment you too came close, his fingers were predisposed to feel your body as were yours that hooked onto his belt, sliding the thick material from the hoops that enclosed it. Your eyes met and with no caution, he grasped the back of your ass and pulled you into his arms, lips meeting yours in a feverish but delicate embrace. 

Your surprise quickly faded into the heat that swirled from your body heat to his, relishing in the kiss from the way his lips felt wrapped around yours. Your arms moved to loosely sit on his shoulders as he kneaded your ass, the other hand experimentally tweaking your nipple. With that much, he drew a moan from you causing you to press yourself around him, feeling your juices drip from your pussy from how hot you felt down there. 

His hand left your nipples to lay flat on your back, your nipples now touched his shirt, the friction making you want to rub your legs together. He poured out all that he had felt from missing you into the kiss, loosening his grip on you and took this opportunity to remove his belt. The sound of the thick material around his waist sliding out of the hoops could be heard, the kiss slowed down where his lips lingered at the point where the two of you could meet. 

You were in his embrace, his arms loosely yet comfortably holding you but they never left their heat from your skin. You let the button slip from the slit it went through and grasped the zip, bringing it down. Without a pause, you hooked your hands in his trousers and brought it down to his knees, next palming him over his boxers. The bulge had grown and little stains of precum could be seen through it, so when you started to palm him, you heard a tender growl pass his lips, sensitive to the touch. 

Biting your lips, you brought his boxers to his knees, letting his cock spring out. The tip hit his stomach, his groan rumbling his chest when you wrapped your hand around his cock, bending your head and swiping the precum from his tip. Using his precum, you bobbed your head to spread it over his cock, using your hand to stroke his balls. Your saliva coated his cock, strings of it dripping at the corners of your mouth. 

Leaning back after you had coated his cock in a mixture of saliva and his precum, he lifted you and connected your lips in a sweet embrace. You could taste each other in your mouth, your hand casually stroking him. He grasped your legs and spread them apart, leaning down to align his cock with your entrance. Nipping and sucking at your neck, you held his head as he entered you. 

His cock slid up your walls, your wetness and the coating around his cock making it easier from him to access your pussy. A sigh of relief left the both of you and he stilled as he bottomed out, moving closer to you. You wrapped your arms around his torso and gently, he laid you on your back, propping himself on his elbows as he slowly thrusted into you. 

The pillows surrounded your head and soon, the both of you were reunited in your most intimate space in your shared apartment. He pressed a soft kiss to your neck that he laid in, even softer moans spilling out into the kiss while your fingers gently ran over his tensed back muscles, heavy breaths filling the room. After a couple of months without each other, he surely made love to you, closing his eyes to the way you sounded as he thrusted into your warm heat. 

Your heads touched as you held him close, wanting to continuously feel him inside you whether he was railing you against the kitchen counter or making sweet love to you in your bedroom. You were glad that he was back as was he, smelling the scent of his hair while he gently held you as the two of you had long- desired sex. You moaned out his name into his ear and he took this as a sign to reach out to your clit and added the extra pleasure. 

Pleasant light from open curtains glittered through the windows and illuminated the sensual ways in which he moved against you, thrusted into you and how you held each other in your embraces. Connecting your lips to his, the kiss wasn’t messy or sloppy despite the juices around your mouth but rather, sentimental and lovingly full of warmth. You felt the tightness loosen as you came all over his cock with a high moan and he gently coaxed you through your release. 

Whispering soothing words of all his love for you, you came from your heightened sensitivity to him. His touches and his words and how he expressed these let you feel your release with even more responsiveness, your hold on his frame unfaltering. He noticed all your sensitivities from coming: the way your legs trembled, body jerked, back arched and face scrunched in pleasure after your session of love making. His cock twitched inside you just as he pulled out, breathing heavily while stroking himself till thick and heavy spurts of cum painted your torso. 

As he laid down beside you, your arms reached out to hold him. You rested your head on a pillow and he chose to rest on your chest, hair sprawled over your breasts. ‘’How are you feeling?’’ you asked, running your fingers through his hair, concerned for how tired he must have been from all the travelling. He hummed, responding, ‘’I’m okay, can we?’’. You nodded and moments later, he stroked his cock once again, watching it become erect once again. Your chest was now touching his and throwing a leg over his waist, he held your naked body close to his, aligning his cock to your entrance and gently entering you. 

Once you were connected, you reached out for the covers, half-caring where they landed as long as they were covering the two of you. Inseong placed a small kiss to your lips before retreating to the area in between your neck and the mattress, falling asleep instantly. You held him as he fell asleep, taking some moments to feel content that he was back home with you and that it would be a while before he had to go once again. It meant that you had him to yourself for that amount of time and you too smiled, before falling asleep with Inseong by your side. 

[eerythingisshaka]

Manhattan’s Finest

First Part

[Dr. Manhattan x Black Reader]

Word Count: 2.4K

The crowd erupts after the final song from the play ‘It’s a Bird! It’s a Plane!  It’s Dr. Manhattan!’  Whistles and cheers fill the auditorium as the performers take a bow, receiving gifts from loved ones in the audience.  

You cheer along with them all, having enjoyed the play more than you expected to.  A friend of yours was supposed to come along but flaked out at the last minute.  It’s fine, at $95 a ticket, you would’ve loved to have used their ticket on dinner instead but life is shit.  

You wait for the auditorium to clear out before you get going yourself.  It is much better not walking over people and pushing into each other as much as possible.  When you make it outside, the muggy air makes you instantly miss the air conditioning inside the theater.  Another $95 for a cool breeze would be worth it.

“(y/n)”

You look to your left seeing a man in a suit with a blue mask.  His skin is also tinted blue, somewhere between winterfresh gum and blue raspberry jolly ranchers.

“Hi?  Oh, are you one of the performers?!”  you ask excitedly, running up to him, but being taken aback by how tall he is.  “You were awesome up there.  There were a couple Manhattans but were you the one that sang ‘Blue is the Blood that Runs Cold’?  Because man, I have never heard a vibrato like that.  It was very impressive.”

“I am not a performer in this production,”  he says flatly.

You cock your head to the side, observing his manner.  “But...then why all the blue?  And did I introduce myself, because I don’t remember telling you.”

“You do, later on in the evening.”

You blink a couple times.  “I’m going home to bed after your play.  How could I be talking to you?”

“As I said, I am not a performer or member of staff on this production.  And I am sorry that you cannot afford the dinner with your unrequited love tonight who is making love to his superior right now, but in time it will-”

“Whoa, what the hell did you just say?  His boss?  And what do you mean?  I don’t love him!”

Unshifting, he continues, “I believe love can exist even in one sided instances.  I am finding myself in that position right now by the end of the week.”

You take a step towards him and then to the side, watching him follow your movement.  “Ok, I just had to make sure you have eyes under there.  You’re stiff as hell.”

He gives a small chuckle that makes you laugh nervously.  “Heh, what’s funny?”

“That is what you say to me when we take the train back to your place.  You enjoy public displays of affection, both innocent and explicit.”

You groan with disgust.  “I haven’t done shit like that a day in my life.  How dare you!”

“You do not, because of fear and weak men.  You’ve gone all your life thus far picking unattainable partners because you do not see yourself worthy of the ones that truly excite you.”

You cross your arms, growing all the more impatient.  “Who are you?”

“I am Dr. Manhattan.”

“PFFFFF!  HAHAHA!”  You laugh out loud, causing passersby to stare.  “You are too much!”

He scoffs, making you question him again.  “If I tell you, you will become physical.”

“Try me, nothing is wilder than saying you are Dr. Manhattan.”

“That phrase you said ‘you are too much’, is something you say during the heat of passion as I penetrate you in the foyer of your home.”

Hearing this makes your blood boil, feeling disrespected is something you refuse to tolerate.  You push your hands against his chest hard; he barely flinches, instead lowering his head.

“You’re a perverted bastard is what you are!  Take that fucking mask off coward, so I know whose ass I’m finna beat.”

“I cannot remove my mask.  It would draw too much attention.”

“HA!  But telling a random woman that she’s gonna be stroking your dick by midnight isn’t attention seeking?”

“11:38 pm.”

“What?”  you ask exasperatedly.  

“11:38 pm, not midnight.  It is 10:15 now, with a 20 minute walk to the station and another 20 minute wait after just missing your train added to your travel time, it will be 11:38 pm.”

“I AM DONE HERE!  Have a shitty night!”  You walk away, looking back just once.  “And no one really likes Dr. Manhattan except for his huge dick which I am sure you are lacking!” Your heels clack down the sidewalk furiously with the snap of your heel.  Steam practically rises off of your body as you think back to the imbecile who couldn’t keep it in his pants.  You come up to an intersection and check your phone, which sparks the thought of how he knew about your name and your date bailing and if there was any truth to why he stood you up.

“Is it better for you that I prove myself to be Dr. Manhattan?”

You jump a little too close to the curb, steadying yourself on a nearby pole.  “You aren’t him, just shut up about it.”

“But you are curious, aren’t you?”

You look blankly at the road, running over what he said to you before  again.  “What’s his name?”

“Whose?”

You roll your eyes.  “If you are Dr. Manhattan, you would know who I am talking about.”

“I do, I just...need to hear you ask it,” he says.

The cross signal goes on and you begin to strut across.  “Oh, is there going to be a rip in the space time continuum if I don’t do things exactly as you predict?”

“They are not predictions but current events.  This is already the past.”

You look back at him walking next to you and it unnerves you how he is able to keep up with your hurried stride like a swan on water.  He doesn’t sound anxious or out of breath and his body has no bounce even when he steps.

You stop in a quiet part of the street, taking out your phone to turn on the flashlight, beaming it in his face.  “What is my date’s name?”

“Crawford.  You like that name very much, like Redford or Ashford.”

You pause for a second in silence.  “What does he do for a living?”

“Marketing, not unlike yourself.  He is up for a promotion but his relationship with his superior is making him feel insecure about his worthiness of moving up in his company however he is in love with her.”

Your heart caves in a little at the word love.  You didn’t think an office fling would come to that, so soon.  

“He shared many things with you, vulnerably.  They were truthful, so you should not regret those moments.  However, opening yourself up to him has only led to your heartbreak sooner.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  you ask softly, feeling tears swell up in your eyes.

He takes a beat before continuing.  “You took his vulnerability as a sign of trust and therefore evidence that he loves you but because of his strife, you thought it would take time.  However, he was only using you for his own gain.  You gave him advice that you thought would make him see you as the object of his affection but it instead pushed him further into her arms.”

You scoff, making a tear jump down your cheek.  You turn the phone light off, trying your best to hide your emotion.  “I still don’t believe you.”

You pull up your friend’s phone number and dial him.  The trill of the call ringing in your ear is painful, so you hang up and text him.

“That will be regrettable tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know.  Dr. Manhattan doesn’t have to tell me that for it to be true.”  You walk down the street at a slower pace, allowing him to walk next to you without resistance.  

“Ok.  Manhattan, huh?  I’m (y/n).”

“I know,” he says lightly.

“Of course you do.  So even though you aren’t from the play, you do know what the play is about right?  They didn’t say anything original that everybody doesn’t already think.”

“I find people’s fixation on my purpose to be distracting.  When the world has developed exponentially over the decades and yet resists change in its most basic forms should be infuriating enough to not dwell on me.”

You tweak your mouth, impressed by his analysis.  “I can’t fault you for that.  But a blue guy from space with powers is an interesting subject.  And you’re usually taller right?”

“I don’t need the attention from that,” he says.

“But blue skin isn’t distracting?”  you quip.

“I don’t choose forms on a whim.  There has to be purpose.”

“So what purpose do you have here with me?  Or am I a stepping stone to somewhere else, because that is a popular feature of mine,” you say deflated.

“You are a beacon of positive energy, which is attractive to most.  But not everyone deserves it.”

“So you are going to mentor me?”

“I am going to love you, and you will love me.  In time.”

You throw your hands in the air in frustration.  “How can you when you don’t know me!”

“But I do,”  he says, stopping at the entrance of the train station, to open the door for you.

“Fine.  Dog’s name.”

“Shrek.”

“Favorite movie?”

“The Color Purple.”

“Third grade teacher’s name?”

“Mr. Rideau, and I believe you had a crush on him.”

“NO!  I did not!”  You walk past him in a huff, completely embarrassed that he outed your interest in your teacher in public like that.  You trot down the stairs, expecting your train to arrive in a minute but instead you see that very train pulling off as your hop off the last step.  

“Dammit!”  You collect your composure and plop down on a bench to await the next arrival.  Dr. Manhattan slinks next to you.  

You check him out in your peripheral, looking behind your shoulder.  “You should really not be blue waiting on the train.  No one here knows about the show so you stick out like a sore thumb.”

Dr. Manhattan looks slowly at his hands, before turning to you.  “I could change, if you like.”

You sigh.  “If I had a dollar for every man who told me that.”  Looking straight into the black holes of his mask is unnerving to you, feeling a chill run down your spine makes you shiver.

“It’s probably for the best, because this is freaking me out.”

“What would you like for me to look like?”

You shrug.  “I can just build you piece by piece?”

He nods.  “Essentially.”

You look Manhattan up and down in a complete loss.  “I don’t have time for details.  When I think of a man I just want them tall, big pockets and a bigger dick.”  This sparks a thought in your mind, making you slide slightly closer to him.  “Ok, I know you not about that musical or rumors, but is it true about…”  You point toward his lap inconspicuously.

“That I am well endowed?  Ah well, those measures are up to the individual.  You may see for yourself if you like.” 

Your body rears back in surprise.  “That’s probably what you were looking for this whole time!  You’re ridiculous.”

Dr. Manhattan sits unphased.  “I won’t force you to, but I know you will.  I mentioned it before.  I know this is a fantasy of yours, despite my person being involved.”

“So I can just rub on your dick and it means nothing for you?  That’s almost disappointing...but this night has already been wild, so feeling up a stranger ain’t far off.”  You look around the practically empty station, taking your hand slowly up his thigh until you felt something solid and girthy.

“You’re stiff as hell!”  you exclaim, quickly taking your hand back.

“It is a normal state in which I remain in this form.”

“And it’s blue just like you huh?”

“Correct.”

You shake your head.  “I don’t think I have it in me to look, so I’ll take your word for it.”

An announcement comes on saying your train is arriving soon.  You check your phone; it’s 10:54pm.  

“Listen.  There’s no way I can sit with you blue on this damn train.  So what do you do, hocus pocus into a Black man?”

“It helps to have a reference in mind,” he says.

“You think for a beat before taking out your phone and looking through Instagram.  “If I show you a picture, will that do?”

“Of course.  I can emulate imagery.”

You look through your feed as quick as you can pulling up the profile, and your favorite picture.

“Him.   Can you change into him?”

His face leans into your phone for a moment.  In the time it takes for you to blink, a blue light flashes and before you is the man from your feed.  The rush of air from the train kicks particles in your eyes, and you rub them for relief and proof that this isn’t a dream.  But in front of you is the likeness.  

“This is dangerous,” you say, trying to pick your jaw off the ground.  He looks around and at his hands, adjusts his suit, then looks at you.

“Is this better?”  

You hold your mouth gasping.  “You even sound like him!  A little stiffer, but very much like him,”

His complexion in person is just as clear as his photos with deep brown hue that has nary a blemish.  Strong jaw cloaked in a close trimmed beard that frames the exterior of his wide, chunky lips.  He blinks at you with a gaze of innocence and naivete.

You remember to breathe and answer, “Yes.  It’s much much better.”  The ding of the train alerting its departure snaps you back to reality, grabbing his hand to make it through the closing doors just in time.  

You find two empty seats in the back, sitting next to the window.  You sit next to him nervously, playing with your hands as the train rumbles down the tracks.  You look out over the city passing you both and catch his reflection in the window staring at you.  His eyes look happy.

“What?”  you ask quietly, looking back at him.

[alolanrain]

Have some random HC’s for the Champions. Their all in different lengths and I’m on mobile, as always, so be prepared for a LONG post.

——————

I love the very personal, and maybe a very heavy projected, HC I have that Ash is actually really tired all the time but his ADHD just gives him the drive to go Do Things because if he doesn’t he gets really bad anxiety and the giant need to Stim his arms off if he’s not moving. Like it’s hard for him to find the Zone to where he can sit still and not completely vibrate off his seat. So when he’s in Alola he like buys a bunch of different stim toys and Professor Kukui is kind of put off bu the amount he gets and the variety. Like I’m talking chew toys, the ones with silent buttons and tiny joy sticks, ones that just have weird textures that you just rub between your fingers, etc. Ash keeps them up in the loft near his bag of clothes and away from where Rockruff/Lycanroc can get to them and only takes one until it’s either destroyed/lost/or he ends up giving it to one of his friends who need to get some extra energy out and they usually forget to give it back to him until the end of the day. Kukui starts to see Ash’s grades rise pretty steadily and even starting to surpass a few others in the class, though he still lacks in certain categories like Math and Reading. Surprisingly Ash is excelling rapidly in the writing and history portion and during history lessens actually gently corrects Kukui on a few more really big recent events.

——

So like all the Champions father around for a more personal Q&A type of interview and one of the questions are “what’s your favorite type of flavor/food/dessert/etc? and why?”

Ash excitedly blurts out honey and that actually surprises a few of them, they honestly thought Ash would just say that he liked all foods. He goes and explains that his Grandma, before she past away, in Galar had this GIANT honey farm and she had stacks upon stacks of books ranging from dinner books to dessert books that use’s honey in the dishes. She had different flavors of honey, honey ice cream, somehow frozen honey that you suck on like a lollipop, this list goes on and on. She died when he was around 8 and all her bee Pokémon were donated to other honey farmers that she knew and wrote into her will. Delia wasn’t a fan of the bee Pokémon’s so she didn’t get one and Ash was really sad about that. He deflates afterwards and admitted he’s never had any of those treats/foods after her death besides plain honey sticks because he can’t find anything else that matches up to his Grandma’s honey and he’s not very keen on going and finding some bee Pokémon on his own since they need extensive care and constant attention which Ash can’t give with his lifestyle and work load.

Wallace soon pipes up that his favorite food of all time is actually mint chocolat ice cream because he and his dad, before he passed away from stage two Cancer, would go out each weekend in the summer tk a nearby ice cream stand and buy one come each before walking around the park that was right next to their house.

Leon adds that he actually likes food with lavender some how incorporated into it because his dad also liked lavender as well. He always brings a few lavender flowers every time he visits his dads grave with Hop when both are free to do so and that there’s only one restaurant in Wyndon that makes lavender ice cream and he and Raihan goes and get one after every match they have together. Even though Raihan likes stuff with Lemon in it instead of lavender.

Wallace jokes that Steven only likes plain stuff with vanilla in it but Lance fires back that Wallace always tries and makes homemade vanilla ice cream every year in Stevens birthday because he loves him.

Cynthia joins in that she craves mangos most of the time and she admits that she gets that from her Grandpa and even owns a giant cook book with all kinds of recipes with mangos incorporated.

Diantha likes dragon fruit a lot though she doesn’t have anything like a cookbook, she really likes this one restaurant that has a cooked dragon fruit dessert though.

Alder likes anything with cinnamon, he gets some light jokes at his dispense because of his hair color and him liking cinnamon, it was something he always loved from childhood.

———

Lance surprisingly wears the least amount of sleep wear among the Champions while Ash wears the most.

Like the most Lance is willing to wear on his very rare days off is a see through tank top and like some basketball shorts and that’s it.

Ash on the other hand is wearing a pair of sleep shorts under some giant pajama pants he snatched from one of his friends, a shirt, thick ass sweatshirt, and two pairs of socks on his feet.

———

Leon has this thing where he swaps one of his pillows with one of the reigning champions pillows. Like he has a red silky one from Lance, a soft white sliky one from Diantha, a long tan cased one from Alder, a black one from Steven and Wallace, and finally a grey t-shirt cotton one from Ash.

R*se tried to sneakily switch those pillows out for ones that actually match Leon’s room decor and bed spread. Leon got really offended that Rose would do such a thing, let alone having a fucking spare key to his house when Leon knows for a fact he didn’t say R*se or Oleana could have one, and promptly moved all his stuff from his house back to his mum’s and then sold his Wyndon house. R*se called Leon a child but Leon had called him out over Twitter and started the trend #PillowSnatcher

———

Alder can sing and sing very well. He usually only does it when one of his fellow colleagues are stressed or panicked. It’s deep and ironically his favorite song to sing under his breath is Chocolate Rain.

He finds it worryingly that he sings to Ash most of the time after he joins them on the line up, that and Leon is also an increasingly new occurrence.

———

Lance is League DadTM and Diantha runs an account where she, Cynthia, Alder, and the rest of the League try and catch Lance being a DadTM to Ash, Leon, and younger league members. It’s always captioned with “League Dad Strikes Again!” And Lance both hates it and loves it so much because it means he’s getting soft but Lance also doesn’t want to stop being a League DadTM because of the way the younger League always smiles more brightly at him when Lance remembers what snack or drink they like to consume after a hard day or by even just remembering their name at all.

He especially loves it when Ash gets all tired, this happened when he was much younger and started out as Lance’s secondary Champion, and sways on his feet back and forth nearing the end of a social gathering or some other kind of high end event. He was Lance’s escape excuse and he also liked to pick Ash up and have the kid snuggle into him. That action always bright him some sort of comfort knowing that he’s helping Ash.

———

On Mario Kart night they always end off it with a short Disney movie. Ash always finds himself squished between Lance and Leon. They’ed take the deepest couch to accommodate both Leon and Lance’s shoulder width. Ash would be settled on Leon’s chest and Lance would be facing away from the screen and curled up in Leon’s side. None of them really remember when this started but it soon became their end of the night ritual.

Leon also had to carry Lance and Ash back up to their secret rooms and more often then naught Leon got pulled into one of their beds for continued cuddling.

———

Speaking of Game Night!

Ash is usually the first one to the house that they always rent, and by ‘rent’ I mean it’s Wallace’s passed Uncles house that was given to him through his Will and that Wallace let’s people rent it out because it’s big and fancy and really affordable, and sets up everything.

This is where Ash’s keen sense of smell comes into play heavily becaus to him if one Champions smell mixes with another it could cause him to go into a bad headache. Like if the two Champions are cuddling or standing together Ash is completely fine! It’s just the objects that reek with their smell.

Wallace and Steven are by the lover sofa closest to the fire, Cynthia and Diantha have their blankets and pillows spilling onto the floor off of the two person sofa because that’s how they usually end up, Lance is mostly on the floor or he’ll join Alder who has the longest Sofa in the furthest in the back because he likes to read and also people watch the other Champions having fun, and Ash and Leon mostly share the more deeper width couch since Leon likes to use this time to catch up and sleep and Ash likes to use Leon as a cuddle buddy.

All their stuff is color coded as well; Wallace has teal, Steven has gray, Diantha has black, Diantha has white, Alder had reddish-orange, Lance has a dark red, Leon has purple, and Ash has dark blue.

Usually at the end of the night everyone kind of steal one thing from everyone else’s piles throughout the night. Like Wallace and Steven would be sharing one of Lance’s blankets and Wallace would have stollen Diantha’s Pangoro Pillow Pet. Alder has taken one of Ash’s pillows that had fallen to the floor and one of Stevens gray weighted blankets out of his thirty-something spares because EVERYONE likes to steal his weighted blankets instead of bringing their own.

———

All the rest of the adults are very worried for Ash’s mental health and would constantly ask if he’s okay or if there’s anything they can do to help support him or his friends. Like the kid could ask for anything and they’ll try their damn best to get it for him because Ash has risked his life for the world and their Region. It’s the least they can do for him.

This also causes Ash to get very awkward and uncharacteristically shy most of the time or to start crying softly because what their doing is a hell of a lot more then a lot of people back at his home town and this is including his mom and Professor Oak who prefer not to talk about Ash’s... Little Incidents.

The first crying session had Lance practically pulling tooth by tooth out of Ash until the older champion got the whole storie. Lance then preceded to pull every blackmail, illegal evidence, and use almost every advantage of his title and position to get the kid to be able to meet Lance’s therapist. Ash was floored and very shy through out most of it until the end when Lance’s therapist made a little headway into Ash’s obvious PTSD and problems.

It’s kind of become their thing that every time Ash is home for more then a few weeks he and Lance would go to their Therapist for a joint session over something they both share. After they leave they go to a nearby tea shop and talk about some much more lighter subjects.

———

Ash bickers a lot with most of the Legendaries. It’s gotten to the point of sibling like name calling. There’s videos taken of Ash calmly calling Zekrom a dirt eater or Kyogre a off colored off sized Wailord.

———

Back to the favorite food thing. Ash has this stupid fucking OP ability where if he consumes any kind of thing with honey in it, all his open wounds/big bruises would magically stitch back together. No one, and including Ash, knows where he got the stupid ability or when it started to happen but after every big Incident or when he gets hurt Ash, his friends, or a league member would go quickly grab him something with honey in it.

His favorite so far has to be some hibiscus tea with honey that Professor Kukui made him after they had come back from saving Lusamine. Ash had gotten large bruises at his side and Kukui worriedly watched them slowly disappear after like five minutes and Ash had gulped down three cups of the cold tea.

[sunshine-shitposts]

((Takes place present day 😌))

Announcement

～

Catherine Gupta had just settled in to her seat overlooking the newly-blooming springtime greenery on the Dallas Speedwagon Foundation grounds, coffee in hand and a breakfast packed by her doting husband on her sleek desk, warm and ready for her to eat. She sipped her drink, watching employees below milling about outside and smiled to herself, content.

It was a lovely day.

She swiveled her chair around, ready to open her breakfast, when she heard the elevator outside in the hallway ding, then the stomping of excited feet running to her door.

"CAT!! CAT CAN I PLEEEASE COME IN???"

Catherine shook her head, smirking amusedly. "Come in. I'm surprised you're still up."

The door burst open and there stood Sunnie, dark purple hair disheveled and still in her sleep shirt and shorts. Her eyes were wide and her breath was coming out in huffs, and her Stand hovered behind her, radiating equally excited energy.

"Did you know about this???" Sunnie asked, bouncing on her heels and pointing at her phone.

"Know about what?" Catherine hummed, eyes teasing as she took another sip.

"PINK DARK BOY ANIME!!!" Sunnie nearly shouted, running up to her desk and hopping in one of the chairs.

Dust in the Wind followed, her fists clenched and body wiggling in the air like a kid eager to share a secret as bright windchime noises floated by.

"Oh?" Catherine did her best to play it coy, but her façade was slipping, "What about it?"

"There's a—there's a thing!! At the Morioh location!! An event, they're doing a—and special merch!!! And a café!!!" Sunnie's eyes glittered in the morning light and her arms waved excitedly, and Windy began swooping behind her in animated figure eights. "Catherine, please please PLEEEASE let me go on behalf of the Dallas Branch or something because I gotta be there!!"

Catherine, feeling playful, leaned back in her seat, tapping a freshly manicured finger on her chin in mock-thought. "Hm. I don't know, Sunnie. Your physical's on the 10th, isn't it? And you're going to run some wind speed tests with Ellison, if I'm recalling…"

Immediately, Sunnie stilled, gaze serious. "Hey Cat. Remember that first mission I went on?"

"Oh," Catherine's shoulders deflated somewhat, "You're bringing that up, are you?"

"Damn right I am. You said you owed me. I would like to exchange my IOU for a sweet-ass trip to Morioh."

Catherine considered Sunnie for a moment, then laughed lightly. "I was teasing you, Sunnie. Of course you can go." Sunnie yelped triumphantly, throwing her fists in the air. "On one condition: you take a partner. You know how Dio gets when he's worried about you. I'm not willing to put up with his dramatics like that again."

But Sunnie was already on her phone, typing on the screen furiously. "I already know who I'm gonna take!! Thank you so much, Cat. This means the world."

"You know I'm not comfortable with you leaving me, darling," Dio murmured, wrapping around the much smaller woman protectively as she snuggled further into both their shared bed and his chest, "I know that I cannot stop you, and I have neither desire nor intention to try to do so, but after what happened in Maine, I do worry."

Sunnie leaned into his hand as it eclipsed her head, playing gently with her hair. "I know, D. It's sweet of you." She turned her head to press a kiss into his palm before nuzzling him again. "It's chill though. I'm bringing Toby."

"Oh you are, are you?" Dio smiled, hugging her tighter. "He'll be an excellent travel companion. I do wish I could be there, but as the Foundation hasn't necessarily cleared my 'release' yet…"

"Yeah," Sunnie murmured, "but once you're able to finally get out of here for good and become a real employee, we're for sure going back to Norway to celebrate."

"Indeed," he agreed, watching her eyes drift shut.

"...You can watch the livestream of the event, you know," Sunnie mumbled sleepily.

"Is that right?"

"Yeah." A pause, then a whispered, "I'll blow kisses at you from a camera."

He chuckled. "How precious. Rest well, my love."

Upstairs in her office, Catherine's phone rang. She glanced at the Caller ID and sighed, bookmarking her well-loved volume of Pink Dark Boy and setting it on her desk before picking up the receiver.

[2-cute-4-school]

He loved, he really did

Group : NCT

Pairing : Zhong Chenle x f!Reader

Genre : fluff, a pinch of angst? friends to lovers

Word count : 2500

M.list

If there was one thing Chenle just couldn’t understand about his best friend was how oblivious she could be sometimes. Not only did he hint at his crush over her more times than he could count ever since he realized his feelings, but also Jisung, his other best friend who never missed a chance at teasing both of them despite the girl’s confusion. Chenle couldn’t help but feel foolish more often than not, falling in love with Y/N, the kid who ate mud hoping it would taste like chocolate in kindergarten and demonstrated that she may be the only one who could keep up with his odd antics. But Y/N was also the fiercely loyal girl who stayed glued to his side even when Chenle himself believed he didn’t deserve someone like her, the only one who dared to stand up for Jisung when he used to get teased in elementary school because of his shy demeanor and nerdy tendencies, gaining everyone’s respect through her fearless defense over her newly found friend. And all these things made Y/N herself, the one who got Zhong Chenle to love her endlessly.

Chenle’s poor excuses of flirty pick-up lines were always quickly shoot down by even more quirky replies who brought out a faded shade of pink across Chenle’s cheeks. But Y/N never seemed affected by their exchanges which frustrated Chenle to no end, deflating his burst of confidence immediately. Jisung always insisted that Chenle’s attempts were too mild for someone like Y/N who tends to leave a strong impression on anyone accompanied by dropped jaws that almost touch the ground and catch flies. 

“So is the basketball match still one or are you going to pussy out last minute?”

Chenle sighed, dragging a hand over his face and tightening the grip he had on his phone. He loved her voice, he really did. It always emanated confidence and you couldn’t help but stop and listen to her words as the entire world seemed to revolve around her in those moments. But when remarks like that left her mouth, Chenle couldn’t help but want to desperately zip it shut.

“Yeah, Y/N, it’s still on, but don’t cry too much when I wipe the floor with your sorry ass.”

“Don’t worry about little ol’ me, big head. I’ll see you at the court at 6.”

And with that, the line went dead. Y/N never left things up for discussion and she never refused a challenge. Another thing that Chenle admired about her. His frustration with his lack of courage only grew even more with every time he fell in love again with her, making his desire to be able to call Y/N ‘his’ almost impossible to suppress.

Chenle complied with her firm demand and trudged towards the basketball court five minutes earlier. He knew from experience he shouldn’t allow Y/N any chance to take him by surprise for every time he did, she left him with an erratic heartbeat that he simply couldn’t control, mentally scolding his heart for betraying him and showing itself on his sleeve at Y/N’s mere gaze.

He fiddled with the ball, bouncing it from hand to hand, twirling it on his finger and stumbling once he caught sight of Y/N. He didn’t feel butterflies in his stomach or his throat closing up and cutting his breath short. No, he felt oddly at home, a warm feeling spreading through him, melting him inside out, dipping his lovesick heart in bittersweet honey.

“Ready to go cry under mommy’s skirt?”

There she goes again.

“I don’t know, Y/N, are you?”

Chenle was convinced this was the reason they could never have nice things.

“I mean, I can accompany you if you’re shy.”

He felt a few hairs fall off his head and he rolled his eyes so hard he could see what was left of his half fried brain.

“Less talking and more dribbling, Y/N.”

Another thing Chenle came to realize that he doesn’t understand about his best friend was her seemingly unlimited supply of energy, which he didn’t take into account when challenging her. While after half an hour of running and blocking and jumping, it was only normal that Chenle’s breathing became heavier, borderline panting and his movements turned somewhat sluggish, but the last thing he wanted was to give Y/N satisfaction for defeating him at his own hobby. But of course, nothing escaped her vigilante eye and she simply couldn’t miss the perfect opportunity to tease him a bit.

“What happened, old man, is your body starting to decay?”

Her shit-eating grin gave him a run for his money. He loved her smile, he really did. It always softened him, bringing out his inner tenderness for the girl that never failed to shine through the thickest of clouds, stealing the sun’s role and making it pale with shame and bow before her feet while she only sported an innocent curl of the lip, a deceiving cuteness that hid her real power. But when her smile only served to mock him, Chenle couldn’t help but want to wipe it off her smug face.

“You wish.”

That went back and forth for a while, neither of them letting up, their competitive personalities soaring up and clashing on the basketball court. But when Y/N forced her luck, blocking him in an almost suffocating way, Chenle let loose and for a moment he forgot he was only playing against Y/N, his best friend, a kid with even less experience in basketball than himself and shoved vigorously against her in order to score a point. His energy burst must have surprised his opponent because he passed by her flawlessly resembling a feather guided by a gentle breeze of wind, jumped as high as his tired muscles allowed and easily scored.

Chenle could only bask in his glory, raising a clenched fist and pumping in through the air, overjoyed by his victory. He felt proud of himself, he demonstrated that at least when it came to his favorite sport there was no way he would ever give up or let himself be beaten.

“YES! Did you see that Y/N? Guess you’ll have to call your mom and-” Chenle twirled around, gripping the ball tightly, a bright grin adorning his glowing face. However, his teasing session was cut short the moment his gaze fell on Y/N, sprawled to the floor, supporting her upper half of the body with her arms which already seemed quite shaky in Chenle’s opinion. Her eyes were wide, sparkling as she stared at him with parted lips, breathing hard. Chenle’s words died in his throat as he realized that maybe he had been too rough, blinded by his desire to prove himself.

“Y/N.”

The ball was dropped, forgotten on the floor, bouncing almost sadly at having been left behind without a care in the world as Chenle rushed over to Y/N. He crouched at her level and hovered over her, too afraid to touch her n case she would get even madder. 

‘Well done, Zhong Chenle, you have a crush once in your lifetime and you screw it over before you even stood a chance, well played.’ He could only worry about Y/N who was standing still, following him with her stare, an expression of disbelief painting her features.

“Y/N, are you okay? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Chenle, are you kidding me?! That was so awesome, I’ve never seen you play like that, what the heck possessed you, child?”

It was his turn to freeze as Y/N continued to babble excitedly and praise him in her unique way. On one side he was thrilled because he had succeeded in getting Y/N to acknowledge him and a warm feeling resembling fulfillment spread through his chest at the thought of Y/N priding herself with him, but at the same time he couldn’t ignore the tinge of worry settled in his frantic heart.

“You HAVE to teach me, hear me?”

He was snapped out of him jumbled thoughts by her hands gripping his shoulders and shaking him to gain his full attention. Y/N was smiling so wide her facial muscles must have hurt the earlier sparkle in her eyes only intensified, almost blinding Chenle and drowning him in her charm. He felt as if a fluffy blanket wrapped up his soul, and suddenly he was reminded of too sweet hot chocolate after a snow fight, drunk in the warmth of each other.

“How much will you pay me to?”

She huffed with a pout forming on her lips and he had to fight his urge to just lean over a bit and slot his lips against her, settling their status once and for all. But he only softly wrapped his fingers around her wrists, detaching her from himself when he observed the small, red scratch on her left palm. He tugged on her hand, bringing it closer to his face, inspecting the wound with a frown etched on his face, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You’re hurt.” His voice was small and laced with guilt. Y/N checked her palm too, only now observing the scrape. She still kept her smile, maybe even enlarging it as she met eyes with Chenle.

“You call this hurt? You should see the other guy.”

Chenle could only shake his head, not so surprised at her lack of care. He couldn’t fight off the smile that stretched his lips at Y/N’s fighting spirit as he stood up straight, dragging her with him.

“Let’s go get a band-aid from the pharmacy.”

“Oh yes, you wouldn’t want your one and only to bleed out from this horrifying gash now, would you?”

A trip later to the pharmacy nearby and back, they finally found themselves settled on a bench, partially shadowed by a tree as Chenle stuck the pink band-aid decorated with Hello Kitties over the small scratch, shooting Y/N another apologetic smile. They sat comfortably side by side, watching the sun disappear under the horizon, leaving hues of pink and orange scattered over the darkening sky in a frenzy painting for everyone to admire.

As Chenle turned his head, he watched Y/N from the corner of his eye. She wasn’t doing anything, but somehow she still became the center of Chenel’s universe. The way the dying sun rays danced across her face, kissing her skin delicately left him in a wordless wonder, the scenery above him pales in comparison to his angel sitting just under his fingertips, breathing the same air as him, sharing the same bench with him.

And her eyes, God, her eyes. He loved her eyes, he really did. They were always comforting, he could find his childhood in them, all the laughs and tears they have shared over the years. They reminded him he could be himself, he could let himself show weakness, he could love fearlessly because she would stay by his side unconditionally. But when the colors swayed so wildly over her deep orbs, Chenle couldn’t help but love them the most.

“You know, I take additional charges for starting.”

For once, Chenle didn’t startle as he looked straight into her playful eyes he adored so much. He inhaled deeply before taking a leap of faith in himself.

“Y/N, I love you.”

She only let a small grin grace her features as her index finger unconsciously traced delicate patterns over the back of his hand and Chenle couldn’t be more thankful for her calming habit.

“I love you too.”

Chenle frantically shook his head from side to side, trying not to let the desperation he felt show on his face or seep in his voice.

“No, you don’t understand, I love you”

“Oh”

Silence settled over them once again. But this time it wasn’t comfortable. It was thick and Chenle could almost choke on it, it suffocated him, the bitter feeling it came with tasting bitter in his mouth. He lowered his head, glaring holes into the pavement beneath his feet as regret pooled in his stomach, eating up at him and clouding his mind with hazy, messy thoughts.

He really despised his heart at that moment. He just lost the best thing in his life. He lost her because his heart couldn’t keep away from the forbidden fruit and strayed away on unsafe paths that brought his fall. And there was no turning back now.

Just as he let venomous thoughts invade his judgment, dainty fingers touched his cheek, caressing it lightly as if holding a fragile flower and gently turned his head to come face to face with his most precious treasure. Chenle shakily brought one of his hands over hers, cupping it over his face and caressing her knuckles with his thumb in an attempt to soothe himself.

“Wasn’t that settled already?”

Chenle’s eyes widened significantly.

“What?”

“I thought it was a wordless settlement, that we love each other... in that way. I thought you already knew I love you, in a different way from how I love the sky, a simple curious admiration, and different from how I love Jisung, like a cherished brother, I thought you knew I loved you like I love no one else.”

Chenle was breathless, mind foggy as he tried to take in Y/N’s words and differentiate them from a mere dream, a very vivid one. He couldn’t believe it. He had been having her right under his nose all this time and he was unaware of it. He let her slip away from him at the end of the day without showing her his complete and utter love for her so many times just to find out he had her all along, but he just didn’t realize. Oh, how fate played him this time. Chenle felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, every ounce of love buried deep inside himself that he kept hidden spilled over and there was no stopping him as he cupped her face in his hands, cradling her with such care the sun would have wanted to return just to share this moment with them.

Chenle felt on top of the world, ruling over everything, over his heart and mind after being at war with himself for so long. He felt like they were the only people left on Earth at that moment, a pair of children head over heels in love with each other, and who could deny a love so pure. As they parted for air, he knew that now that he had a taste of heaven, he wouldn’t be able to ever let it go.

“You know, I think I’ll have to charge you more than that, Chenle.”

Y/N’s light teasing only spurred him even more to bring their lips together once more, cherishing every second spent together, making up for the time they wasted like fools.

And it was then and there that Chenle concluded he loved her, he really did.

[jungxk]

just one (vi)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: smut (f recieving), protected sex

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 5.3k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x 

you watch sadly as you tip your case of empty paint tubes into the bin. they were your absolute favourite, a birthday gift from jimin almost two years ago. you had been so careful and stingy with them all this time to preserve as much as possible - at least to get you to the end of the semester - so it was disheartening to have to finally throw them out. oils were always your favourite. still, there wasn't much time for moping; if you were to get your next piece finished by the deadline you better start now because of the drying period between layers of watercolour.

"maybe jungkook has a hairdryer..." you mumble to yourself before padding over to his room. he's sitting at his tiny little work desk with his back to you when you peek over his shoulder. "kook, do you have a hairdryer?"

he points without removing his eyes from the screen. "the bottom drawer over there."

"thanks," you do a double take as you pass him with the appliance in tow, his eyes a little bloodshot and face twisted into what looks like terror. usually you couldn't so much as clean a paintbrush without jungkook all over you while you were at his place, but he barely spoke the whole afternoon. you take a tentative step towards him, because if he was anything like jimin when he's stressed he might get rabid. "you alright?"

"i dunno, am i?" he collapses back into the chair, threading his fingers through his hair which was getting wonderfully long. but the only thing you can pay attention to now are his panicked eyes and jittery knees. "i don't know what the fuck any of these numbers mean! why do i even need this for photography-"

"what is it?" you smooth your hand over his back, muscles stiff.

he deflates under your touch. "i agreed to peers taking questionnaires about my portfolio so far and i fucking regret it, noona. this stats software looks nothing like minecraft. i dont know what this all means. my prof said it'd help with cohesiveness - whatever that means - but he's off on one if he thinks this has done anything other than confuse me and ruin my life."

you try your best to hold back a smile, but jungkook is so cute when he's pouty and frustrated. "okay, well what are your variables?"

"my what? baby, i'm not in the mood right now-"

"no you dipshit, like," you gesture with your hands. "what are the things you're measuring? in the questionnaire?"

jungkook stares at you blankly. "i'm...what?"

you roll your eyes, grabbing the back of his chair to swivel him and plop onto his lap. "let me see."

jungkook has no idea what's going on, both because he doesn't know what you're talking about and also because you're covering the screen so he's spared of having to follow your clicking and tinkering. all he knows is that you fit nicely on his lap and that your bare thighs are warm on his, and it's much easier to focus on that anyway. especially since you aren't wearing underwear. after a few minutes he hooks his chin over your shoulder to at least try to keep up. "what are you doing, noona?"

"just cleaning up your dataset," you mumble. you finally perk up after a few more minutes. "oh, okay! so all you want to know is if the people who like the first half of your portfolio like the second half just as much, and whether that opinion affects the other? like a correlation, right?"

he sits up excitedly. "yeah! yeah, that's it," he stares at your profile in disbelief while you waste no time in running the analyses. "how do you know about this stuff, noona?"

"i did stats in my science major. the software i had back then, now that was a real pain in the ass. but this one isn't so bad," you reply absently while jungkook keeps staring at you like you're an angel that descended from the heavens especially for him. he has yet to believe otherwise. "hmm, you know i think you can skip all the sample level descriptives and cronbach's alpha scores and go straight to pearson's r if all you're looking for is a correlation. what would you prefer?"

he breathes in your hair; coconut, jasmine. his cologne. "you’re so sexy when i don’t understand what you’re saying."

x

x

x

jimin's face twists when he tests the contents of the pan. "can you tell me why this tastes like tae's dirty socks?"

“can you tell me why you know what tae’s dirty socks taste like?” you lean over the counter, swiping a finger over the ladle before bringing it to your mouth. you always used to cook for your family when you were younger, and although you had gone off it after what happened, you didn't mind when it was with jimin. with him, you didn't think about the memories of cutting onions with your father or grinding chillies with your mother and sister. it all felt new again, something that was never tarnished. which is why jimin is the only one you can stand to cook with even if he's unable to make anything but mojitos and a single pasta dish. "not enough garlic."

he squints at his phone while you manoeuvre him out of your way. "but it says two cloves in the recipe?"

"it's never two cloves," you take the knife and start to crush and peel more. "always start with four, maybe five."

"can't we just order takeout?" jimin pouts pathetically. he just washed his hair so its still damp, cheeks a rosy from the bathroom steam. you only wish his long line of hookups could see their ladies man now, bundled up in a powerpuff girls  sweater that he stole from you months ago.

"no," you pluck his phone from his hand before he can dial, replacing it with more cloves for him to peel. "you've been having takeout all week! all that oil can't be good for you, what's the point of sweating your tits off in that gym if you're just gonna eat shit?"

"i don't always eat shit!"

"jimin. we share a just eat email account. i know the chinese place isn't sending me customer loyalty codes," he rounds the stool where you're sat in the small place between your back and the wall, his palm skirting behind your waist to move you gently aside. "just let me see you eat a vegetable today, i'm begging. so if you keel over tomorrow from IBS i'll feel less guilty."

"alright alright," he huffs, rubbing at his puffy eyes with his sleeve before picking up the knife again. "i don't see what the big deal is, if i was breaking out then that'd be another issue but my body can clearly handle it. maybe it's like that episode of drake and josh where his body becomes accustomed to all the junk food he eats and-"

"please don't use drake and josh as a marker for your health."

"fine," and then without missing a beat, "but what about kenan and kel? all that orange soda and kel was totally fine. healthy even."

"physically, maybe. but did you see the screw in the tuna episode? don't tell me he didn't have inner demons that may or may not have been increased by an overly processed diet," you pause. "wait, am i the kenan in this friendship?"

"depends. i want to say you're the brains but i've also seen you try to open a can with a fork, so."

"hey! that wasn't my fault!" you exclaim, but jimin ignores you purposely. "taehyung told me you fucked yeri in the kitchen, how was i supposed to know what was and wasn't contaminated?"

"___, the fork was plastic."

"well what else would you have me do, starve?"

"what is this, the fucking famine? you said it yourself, we share a just eat email so the smart thing to do would be order. besides i dunno what makes you think i'd fuck a girl with a can opener in my vicinity anyway-"

"um, you're you," you chastise. "so i rest my case."

"then i'm definitely kenan," jimin laughs when you swat at him before your phone vibrates, one after another until it almost falls off the kitchen counter if you didn't grab it in time. you don't dare to unlock your phone when you see the contact name on the screen, too hyper-aware of jimin eyeing you over the chopping board. even he sees the gist of the messages jungkook sent you.

[jungkook 7:13pm] u left ur shirt here again noona

[jungkook 7:13pm] at this rate ur never gonna get it back are u :)

[jungkook 7:14pm] i'm free all day tomorrow

[jungkook 7:16pm] wanna come over?

[jungkook 7:16pm] i still haven't washed it btw so

[jungkook 7:17pm] we can do laundry together :))

[jungkook 7:18pm] or maybe later tonight ? i can pick u up ?

you don't even get a good read of the messages - all those smiley faces gave you enough of an idea. it wasn't a surprise or anything, but you still switch your phone to do not disturb and leave it face down on the counter like you have something to hide. which you don't. so why did it feel so wrong? so disrespectful, here in jimin's kitchen? you gnaw at your cheek.

jimin has his back to you so thankfully you're spared of having to gage his expression. he's probably sent a million thirsty texts so he knows what they look like, knows that he shouldn't be surprised. still, he shifts from foot to foot uneasily. the only thing that makes him stop is you leaning wordlessly over him to lower the stove to a simmer, turning the tap on to wash some rice and hum quietly. here was jeon jungkook, arguably the biggest stud on campus blowing up your phone on a friday night but nothing felt different. you'd always choose him and jimin knew that.

"what do you think of egg fried rice?" you ask over your shoulder. "i haven't made it in ages. the one with the veggies?"

jimin smiles. "i love that one,"

x

x

x

"he's not back yet?" you ask when yoongi lets you into the flat, shoulders deflating childishly. he gives you a lazy shake of his head before nudging you to the sofa to take up your usual spot on the matted cushion in the corner, kicking your shoes away and sitting cross legged. yoongi and namjoon's flat was only round the corner from jungkook's, a worn down little two-bed that smelled rather questionable at times, but it quickly became a familiar place. a safe place. especially because of how often you'd come over while jungkook was running late at class or the gym or photo-hunting. coming to terms with the fact that you were sleeping with jungkook wasn't that hard, but being friends with his friends was.

"it's leg day. you know how jungkookie feels about his chicken calves," yoongi says before flopping down next to you. namjoon was tucked into the other side with a book, effectively squishing you into yoongi with his big shoulders. if jungkook was here he'd pout about having nowhere to sit and the thought only makes you more pleased. "he'd be there until sundown if you weren't waiting for him."

"are you sure you're one to talk about chicken legs?" you reach to tickle yoongi's knees and he barely manages to flinch away in time.

"i love my chicken legs the way they are, thanks. can't say the same for your boyfriend though."

you freeze. "i told you to stop saying that, yoongi. you know he hates the b word. one more slip up and you won't ever see me here again. last time he avoided me for two weeks!"

"never see you again? doubt it. your hair clogged the shower drain yesterday so you pretty much owe rent at this point," yoongi keeps flicking through the channels on the television. "besides, i know what a man with a monkey on his back looks like. kookie just doesn't like being reminded of it because unfortunately for him there's no rehab to quit you."

a rush of blood goes straight to your cheeks. yoongi loves to tease you and you know that, second only to jungkook who actually does get off to it, but you still tap nervously on the carpet with your toes while desperately hoping for namjoon to step into the conversation with a weird conspiracy theory or black hole fact he read on an astronomy blog. anything to dig you out of this metaphorical hole you and jungkook are hellbent on ignoring. yoongi sees the way you curl in on yourself slightly, a sensible and collected flower like you reduced to a fidgety school girl. it's cute.

"hyung," namjoon says with his eyes still glued to his book. "stop winding her up or her face'll explode and then jiminie will come for your throat."

yoongi scoffs. "and? what's that short-ass gonna do, cry on me to death?"

"you're like two inches taller than him."

"two and a half, actually."

"so he really was a crybaby?" you scoot to fold your legs under you. "jungkook told me before but i didn't believe him! i've tried everything but i can never get a reaction out of jimin...i mean, if horny isn't an emotion."

"oh yeah, totally," namjoon puts an arm on the back on the back of the sofa behind you when he looks up. his silver hair brings out the beautifully rich undertone of his skin and it's difficult not to stare, being so close. "if the patriarchy hadn't fucked him up he'd be a real tree hugger, i'm sure of it. but the last time i saw him cry was...hmm..."

"five years ago," yoongi chimes. "when jungkookie got caught."

"ooooh yeah," namjoon nods. "but jimin and jungkook were super close back then. he was so protective of him, waited in the custody office for hours until they finally-"

"wait," you look between them. "caught? what do you mean?"

the boys exchange a glance between them. it's not like you didn't know that yoongi sells weed and often with namjoon's help. in fact, they often told you about their wild stories and close calls. but they had never mentioned jungkook being involved with any of that stuff, and neither had he. you always just assumed that he'd kept his head out of it, being a college student and all but yoongi's shrugging and namjoon's pursed lips tell you otherwise.

"jungkook got charged with possession as a minor," yoongi says. "i mean, seventeen but still. too baby-faced."

"jungkook sold for you?" you repeat, not quite believing your ears. he had always been the better off out of his friends that often did shadier things, but the more you got to know him the more you felt like the jungkook you heard about and the jungkook you knew were two different boys. it really shouldn't have come as a surprise, since he had practically grown up with yoongi, namjoon and jimin. his hyungs were his family and he'd do anything for them, there was really no reason he wouldn't take up their trade.

"oh yeah, almost a year. he was good at it too," namjoon laughs. "our kookie's good at everything if you give him enough chances."

"so what happened?" you press. "does he...does he still sell?"

"are you kidding? we got him out of all that shit the second he stepped out the office," yoongi rubs the back of his neck. "jungkook isn't like us. he's a good kid with a lot of talent and he didn't need to be doing all that you know? we convinced him to go to school instead but even then, jimin made us swear to look out for him because he left earlier than kookie."

"wow, jimin really hasn't changed," you lean back. "in like, taking care of people i mean. so is that when jungkook got into photography? he did talk about getting his first camera when he was like eighteen or something..."

namjoon nods happily in recollection. "yup! we were so proud when jungkook got accepted into university, especially after jimin and hobi. people from our town don't usually pursue higher education-"

"especially with kookie's record," yoongi laughs.

"why?" you blink at him.

"the weed was one thing, but jungkook also got a strike for violence."

namjoon winces. "hyung, he's gonna throw a tantrum if you tell her..."

"i don't care. she's fucking him, she has a right to know," yoongi retorts evenly, dark eyes swivelling to meet yours. his light hair is matted from under his beanie, barely missing his lashes. "a few years ago jungkook beat a guy so bad he had to go into emergency. it was pretty gross. broken nose, missing teeth, you name it. he's been on thin ice since but he doesn't act like it."

you take a second to digest the information. "do you...do you know why?" you waver, unable to keep the horror from your voice. "knocking a guy's teeth out? people don't just do that!"

"kookie did," namjoon sighs.

"but why? it's so...i just can't imagine jungkook doing something like that..."

"something like what?"

your head snaps to the doorway where jungkook can be seen only partially when he bends over to unlace his shoes, namjoon and yoongi simultaneously pinching your legs to wipe the wide-eyed look off your face. it was one of the many times when wearing your heart on your sleeve did not do you any favours. you just about manage to look normal enough within the half a second it takes for jungkook to come in, hair mussed from his post-gym shower and tee wrinkled from being stuffed into the bottom of his bag. his eyes look extra big today, nose and knuckles blushed pink from all the lifting. he couldn't look farther from the violent offender yoongi and namjoon described. in fact, the sudden urge to kiss him hello was near suffocating.

"i was telling her about the time you wore hyung's underwear for two weeks," namjoon explains, years of lying paying off with how smoothly he returns to his book.

"what!" yoongi splutters. "are you kidding?! a whole week, jungkook that's disgusting-"

the younger boy winces. "not the same pair!"

"wait. you took more than one?!"

"um..."

"how many. tell me right now you little shit."

"i promise they were clean!" jungkook says defensively, but his buck teeth show in a defensive little grin. it's impossible to be mad at him. "my washing machine broke, remember? and i never have change so i didn't go to the laundrette's and-"

"which ones?" yoongi's voice becomes obnoxiously loud with dismay. "tell me right now so can go upstairs and burn them. jesus jungkook you could have at least asked me, now i have to live with the knowledge that your bollocks is acquainted with mine until i die-"

"hyung they were clean," jungkook insists. "and if i asked i knew you wouldn't have let me borrow them!"

"yeah because it's gross! why didn't you just take joonie's?"

"i did. but he caught me and told me to take yours instead."

you just about manage to insert yourself between yoongi before he can grab a fistful of namjoon's hair while jungkook throws back his head in a loud cackle.

x

x

x

[jimin 7:58pm] you dont mind do u?

it's hard not to roll your eyes at his message, momentarily leaving your phone on the bed while you unclasp your bra. it wasn't the first time jimin had bailed on you last minute because of some girl he'd picked up for longer than expected. you're just thankful that this time he had the courtesy to tell you before you got to his house and burst into his bedroom without knocking only to see areas of your best friend you really did not need to see. even though you shudder at the memories - yes, plural - the sinking feeling of disappointment can't be masked. it's movie night.

[you 8:01pm] yh its fine

[you 8:02pm] but u owe me one i put on a bra for you asshole

[jimin 8:04pm] ofc babe

[jimin 8:04] just skip it next time :)

you snort before locking your phone and throwing it on the bed, padding over the room in your knickers to select some sleeping shorts off the floor. jisoo went home for a family birthday and seulgi had a deadline for monday, so it was safe to say you were alone for the weekend. you were used to being alone but you didn't like it; it was the reason why you'd always trudge to jimin's if the girls weren't home or even yoongi and namjoon's, even if it was just to take a nap on their sofa. you needed the noise, the background bickering. that's why there's only so much paint brush washing and kitchen cleaning you can do before reaching for your phone and messaging jungkook.

or at least that's what you tell yourself when he's in your bed within the hour, head resting on your stomach and his leg thrown over your ankles. you trace along the tattoo on his bicep closest to you, admiring the cohesiveness and line placement while jungkook dozes off, like he often does after sex. he's had a long week so you let him sleep, hair sticking up and mouth open like a toddler, so impossibly cute you can't help combing through his nape. jungkook doesn't often spend the night at yours so this was a rarity, and you had to admit he did look a little out of place in your tiny little room. he was far too big for your bed, one foot already hanging off, clothes and jacket hurled into the corner with only cheap fairy lights to rely on so you don't go tripping over his shoes at the door.

you could draw him like this. jungkook's eyelashes are short and pin-straight, eyebrows angled and distinctive. quick, sharp pencil strokes. he's got the faintest shadow above his top lip from where didn't have time to shave today. you'd use charcoal for his hair, black with a slight wave. a swooping curve for his nose, a more gentle line for his jaw. he looks harmless like this: not at all resembling the boy yoongi described.

"why are you so quiet, noona?" he grumbles into the duvet, eyes still closed. "you should be snoring my ears off by now."

you pout. "i'm too busy wondering how i'm gonna get your river of drool out of my pillow."

he snorts. "throw your sheets in on a fast cycle and voila."

"what fast cycle? i just press every button on the machine until it starts."

he opens his eyes. "you're an animal."

you laugh, tugging on the roots of his hair where your hand is still nestled inside. "how do you know so much about washing machines anyway?"

"my mum worked a lot growing up," jungkook yawns. "hyung did the cooking and i did the laundry."

you freeze. "you have a brother?"

"i swear i told you that," he scoots across your stomach, taking the pillow with him to position it over your hip so he can look at you properly. his eyes look glassy in the lights, lids hooded and hair pushed back. a real dreamboat wrapped in a hello kitty duvet. "two years older, same as jimin."

"no wonder jimin cares about you so much," you keep playing with his hair, watching his eyes droop closed. "he may as well be your brother." jungkook hums in reply, growing more and more drowsy from all the petting. "so...how come your mum worked so much?"

his eyes open to look at you, hesitating. "dad left when we were young. she didn't really have a choice."

"i didn't know that jungkook..." you pause. "that must have been hard."

he rolls to face the ceiling, like he's thinking twice before he answers. "not really. eomma's a badass, there's nothing she can't handle. yeah money and stuff wasn't easy, and it sucked when i was younger and didn't understand why hyung and eomma were so upset after what happened, but it's whatever. the three of us are so good together, you know? i like it like this."

you nod. because you do know. or, did. you wonder now if that's the reason jungkook got involved with yoongi and namjoon in the first place, to help out his family, but even you know some questions are better left unasked. instead, you chip away at jungkook while you can, since you know barely anything about him beyond student life and his friends. who knows when he would be in the mood to open up again. "so what does your brother do?"

"an accountant. for some fancy law firm in the city," he smiles. "hyung is super smart. like you."

you laugh. "you know i didn't finish my first major, right?"

"by choice. not because you weren't capable," he finishes, and to that you have no choice but to shut up. no one had ever put it that way before. "he's super quiet like you too, keeps to himself. gives really good advice. oh my god, and his kimchi pork stew - amazing!" his teeth gleam take up his whole mouth when he smiles, lines creasing around his eyes. "so many times when me and mum would argue, hyung was the reason why we'd stop. guess i got her temper."

you watch him closely. "you argued often?"

"at one point, yeah. not because we didn't like each other or anything, just..." you can see him hesitating again, cheek sucked in from where he chews it while staring up at the ceiling as if the memories are playing back at him on a projector. you keep quiet, let him get there on his own. "mum went through a phase where she dated a lot. felt bad that neither of us had a father figure and all that bullshit. she brought home some real dickheads, some top tier cunts i'm telling you. and i...wasn't exactly nice to them. ever since then i just hate seeing girls be pushed around by assholes, you know? it does something to me, i dunno. here," he lays a hand over his stomach. "i can't just watch. i can't. it's like i'm gonna be sick."

it's hard not to cry listening to him, seeing the lines in his forehead appear along with the crinkle above his nose. it made sense now, what yoongi told you about before. thinking back to the whole escapade with jinyoung in your kitchen, the whole thing hit you differently.

jungkook was exactly the kind of boy your old family would have frowned upon, reckless and thoughtless and emotionally-driven in the face of adversity. absolutely everything you were taught not to be. but you admired him for those very reasons. before you can start crying you sit up, silencing jungkook with a kiss before he can ask you what's wrong. it's firm and deliberate, your hands holding both his cheeks. he's breathless. "you seriously fucking worry me, slick."

"oh?" his eyes stay focused on your lips while he moves to you, positions you underneath him on the foot of the bed, pulling your thighs around his hips so you gasp at the feel of his semi on your soft inner thigh. he dips his head to kiss along your sternum, hand ghosting over your breasts before closing his mouth around your nipple.

"i nev-never know what you're gonna do next," you exhale shakily, arching into him involuntarily at the sensation. jungkook takes the opportunity to rub the pads of his fingers against your cunt, using the remnants of your arousal to help you along. sure enough you accept his fingers greedily, but he takes his time in stretching you out and easing in further, further.

his thumb gently passes over your clit and you shake. "never? not even now?"

you have to forcibly yank his face away from your tits to kiss him, slowly and with passion. his skin grows damp under your hands, muscles rippling under your touch from where he holds himself up on his forearms. he likes feeling the softness of your tummy against his, your thick thighs cushioning him snugly against you. just like always, it's torture having to pull away from you for a brief second to grab a condom, but the familiar chuckle you breathe out to see him speed back into your arms almost makes it worth it. you take the packet from him, about to tear it open before he grabs your hand with a cheeky smile. "in a minute."

before you can question him about it you yelp he tugs you by the hips, sliding up to angle your ass so your knees have no choice but to hook over his shoulders. jungkook's arms wind around the top of your thighs, thick and secure, nails scraping gently through your coarse curls before he pulls your legs apart as wide as they'll go and lowers his mouth onto you. the noise you make is just as embarrassing as always, so loud and uncontrollable, hysterical even. you've gotten used to being jungkook's fourth, fifth and sixth meal of the day but he steals your breath away every time, leaves you squirming and trembling and this instance was no exception. today he was feeling indulgent so he eats you out messily, makes sure he's loud enough for you hear every squelch and slurp. you physically shake when he sucks a gently kiss to your clit, proud of yourself for not screaming. jungkook, however, isn't happy about that and keeps sucking until you do. harder, harder, and then filling you up with his fingers so you have something to clench around when you cum all over him in a rush.

your back is still off the bed when he reaches your eye level again, the family sound of the foil wrapper ripping from the condom packet making you lift your head up to look at him. he's already rolling it down his length when he peer downwards, and even though you only get a glimpse of his blushing head he's sticky and hot with pre-cum. you wiggle in anticipation and jungkook laughs at your cuteness before leaning back down, taking your hands in his for a change. he can see the appeal, interlocking your fingers with his palms against yours and using only his hips as leverage to push into your sopping center, letting you move against him so he's lodged in as deep as he can fit before he starts rocking into you.

your moans are his favourite song, maybe that's why he wants to listen to them all day. he'd like to make you cum again but it's difficult for him once his hips start stuttering uncontrollably, no matter how much he tries to slow his pace. you let go of his hands then to take his face, his eyes closed when he feels you press your smooth lips to his cheekbone; an encouraging kiss. a go on, i want you to kiss. the moan he let's out before giving in is fragile and wispy, nose digging into your neck while he ruts against you to his end. you clench around him harder just to hear jungkook whimper again, pliant and weak in your arms. all of a sudden, out of nowhere you wish you could feel the rush of his cream spilling from you when he pulls out to discard the condom. he nestles back into your breasts afterwards, smelling himself on your skin. 

jungkook falls asleep smiling.