#hope I didn't forget anything but please ask to tag if necessary

[dopepoisonivyoncrack]

Vampire Askin Nakk Le Vaar x Viewer Made for Dance with the Dead Halloween collab. 2023 Part 3: The Haunted Lovely orchestrated by @nagumoan

Thank you for allowing me to join! This piece and the whole set of hcs, imagines and AU that were born with it, wouldn't have happened without this event. Wish you a lovely autumn and delightfully dark Halloween!

Traditional art on A4 paper with colored ink and pencils.

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks for the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Three

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 14.9k

Release date: March 24, 2024

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: Now that Seokjin has agreed to come over and help you practice for your streams, you find there's a lot more you want to do with him than actually prepare for this stream.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety and panic attacks HEAVILY referenced in this chapter, familial verbal and emotional abuse that might be triggering to some (slamming of doors, manipulative behaviors), references to puberty, implied chubby/fat reader, references to disordered eating (not main characters), references to oral (f), mention of sub drop, Seokjin is STRONG and the king of consent, lots of little domestic moments idk let's hope I didn't forget anything

a/n: Ahh finally, I'm so sorry it took so long to get to you. I have been very busy in my little corner of reality so I haven't had a chance to really dive back in for a while. I hope you enjoy more of the backstory to the characters in this one, I found pulling away from the spicy bits a little necessary so I could learn more about my characters as they grow.

I'll be in South Korea these next few weeks for my birthday, so I might be mostly offline but I'll enjoy looking at your comments, tags, questions, etc, while I'm away! Thanks for your patience. Enjoy! -h

This, she thinks, is goodbye. Her body sprawled in the silk sheets of August’s chamber, head thrust back onto the plush pillows. Never again in her life did she think she would see the dark beams of his ceiling again, yet now, her legs bent and open for him, his lips eagerly suckling her inner thigh, she couldn’t imagine life any other way. 

How many times had she counted each knot in the wood above her, her eyes tracing the swirl and swell of the grain while August swirled the swell of her sex? Perfectly matched in this way, as if he were reading her like a map he’d crafted himself. He knew her. Knew all of her, how the heady moan leaving her throat now was a sign she was becoming impatient with his thorough ministrations. 

She dared to risk a glance down, only to see him watching her intently, devilishly choosing that moment to latch himself onto her, a wicked smirk flashing across his face as she elicited a hearty gasp. 

“August,” she breathed, instinctively tangling her fingers through his newly-raven hair, dyed dark now to comply with his family’s request. While his once-bleached locks were the definite sign of his rebellion, a sign that he would fight against the ruling state and their convoluted and asinine laws that prevented royalty from marrying a commoner, she admitted his natural hair suited him more. He looked less harsh this way, his delicate skin creamy and soft as she skimmed her fingertips across his cheek. 

“No,” he breathed into her sex, sending a delightful shiver down her spine. 

Something about the glint in his eye as he feasted upon her spelled out more than simple lust. No, she forbade herself to think that this was more than a parting gift, a transaction before she would be cast aside for his betrothed. 

“Please,” she begged, though she knew she was asking for many things in that request. Please end the hunger between her legs, please end his engagement. Please take her to bed tonight and tomorrow and every night after. Please love me. 

“Say my name,” he growled, sitting up to wipe his mouth with the back of his robe sleeve.

“August,” she called but he only chuckled darkly, the cool blue of the fabric cascading around him. 

 She felt so exposed. Here she was, completely naked, and yet he hadn’t even begun to undress. It felt cold, final, and sickening. Her eyes roved his body, looking for more skin, anything to keep her close to him at this moment, but he was so carefully tucked away. 

“August,” she said again and he shook his head. 

“That’s not my name,” he argued. 

Her eyebrows knit together, and she reached forward, needing now more than ever to touch him. She was drowning fast in the night, the blue robes sweeping over both their bodies as he leaned closer, finally letting her grip his forearm as she groped around. He was drifting from her in one way or another, his body a boat on the water that was capsizing her under his waves. 

“I–I can’t. I can’t see you. I–.” A rush of white hot panic surged into her throat, constricting her words. As she began drowning, August moved quickly, disrobing himself and pulling her into his embrace. She gasped for air as she wrenched out a heavy sob, her nipples stroking the soft hairs on his chest, yet she ignored the sensation instead for the thing she needed more: his heartbeat. 

There, in his chest, was the melodic thrum that sought to calm her erratic one, calling her home to him in the cold night air. 

“Breathe, Petal,” he commanded, and she felt a rush of air fall from her lungs as she remembered once more to do the most simple of human tendencies. His arms laced around her back, where the soft tracing of his fingers along her spine brought her back into herself. 

“I’m sorry,” she cried, a prick of tears falling despite her best efforts to appear unaffected. 

He hummed in response. 

“Stay with me,” he whispered, and she felt her joints loosen as she molded herself further into his embrace. 

“I want to,” she replied, voice unsteady. “Sugar, please just hold me.”

He melted into her, a pool of warmth overtaking him as he absorbed her nickname. He kissed her forehead, her temples, everywhere his mouth could spread some of the sweetness.

After long, she hummed a satisfied sound through her lips, and her hips began rocking against him. He laid her back down, his eyes searching hers before the corner of his mouth ticked into a smirk. 

“You with me?” he asked, his smirk becoming a full grin as she bucked further toward him, desperate and wanting. He was back, the ever-changing prince who within a blink of an eye could transform the room into his sensual paradise. 

August’s hand skimmed up her calf and back between her thighs, resting up against her heat. 

“August,” she panted, and he chuckled darkly, the scar over his eye almost glowing in the moonlight. 

“I told you that’s not my name,” he warned, sliding his fingers into her wet folds. 

“Seokjin,” you said, his name caught in your throat as he continued moving.

“Good girl,” he coaxed, two of his fingers covering the edges of your clit as he began rolling it under his touch. 

“Fuck.” 

The wooden beams were gone. Now it was the familiar white plaster that you often looked at, trying to remember what constellations were above during what season, though you could never see the stars anyway in this part of the city. 

Seokjin pulled himself up off the chamber bed, though the chamber was hazy, almost pixelated as you realized around you it was not the chamber of August and his beloved, but your small bedroom. 

“Focus,” he commanded, and your eyes flashed over to Seokjin, who was naked and sweaty, his chest flush like it was when you’d seen him before. His fingers roamed over your calf and he lifted you leg at an angle, exposing your pussy to the cool air. 

Seokjin licked his lips and began swirling his fingers around your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. 

“You gonna be good for me?” he asked and you moaned an affirmative as you felt the first of his fingers tip into you. 

“Nuh uh, use your words, Y/N.” 

You opened your mouth to beg but found no words could come out. He cocked his head, confused. Seokjin reached over to touch your face. You felt nothing. 

“What–”

The plop of the book hitting the floor jars you awake. At some point in reading, you must’ve dozed off, your world and the book world merging into a hot, overwhelming dream that has your heart racing. 

He’s in your mind again, Seokjin. And it really is all your fault. Because you’ve spent the rest of your weekend and the first half of this week texting him with a plan to put this After Dark stream into place, an idea that you hadn’t really thought through before proposing to him. 

You know you want this, to feel at ease in your body and confident to hold your own on streams. Especially since the option to quit is becoming less and less of an option. This week, your university confirmed your withdrawal, meaning that for the next few months you’ll be focusing on streaming and working more shifts at the restaurant to try and replenish your income for the summer term. 

And that also means you’ll be seeing Seokjin a lot more often. Your stomach does a tiny flip just thinking about it. 

Now with him being around you everywhere, all the time, your subconscious has been drifting to dreams of him, and every waking thought is somehow finding a way to wiggle him in. At the market this morning, you were walking through the produce section where you noticed a large pile of mangoes on sale. Does Seokjin like mangoes? you’d wondered. That shirt on the mannequin would look good on Seokjin. That dog looks like the one in the old picture in Seokjin’s office. What would Seokjin think about this recurring ad? 

It’s becoming relentless. So much so that you also find yourself asking him random questions to take the edge off. 

Me 1:47PM: Thoughts about fruit on pizza. 

Seokjin 1:50PM: Are you asking because we are having pizza later?

Me 1:51PM: No I was just wondering

Me 1:51PM: Unless you want that later? I can get us some 

Me 1:51PM: I’ll pay

Seokjin 1:51PM: No you will not! I’ll pay

Seokjin 1:53PM: Also depends on the kind of fruit

Seokjin 1:53PM: Never had blueberries on pizza. 

Seokjin 1:54PM: But I would maybe try it. Pineapple is fine though.

Seokjin 1:55PM: I’ll pick up the pizza on the way over. Be there at 6. 

Seokjin agreed to stop by today to do some roleplay exercises for you to practice before your stream later tonight. He thought it was important that you run through the full scale of situations you might be presented with so you could say no firmly but without risking losing your viewership, two things equally at odds with each other for you most of the time. 

You look for your phone in the mess of your couch cushions, assuming that at some point in your impromptu nap, it slunk down between the crack. Sure enough, you find it nestled between two cushions, the comfort of its weight in your hand dismissing some of the panic when you see it’s only 4:30. He hasn’t texted, which means he hasn’t canceled.

You remember from his stream last week that he maintains a tempered persona, never giving too much or too little away to his viewers. He’d exuded such self control. Is he always like that? 

You know he mostly keeps it together at work, but that amount of restraint shocks you. You’re always wondering what it is that will make him snap. Sure, you’ve seen him annoyed, or occasionally yelling at your coworkers, but never rageful. Never out of control. That just isn’t Seokjin. 

Determined to keep your hands busy while you wait for him to arrive, you busy yourself tidying, though your apartment is scarily clear because you’ve been frantically cleaning all day. You walk into the kitchen, a small, narrow room that has never been very welcoming as a cooking space. Your old, banged up fridge has dents from where the door has opened too quickly and rocketed into the oven handle, leaving a jagged, metal scar on the surface.

When you’d first moved in, you didn’t understand how something could be so damaged, but within the first week, it became apparent how heavy and quickly the door swung into it, probably because the floors, and thus everything else, doesn’t sit exactly level in the space, meaning that everything that you bake comes out at an angle, and everything else always falls to one side of the pan, making things uneven. Every time you use your rolling pin, you have to place it on an oven mitt or else you risk it rolling into the large gap between the countertop and the wall. 

Your apartment is one that you’ve done your best to uplift. While your kitchen is somewhat of a hellhole, with a buzzing fluorescent light that sounds almost like it’s mocking you when you dare to cook anything in it, the rest of your space has some sense of charm to it. 

There’s a large window facing the back parking lot of the building, which some may find less exciting because it isn’t exuding some Instagram-worthy backdrop of urban living, but you benefit from the fact that there’s a large, undeveloped lot in your view, with some plum trees that will bloom in the next few weeks, and the soft chartreuse green that ushers in the early spring grasses is slowly starting to brighten in hue. 

Some summer nights, you crack your window and hear the loud chattering of cicadas and birds as they rustle through the trees, and it helps to distract from the usual traffic noises that ricochet off the other buildings around you. 

You have some small herbs growing on the windowsill, as well as some salvaged green onion ends you’d tossed into an empty yogurt pot with soil and let take off. A sad excuse for a dining table is propped against it with two mismatched chairs. 

An oversized, well-loved, brown couch you got for a steal from one of those local posting groups takes up a large chunk of your living room, which will probably have to be sawed in half to get out of your space if you ever move. It weighs a ton and you can’t even shuffle it into a better angle toward your television, which has resulted in one side of the couch being further worn-down and frumpy from the creases of you sitting in the same spot day after day. The other side usually houses a variety of character plushies and a large pink knit blanket you swaddle yourself in regularly. Today, everything is given a place, and the blanket is folded and resting on the back of the couch. 

The rest of your apartment is a collection of stuff: some mismatched bookshelves shoved into one corner with all your smutty reads and figurines, postcards and repurposed mailers you’ve collaged into some type of wall art, and Barry, your Big Mouth Bass that knows one song and one song only: “Take Me to the River”. 

Due to your lack of space in your cozy apartment, your desk and gaming set-up are in your room. During streams, you tote out a collapsible green screen to give yourself at least some privacy, but behind the screen is your bed you’ve cluttered with some throw pillows, a dresser whose drawers are so warped they don’t fully close, the nightstand which hides your collection of sex toys, and that’s about it. As the months have progressed, your schoolwork has moved from being the main event on the desk to now being crammed into the shallow drawers beneath. Beyond that, your PC and streaming supplies take up the rest of the space in your room. 

After fussing with everything for a whole ten minutes, you retreat from your bedroom, heading into the hellscape kitchen to stare at the groceries you’ve just bought. 

A jar of kimchi, some beets, and a comically large bag of carrots you impulse bought greet you. You sigh. Yes, this is what you’ll have to do to make time pass. Pulling the items from the fridge, you shuffle around to gather your cutting board from its slot next to the microwave, and find your good knife set in the drawer. 

One of the conditions you were given upon being hired at the restaurant was to purchase your own set of knives. “It teaches you how to respect the tools before you. Having pride in your knives ensures you’ll serve food with pride,” Mr. Kim had told you. 

When you shared that knowledge with Seokjin he snorted. “It ensures you’ll not damage our own knives that he’s too cheap to replace is what he means.” 

Regardless, you now own a decent quality set of cutting knives, perfect for what you need them for. You scrub and lightly peel the carrots to trim away the dirt and uneven shapes adorning the outside.

Then, you begin your setup, placing your cutting board with a kitchen towel near the end to catch any rollaway carrots you’re bound to encounter during your task. You snag a large bowl, a rubber jar grip to keep the cutting board in place, and your Chef’s knife from your knife set. You chop up the kimchi and beets, doing a tiny bit of prep by cutting those for later in the week. Then, you begin with the carrots. 

You pull from the washed pile and grip your knife, and remember what Seokjin taught you: cut the rounded edge off the carrot so it sits flat on the board. You slice again, then again, stacking the pieces before cutting in the next direction until a pile of neat matchsticks lay before you. 

No chaos erupting in the kitchen, no pieces flinging to the floor or a semi-concussion. Just you, the yellow glow of the humming light, and your carrots. You begin the next one. Then again. It’s almost addicting, like the affirmation that you are capable of this, of anything, has started to warm something inside of you. 

When was the last time you felt this confident and assured? Felt like you were growing in the right direction? In school, you were used to doing fairly well and understanding the material, but this is different somehow. This is you seeing the results as they pile higher into the bowl. You reach for another and another, washing the rest of the carrots and scrubbing them before continuing. Your hands are now properly stained, the beet juice, gochugaru, and carrot juice making your hands look like you are bleeding, but you don’t care. The ache from your grip, the loud thumping at the door, they don’t mean anything in this moment when it’s you feeling the give of the vegetable as it splits into finer pieces. 

“Y/N?!! HELLO ARE YOU OKAY?” 

A familiar voice bellows from the hall, another sharp thunk hitting the metal door. Seokjin. 

Your eyes rip to the clock on the oven. It’s already five minutes past six. You’ve been cutting carrots for about an hour. 

Hastily, you rinse your hands, ignoring the sting as the cold water spurts from the faucet. You grab the kitchen towel off the oven handle, and rush to the door.

You barely have it unlocked before Seokjin barges in, two large pizza boxes and a six pack of beer in his hands as he steps over the threshold. He smells faintly of mint and eucalyptus. 

Seokjin whips in your direction, scanning his eyes over your face and down your body. 

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” His eyes are wide, his pupils blown out as he fervently looks you up and down, gasping as he takes in your hands. “What happened?”

“What? No, no I’m fine!” You hold one hand up in his direction, taking the kitchen towel and rubbing it into your palm for good measure. “They’re stained. Um, I was cutting vegetables.”

His eyes flit to the direction of the kitchen, where the light is still on and buzzing, and you can just make out the chopping board on the counter. Now assured you’re not injured, Seokjin recovers, stepping out of his shoes and padding into the kitchen.

“Whoa, you really were going to town in here with the carrots weren’t you? I thought I could smell it on you.” 

Your cheeks flood with heat. “Well, you said I had to practice.” 

Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head in amusement before holding up the six pack. “Uh, I brought beer. I don’t know if you like it or not but I feel like it goes really well with pizza.” 

You smile. “I’m not sure if getting me wasted is the solution to setting boundaries with my stream. Doesn’t alcohol lower your inhibitions?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you planning on finishing off this entire six pack by yourself and getting trashed? Much less beer that is…” He squints at the packaging. “...four percent alcohol?” 

You laugh. “No, I suppose not. Thank you.” You take the case from his hands and pluck two bottles from the cardboard before putting the rest in the fridge. Holding the cold bottle in your hands, you grimace. 

“What’s wrong? Do you not like this brand?” Seokjin asks. 

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that. Um, I don’t really drink often so I don’t actually own a bottle opener.” 

Seokjin frowns and looks around your kitchen, grazing his hand along the chipped laminate counters. Then he takes the bottle in his hand and whacks it down on the counter edge on an angle. The cap pops off, a subtle wisp of fog puffing from the top. He smirks, proud. He gestures for you to hand him your bottle. 

With ease, he pops off the second cap and deposits it back into your hands. 

Your jaw hangs slack. “Wh-how did you do that?” you ask. 

He chuckles. “There’s a science to it, angles. I’m just glad I didn’t take a chunk of the counter with me. I’ve done that before.” 

“And you risked my counter top just now?” 

He snorts. “Come on, did anything happen? A little bit of trust would be nice, Y/N.” He glances at the giant bowl of cut carrots. “Well, you’ve certainly improved. What are you going to make with all those?” 

You pull your lips into a thin line. You hadn’t thought about it. Your silence seems to tip Seokjin off to that as well, because after a sip of beer, he sets his bottle on the back end of the counter, rolling up his sleeves and scooting over to the sink to wash his hands. 

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“Cooking,” he replies simply. “Do you have flour? Green onions?” 

You nod. “Okay, get those. I’ll also need some soybean paste if you have it, vegetable oil, salt, and sugar.” 

You furrow your brows. You know this recipe from the restaurant. “You’re making jeon? But, we already have pizza.” 

“We can have the pizza as an appetizer. Jeon will be the main course.”  

You laugh. “How much do you think I eat?” 

“Not much. But you see, I am very hungry.” Heat shoots to your core. You glance over at Seokjin, who is looking at you amused as he squeezes the carrots between his hands to wring out the excess juice.

You didn’t really notice before, but Seokjin looks effortlessly cool, a loose pink linen button down framing his broad shoulders. He’s left the top two buttons undone, exposing the white t-shirt he wears underneath. Lighter wash jeans cover his strong thighs. If a stranger ever passed him on the street, they might think he’s too cool for them, too serious or vain.

But, there are notes of him everywhere in this outfit that suggests the break in the persona. One of the buttons in the middle of his shirt has popped open, a few hairs on the back of his head are cowlicked out of place, and on his feet are a pair of neon green Chikorita Pokemon socks. You find it impossible to hide your amusement. 

“Ah, got it. Nice socks by the way,” you joke, trying to distract from the singing heat and close proximity. You can’t help but think about the last time you and Seokjin were in such confined spaces and how that ended up. “Didn’t know you were going to use your feet later to guide an airplane into landing.” 

“Well, I figured it was a necessary backup in case your hands weren’t bright enough.” He nods toward you. You laugh. 

“Touché.” 

You open your upper cabinet. The paper bag of flour sits on the middle shelf, which you usually climb onto the counter to reach, but with Seokjin in the kitchen, there’s even less space than usual. You stretch, lifting onto your tiptoes. Your fingertips brush the bag, but it’s not enough to move it. As you try to angle yourself better, you see two large hands come above yours, Seokjin easily grabbing the flour off the shelf to set down onto the counter. 

You feel his body heat behind you, his shirt brushing the small of your back from where your own rode up during your stretch, and a swell of goosebumps rise on your arms from the gentle tickle. 

“There,” Seokjin says softly into your ear, almost breathless. “Don’t want to have any more kitchen related incidents, do we?” Too soon, he moves away, his warmth, the subtle note of his cologne fading into the smell of the green onions he’s set next to your not-so-glorious prep space. 

Suddenly, he scoffs. You turn toward him. “What?”

“Really, Y/N? Have you learned nothing?” The heat in your core immediately dissipates, welcoming a familiar sour stroke of shame as you try to put together what you’ve missed. How did you fuck this up? What haven’t you learned? When you focus on what he’s pointing at, you realize he isn’t angry. He’s teasing you. 

Your knife is unsheathed on the cutting board, abandoned in your haste to let him in. “When are you ever going to learn basic kitchen safety?” he laughs. The prick of embarrassment dissolves, Seokjin’s laugh soothing the ache.

You smile and shrug. “In my defense, I didn’t have the time to put it away or in the sink because you were disturbing the peace by practically breaking my door down.” 

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Well excuse me for wanting to ensure your safety. Now where’s that soybean paste?”

Seokjin had been sitting on, or practically in your couch for the last twenty minutes as you ran through various scenarios and questions you were likely to experience while streaming. Your old couch was comfy, but as you’d practiced longer, he felt he was shrinking, the cushions settling further and further down. That, he thought, was probably going to hurt to climb out when the time came. 

Despite the size and outdated condition your apartment was in, he was fascinated with how you’d chosen to decorate it, as if everything had its own place. You had an impressive collection of colorful books on a bookshelf, framed in with little knick-knacks and figurines of your favorite characters or collectibles. One large sunny window was decorated with stickers that acted as prisms, sending rainbow beams across your floor at a certain point in the day. A photo of a very young you and two people he assumed were your parents leaning against a guard rail over a canyon was framed and hung next to a giant plastic fish. 

No, you didn’t have much. It was clear you’d thrifted or trash picked most of the furniture in your apartment, with the exception of your computer setup. You’d taken him into your bedroom to show him what system you used, how you’d built your system based on the specifications of your mod, who Seokjin now knew, was also your best friend Wonwoo. 

But Seokjin couldn’t help but revel in how well cared for and cozy this small place was, so different from the cold floors of his own apartment. It reminded him of the tiny place he used to live in with his parents. It was familiar, safe. 

When he’d come in, he did worry something was wrong. You weren’t one to not answer, attentive in the restaurant to everyone, often whipping your head in someone’s direction the second you heard the first sound of your name slip through someone’s lips. When you didn’t answer, he’d wondered if you’d been injured or worse. As much as he tried not to judge your building, he was a little concerned about the safety precautions put in place. He’d walked straight in, no lock on the front door, no door man. Everyone’s names were blatantly listed on their mailboxes. If anyone wanted to find you, it wouldn’t be hard to do so. 

But you were fine, and the acrid worry that had bloomed in him during those five minutes of you not answering had dissolved once he saw your bright smile, and the even brighter colored stains on your hands. 

They were still blotchy, though a few runs under the sink with dish soap was helping them fade. As you feathered a hand through your hair, he found himself grinning. The fact that you had acquired a bulk bag of carrots and used them for practice was so endearing to him. He never doubted your dedication to work, but the fact that you were using the techniques he taught you in your kitchen had brightened something in Seokjin he hadn’t even known felt dark. 

And he also couldn’t ignore the sense of pride he had as you practically moaned into the jeon you two had made together, the crispy texture and roll of hot oil over your tongue invoking something in you Seokjin couldn’t help but be drawn to. You loved to eat. It was one of the first things he noticed about you, and as creepy as it sounded, also what stoked those first wisps of attraction. 

You loved food the way he did, without care, or at least without care the way most people who he was raised around cared. No, you didn’t eat a lot, but when you did, you were all in, bare hands sticky after eating peaches, their juice dribbling down your chin and forearms, joyful hums when you bit into your favorite crunchy snacks from the convenience store. 

He remembered growing up the ways in which women, even his mother, were almost afraid of food, afraid of how they would spend hours in the kitchen making heaps of it, pounds of fresh kimchi, grilled fish, decadent soups with tofu and mushrooms and packets of ramyeon, and yet when it was time to eat, they were too busy too or suddenly not hungry, or they would eat a few bites and excuse themselves from the table to clean up. 

It was sad, really. Because Seokjin ate and ate fully, and maybe because he wasn’t a woman he didn’t need to worry about his body that way, or maybe because he always had some insane metabolism that didn’t impose weight like it did with others, but it never hit him the same. He loved food. 

And clearly so did you, delighted in the meal he gave you, even eliciting a groan as you washed down a bite with your beer. It was like you were grateful for every bite of food that ever entered your mouth.

“You were right. This does taste better together,” you said. He was practically beaming. 

He glanced down at the pile of jeon. They weren’t bad, but they were a little uneven. While cooking, he’d noticed that something was a bit off about your kitchen. Your oven and everything else were a bit titled, and it pooled the jeon batter toward one end, making them thicker on one side and harder to cook properly. Your fridge door also was dented, having the similar issue of the weight pushing things to one side. He made a mental note to shove some cardboard under the floor pegs later to help level the appliances. 

Your counter situation, though, he couldn’t help. You would just have to keep with your barricade at the end to avoid rolling. But you seemed to be savvy in how you solved the various erroneous features of your apartment, making the best of what you had. 

In fact, as Seokjin sat in the crook of your massive couch, he noticed why this side was so sunken; it was the only spot you could actually see the TV from this angle. He wondered if he could shuffle it a little bit more in a better view while you were streaming later, or if you would even notice. 

You hovered next to the couch, your bottom lip worried between your teeth. You were nervous about something. 

“What is it?” He asked. The time for your stream was growing nearer, and he’d promised he would stay for at least the first half, setting up his laptop in your living room. 

“What am I doing?” you groaned and flopped down on the floor, a frustrated wail muffling into the carpet. 

“Testing yourself and growing. Listen, Y/N, you know you don’t have to do this, but we’ve been over it daily at this point. You want more money and this is what you’ve decided is the most viable option. After-Dark type streams do make a lot more money, you want to exercise more freedom with yourself, do I need to go on?” 

You shook your head. Seokjin chuckled. 

“Okay, so–yah, sit up!” You bolted off the carpet and folded your legs underneath you. 

“So, you know I’m going to be out here if you need anything. If you need me, I’m just on the other side of that door. Also, we’ve been practicing, right?”

“I know, I just…I’m not like you. I’m not confident, I’m not really easygoing or likable like you are. I can’t dom–command a room or everyone’s attention with my charisma how you can. I’m worried that if I don’t give people what they ask for, they’re just going to leave.”

Seokjin scoffed. He knew that on the outside, in the context of work that you were used to seeing him in, he appeared in charge and control at all times. It was part of the job, to be well tempered and fair and even, maintain a sense of friendliness but firmness, it was common sense. But much of his advice today wasn’t coming from that version of him you knew. A lot of this was insight and experience he’d gained as Jin, who he needed to be to ensure he was meeting his tip goals, or needing to remind everyone he was the one in charge, not them. 

Even at work last week, when Seokjin needed to call the distributor because there was some issue with a shipment of produce, it was Jin he was channeling to make the call. If it were Seokjin, he would have been a sweaty, nervous mess. Jin was business, Jin was the one who laid down the law. Seokjin himself? 

He was the youngest Kim son, the one who, when his parents’ friends and family members thought he wasn’t listening, gossiped about. Why wasn’t he married? Didn’t he have that fiancée for a while? Oh she had a baby with another man? His boss? Well surely that has been long enough now, right? He had another girlfriend, or found some other salaryman career. At 30, it would be kind of sad if his life wasn’t going anywhere. 

And that’s where Seokjin was, after all. Single, a sex worker, or temporary restaurant manager. This morning he’d received a text in the family group chat from his brother with a photo of his nephew kissing his sister-in-law’s bump. He loved his nephew, he loved his brother and was happy for their little family. But he also felt hollow as he opened that picture, like some part of him knew he was never going to truly get to have that for himself. 

“Hey,” he said, and your eyes flitted from the floor back to him. “First of all, if they leave they leave, right? Those aren’t the people you want to be on your streams because their energy sucks and they’ll just keep asking more of you. Second,” he cleared his throat, “you are likable. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, having viewers and subscribers. There has to be a part of you that is genuine there, otherwise everyone will know you’re lying and move away from you. Don’t they say something about how all the best lies are rooted in truth?” 

“But I’m not trying to lie to them,” you said meekly. 

Seokjin internally kicked himself for saying that. Perhaps suggesting that you lie to everyone wasn’t the best move. 

“I know, I mean, that you don’t offer all of yourself, but offer the parts of you that you know are there that are stable. And for the rest of it, fake it until you make it. Until you can feel confident as a streamer, able to set boundaries. Pretend you’re someone else. The person you want to be.” he amended. 

Jin was some of the best parts of Seokjin. Maybe even better. Self-assured, knowledgeable about sex and sexuality in ways he hadn’t been when he was with Soon Yi, he could say no to things he’d never been able to say no to his boss about, and things he couldn’t say no to now because the restaurant wasn’t technically his. There were things he could do, ways he could slip some power in there or make decisions, but nothing was really his. Not the way streaming was. That was all for him. And while yes, his friends knew he did it and supported him in their own way (thankfully most of them did not tune in but on occasion Jungkook and Taehyung would hop on when completely wasted to goad him to “release the beast”), it was still a success that couldn’t be shared publicly, even though he didn’t really want to share it anyway, and didn’t really feel successful. 

“Is that what you did? Faked it until you made it? Until you were the person you wanted to be?” 

His blood ran cold. Were you reading his thoughts? Did you know? 

“W-what?” 

Oh god, what if you knew? Seokjin would rush out into the night and dig his own grave. Because if anyone else knew what he did, if his parents found out or his brother or you, he was sure he would become the worst parts of himself. A failure again. Once more someone to be quietly gossiped about in rooms when he was in full range of hearing what they had to say. He couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating than you seeing him, your own boss, with a bright pink dildo shoved up his ass as he pandered to thousands of people with whimpers and cries. Especially when he just spent the better half of an hour telling you that you didn’t need to pander to anyone. 

Would you think less of him for it? Would you ask him why he was doing gay streaming of all things? His face flushed, probably turning incredibly red with embarrassment. 

“With the restaurant,” you said. 

He swallowed the thick lump that had formed in his throat and coughed. 

“Y-yes,” he stammered. “What you see there. It’s not really me all the time. I’m not always all that confident. But I want to be.” 

You nodded quietly and stretched your arms over your head. “That makes sense,” you said as you began to pace. “Okay.” 

You still had another two hours before your stream was set to start, and Seokjin could tell you were still on edge. He took a deep breath when you turned away, letting the rush of air into his lungs help cool his face.  

“Seokjin?” you asked.

“Yeah?” 

“Will you stay until it’s over? I know it’ll be late, and it’s a big ask, but maybe we can eat leftover pizza and debrief?” 

He smiled. “Of course.” 

He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his night, and probably early morning if he was honest. Your streams could go well into the wee hours of the morning, and while tomorrow while opening he’d probably be kicking himself for this, right now he didn’t care about anything except the warm tug he felt in his chest as he imagined the two of you sitting on the floor with cold pizza and laughter at 3a.m. 

“Thank you. Also, do you think we could have another beer or something? I need to take the edge off. I know I’m overthinking it but I need something to distract me before this stream or I might not show up.” 

You didn’t wait for his permission, probably because you weren’t asking for it. You slid into the kitchen and back out with two more cold beers. 

“Will you show me how to open these again? I want to try.” 

Seokjin struggled a bit against the dip of your couch, but eventually found himself level and close to you, so close in fact that the soft scent of your shampoo was once again permeating his nostrils. 

You were intoxicating to him, honestly, and he found himself unable to help himself as he squeezed behind you in your tiny kitchen, inhaling partially into your hair as he walked you through the process. 

You fiddled with the bottle for a second, holding yourself at an awkward angle. 

“Like this?” 

If you did it at this angle, you would be sure to cause the beer to explode, the cap wouldn’t get enough traction to pop off easily. 

“Not unless you want to participate in a wet t-shirt contest,” he joked before he even realized how sexually charged that comment was. 

You inhaled a little sharply. 

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, you’re a little stiff here.” Then, very carefully, he rested his hands onto your hips, gently maneuvering you so you were able to prop your arm up and out of his way so you wouldn’t elbow him in the ribs when you slammed the bottle down. 

He kind of hated himself when he had to let go of your waist. His fingers were tingling simply from brushing them along the seam of your shirt, from feeling the warm curve of your hip under his fingers. Why did his hands feel so at home on your body?

Your sharp movement pushed him out of his reverie as you launched the bottle down onto the counter top, the soft plink and your sparkling eyes confirming you were successful. 

That’s my girl, he thought. Only you weren’t his girl. You couldn’t be further from his. And as soon as he thought it, he also felt the soft ache in his chest knowing that you would probably never be his. Because you couldn’t. Because you were without a doubt too good for him, and Seokjin knew all that stood between you and the right guy was time. An opportunity. You walk into the right place some day and then boom, there he will be. 

He fucking hated that guy already. 

You popped the second cap from the bottle and turned around, shoving your body directly into him as you beamed with pride. “See! I did it!” You looked so adorable, your eyelashes long and fluttering as you gazed up at him. 

A smile cracked through his gloom. You were like a little sunbeam to him. 

“You did,” he acknowledged, and he took the bottle you offered, taking a swig. He waited for you to make the next move, to dislodge your body from the cramped corner of the kitchen, for the magnetic pull of your body to signal it was too close, too intimate so one of you would break away. 

But neither of you did. In fact you sighed and moved closer to him, forcing the small of Seokjin’s back to rest up against the handle bar of the oven. It wasn’t comfortable at all, but he didn’t dare move. 

“Can I ask you something?” You asked quietly after a while, staring down at the bottle. 

“Sure,” he responded. 

You nibbled your bottom lip then sighed again, unsure. He felt your warm exhale hit his forearms. Did you really not realize how close you were to him? The smell of you, even that tiny hit of beer breath, was starting to drive him insane. 

You shifted yourself even closer. 

“Um, it’s going to sound embarrassing to ask this but I just have to.” 

Your voice was low now, a tiny whisper coming out of you. Fuck, you were perfect. 

“Go ahead,” he whispered back, smirking. “I won’t judge you.”

“Okay, um. Are you…are you bi?” 

“Am I by what?” 

You fidgeted uncomfortably and pulled back slightly. You raised your eyebrows. 

“No, not by as in near, I mean bi as in like, you know, bisexual?” You shifted your gaze away, and then Seokjin felt the question sink in. 

He was such a fucking idiot. 

God, this is one of the most awkward interactions you’ve ever had in your life and you feel yourself getting hotter and more embarrassed by the second.

Standing in your tiny cramped kitchen, you decided now for no good reason was the best time to ask Seokjin if he’s bisexual. Or really if he’s gay. Because you need to know. Need answers. Or a confirmation that will help kill this crush for good because as of tonight? It’s much, much worse. 

Something about watching him cook earlier, specifically in your kitchen, did something to you. The way he touched your hips to show you how to do that beer opening trick, how he looked slumped into your couch, the way he hovered over your bookshelves and belongings with curiosity, and laughed hysterically over Barry once he pressed the button. 

He fits here. In your apartment. It isn’t just some stupid fantasy version of him you could imagine. He is real and beautiful and fits into this corner of your life like a perfect puzzle piece. 

And if he’s gay, if there’s no chance that he can give you even the fantasy of this, then it all needs to stop. But it’s also so unfair for you to ask this of him. What if he’s not out? What if you’re forcing him to come out and no one knows and all because your insatiable horniness led you to a gay streaming site where you found him now his livelihood and privacy are technically in jeopardy?

Fuck. You can’t do that to him. And suddenly you’re aware of what you just did, how uncool this was for you to just out and ask. Heat claws into your throat as you sit in this shock of silence, clamping down on your airway and leaving your voice in a reedy wheeze as you try to take back your inquiry.

“I–I’m sorry, you don’t need to answer! I’m out of line. Really, I shouldn’t have even asked. Jesus, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you splutter, heart beating erratically, a line of perspiration beginning to form at the back of your neck at an insane speed. How humiliating. 

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay. Relax. Breathe,” Seokjin says. You force a ragged inhale but find yourself coughing, gasping to try to find air in this room that is too small and a million degrees warmer. 

You are standing in the hallway outside of the bathroom, rasping for air into your lungs. Your mother has just come home from work, shouting about how you haven’t remembered to take the chicken out of the freezer or done any of the chores she’d asked you to while she was gone. 

The day has gotten away from you, a hot summer that is so oppressive no one even wants to go outside. You would get all she asked of you done and more before she returned home. The chicken would be thawed, you’d vacuum and mop the floors, would even wipe down the bathroom sink from all the hair she and your father left in it during his morning shave. 

And then you would go to your friend’s house tonight, for the sleepover you’ve been dreaming of, eat lots of candy that her father would bring home from work that yours never let you have. You could tell her about the boy whose parents own the convenience store at the end of the street, and how all summer you’ve been finding an excuse to run up to the shop with your allowance to get a pack of gum or snacks or a can of iced tea you would have to chug outside before you even walked home anyway. 

You start junior high this fall. Your period started this spring. Everything around you is changing. Your legs are stocky and getting fuller. Hair is starting to grow everywhere. Your breasts are no longer flat on your chest and while you know all of this is happening, you know why and what is going to happen, that doesn’t change how awful all this feels. Your baby fat isn’t baby fat anymore, and the oils of your skin, your hair, your smell? It all is changing so fast and you hate it. You want to hide. And at least having this boy down the street to talk to, Wonwoo, who makes you feel less like you want to crawl outside of yourself. 

Him, and all the books you’ve been reading. Ones where they’re older, girls who you’ll be like soon. Who go to school, and date and have families with problems just like your family has problems. Who run into the woods and fall in love with other families. Who find belonging. There’s comfort there, and that’s why despite all your promises to make the house clean for your mom this morning, you forgot. Because you’d fallen into the world of your book. 

And now, your mother has told you that you can’t go to your sleepover anymore. Can’t get away from the house and the heat and your body and the ongoing argument you know your parents are having about finances that they shout about when you’re in the shower and they think you can’t hear them. You can’t eat fun secret snacks or talk about boys or pretend for a second that this isn’t your life. Because it is.  

Your throat closes up, the dim lights of the hallway outside the bathroom feel like they’re flickering. 

“I told you. I reminded you multiple times! Now we don’t have dinner. Unless you’d like to think of something?” She strips off her stockings, balling them up in her fist. “Unless you want to go out there and buy some expensive meal for us tonight?” 

Shame. This is it in its purest form. How wrong you are for not helping. For spending the whole day in your fantasy world with your new friends, ones who aren’t real. All your mother asked for was such simple things, and yet you are unable to just do what she asks. 

“When your father gets home, you can tell him why there’s no dinner ready.” 

Hot tears sting your eyes and you gasp for air. Your father? If he’s having a hard day today, if his boss or his co-workers didn’t recognize him for that presentation he spent all those late nights at the dinner table preparing, you know how this will end. Your father is a fair man, but even he has his limits. 

And sometimes that means that the things you love, the things that you covet, they go missing. Precious dolls that you’ve had over the years have disappeared when you were being careless with them, leaving them around in the hallway for him to step on. Once,  you left your birthday gift from your aunt, a purple Skip-It, on the sidewalk during a Spring rain shower and when you went to bring it in, it had vanished. 

You’d found it in the garbage bin, the ankle loop and cord snapped into pieces. 

When your father gets home, he’ll go for your book. He knows just which one it is. You had started it last night and he asked you about it. 

You push off the wall of the hallway, swallowing the bile down your throat. You have to hide it, to take it somewhere. 

You want to leave. Your eyes dart around the room. Anywhere but here, you can’t let him see how much more embarrassing it is now that he knows you’re anxious. A lump in your throat continues to constrain the air. You can feel your pulse in it, pulling acid up from the depths of your stomach. 

You rip another breath from your chest and try to propel yourself across the room, across the universe, but your feet won’t budge. Your muscles are locked in this bump of panic, leaden and unyielding. 

Somewhere in the fuzziness, Seokjin has moved but already returned, and you feel a set of cool hands on your cheeks as he comes into focus, gently stroking behind your ears and saying something to you. 

“–ow that it’s hard but I need you to breathe, Y/N. Breathe with me. Can you do that?”

His face is concerned, and it twists your stomach even further. He shouldn’t be doing this. You should remember how to fucking breathe on your own. But then again, isn’t that why he’s here anyway? Because you can’t do shit on your own? Can’t hold boundaries, can’t stay in school or keep it together. Can’t live somewhere nicer where you don’t smell the stomach-turning stench of the sink’s old plumbing next to you, metallic and stale. And definitely can’t even remember how to mind your business or breathe like a person. 

You rush down the hall, into the living room, snapping the book off the couch. You shove it behind a cushion. 

Your father walks in the door, and from the look on his face, you can tell the presentation didn’t go well. 

“What’s all this?” he snaps, and gestures to the left-out vacuum and the bucket of water you’d gathered earlier. All the bubbles from the soap have long popped, leaving a heavy, sickening floral scent in the room from the solution. 

“I, oh–”

“Your daughter spent all day reading instead of doing her chores. So unless you have a McDonald’s hamburger in your briefcase, we have nothing for dinner.” Your mother interjects, huffing as she heads into your parents bedroom and slams the door behind her.  

Your father’s eyes narrow, and this is how it begins. He and your mother slamming, stomping, hitting, and crashing in every interaction they have with an inanimate object around you.

He chucks his suitcase onto the table of the small dining area, then whips open the fridge door a few feet away. 

“Y/N, come here.” 

You tiptoe in behind him, needing desperately to do the opposite of him, to show that you aren’t mad that they’re mad. That you understand exactly what you did wrong. 

But it doesn’t matter, does it? They’re going to show you anyway. He moves aside and you peer into the fridge. 

“What do you see in there?” he asks, restrained. 

“Um, some celery, lettuce, dressing, milk…”

He growls, indicating that this isn’t the right answer. You’re wrong again. “Food, Y/N. This is food. That your mother and I work hard to put on the table so you can sit around and read your books. Food that needs to be eaten. Do you understand?” 

You say nothing. You know the question is rhetorical. 

“So, when we ask so little of you to simply take the food out of the freezer or fridge and thaw it, how can it be so hard? Hm? Here let me show you.” 

He reaches in, and begins pulling and pulling the veggies, marinades, dressings, milk, eggs, cheeses and meats, and crowding the counter top. You’re frozen, unable to walk away, to ask him to stop. 

When he’s done, he looks at you. 

“See? Not so hard, huh? And if you were helpful to us, none of this would have happened. Honestly, your selfishness sometimes,” he says. “Now, go get me that book of yours. I think you know you haven’t earned it right now.” 

You should go peel it out from under the couch cushions. Should hand it to him, then put all the groceries back away, because you know he’s not going to do it with you here. You should apologize. Accept punishment.

But instead, you’re nauseous and shaking and sobbing. 

He waits expectedly. And then he shoves past you to your room, beginning to hunt through your clothes on the floor, under your bed. 

“Where is it Y/N?” 

You don’t follow him. Instead, you run. You grab the book from behind the cushion, shove your shoes onto your feet and run into the heat of the ending day with it in your hands, the heat from the sidewalk still boiling up underneath you. 

Your parents don’t run out the door or into the street behind you. They stay in your home, possibly putting it back together. But you don’t care. You run, until you see the light of the convenience store and your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse. 

Inside the cool air, Wonwoo is helping his father place drinks from their crates into the refrigerator. His eyes are wide as you plow in. 

You have so much you want to tell him, so much worry in your chest. Your cheeks are hot and your body is sweaty. Nothing is coming out. Just the hum of the fridges, and Wonwoo’s father rushing to get his mother. 

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks, and you can’t do anything to answer, just stare at his soft face as you well up with tears. You shove the book toward him wordlessly. 

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asks again, and you inhale steeply but choke on the air. A bubble of saliva clods your tongue. 

“Please, take this. Hide it,” you urge. He holds his hands out and takes the book. 

“Um, okay. Tuck Everlasting, I’ve never read this one.” He looks back up at you and winces. 

“Hey, hey, breathe Y/N. You need to breathe.” 

Seokjin is standing in front of you, coaxing breaths from you, wasting his time after cooking you dinner like it’s something you deserve. Like you’re not just doing all of this anyway because you can’t control yourself to not have feelings for him. Tears singe your eyes and you gasp another shallow breath. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I promise I’m not mad.” Seokjin breaks through your thoughts, his voice gentle, and almost like he hears you in this silent exchange, some constant that is numbing this spiral. You feel yourself inhale a little more fully as you understand he’s not upset or annoyed. “Good, you’re doing good. Let’s breathe another breath, okay?” 

You can’t look away. Even if you wanted to, Seokjin’s touch is keeping you focused completely on him, his soft and kind eyes, his plush lips that he’s holding in a slight frown that won’t shake. One that you can tell is worry. 

“Another breath, sweetheart. Good, good girl. That’s really good, Y/N. Okay, keep doing that for a second okay?” One hand releases from your cheek, and you find yourself pressing harder into the other, needing him to touch you and keep guiding you back, needing that security of him. 

He doesn’t move it away, in fact he pushes himself closer, holds the weight of you in his palm tenderly, and then you see in your periphery what he moved to get: a glass of water. 

“I want you to take three small sips of this for me, okay? Slowly.” He holds the rim of the cup up to your lips, tilting it slightly. You open your mouth slightly, letting a trickle of cold water flood into the hot cavern of your mouth, extinguishing so much of the tight, fiery panic that moves through the rest of your body. 

You do as he says, sipping and swallowing slowly until he pulls the glass away and sets it down behind you. 

“You with me?” he whispers, and you breathe. 

“Yes,” you say. 

“Can I touch your arm?”

You’re not sure why he’s asking, so you knit your brow and gaze up at him, confused. 

“What?”

“Can I touch your arm? I want to move us out of the kitchen and into your bedroom if that’s okay?” His voice is still quiet, and you realize that the hum of the light is so loud it’s almost drowning him out, almost drowning you again. 

Your eyes flash wide and you nod. You see him relax a little, and slowly Seokjin untangles the web of your bodies away from the kitchen, into the cool air of your living room. Why is it so cold? 

Seokjin guides you through it, and through the doorway to your bedroom. Before you even realize it, he’s unbuttoning his pink shirt and draping it over you. 

“Is this okay? You’re shaking.” 

You go to tell him yes, of course it’s okay, and then notice your teeth are gritted tight from trying not to chatter. 

You take another breath. “Yes,” you squeak. 

He pulls down the duvet and gestures for you to sit. “I’m going to put this blanket on you so I can help you warm up.” You feel the soft, heavy weight and start to feel a little better. But without Seokjin holding you, tethering you back into your body, you feel like you might float away any second. You shoot him a panicked look and he seems to understand, drawing the blanket back so he is also swaddled in it, the two of you knee to knee as he pinches the blanket closed with his fist. 

“You can touch me if you’d like,” he says, and this, you realize, is what you need. 

You immediately shift forward, putting your face into his white t-shirt, inhaling that minty, fresh cologne he wears. You can feel his chest rising and falling slowly, evenly, and you match your breathing to his, hoping soon your heartbeat slows to the same rate. Your hands twist into his shirt but it’s not enough. You find one of his hands and take it, lacing your fingers together and resting them in your lap. 

The heaviness is nice, stabilizing, but you know you still need something more. 

“Seokjin?” Your voice sounds foreign to you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Will you hold me for a minute?” 

His hand untangles from yours and he moves to place it around your back, but with you two cross legged and facing each other, it’s an awkward embrace. 

“I’m sorry, this is such a weird position. If you’re okay with it, you can sit in my lap? If you want? And then I can just hold you for a second?” 

You nod and sit up, unfolding your legs and wiggling yourself up so you are on his lap. You wrap your legs around his back, then your arms. And then you feel his arms around you, his fingers lazily tracing the length of your spine. 

You feel yourself sinking deeper back into the safety of your body. 

You both sit like this for a long time. So long that you feel yourself starting to grow hazy and sleepy. Seokjin is warm and soft and so soothing. You feel like you’re untangling from a sharp web that has been trapping you for a long time. And when your alarm for your stream goes off, you turn off your phone. 

“You okay?” Seokjin asks and you huff out a sigh. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry for all the dramatics.” You slide yourself out of his grip and flop back onto your bed, propping yourself up on your elbow. 

“What do you mean? You weren’t being dramatic, Y/N, you had a panic attack.” 

“Yeah, over asking you a highly personal question I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry for that too.” 

“I’m not-it’s-look. Panic attacks aren’t ever just one thing. It’s always a compounding of stress and anxiety and other thoughts and feelings. You just came across the one thought or feeling that forced everything to collapse. And I can guess based on how much you’re apologizing, it was probably you doing that shit inside and beating yourself up that knocked all the rest of this stuff down. I told you, I’m not mad. Or insulted that you asked.” 

He goes on. “Which, by the way, I’m not bi or gay. I’m very straight. But that’s not the point. The point is, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You asked me a question. I have a right to choose to answer it or not. So there’s your answer. And also, you are never dramatic to me. Panic attacks are fucking scary; you felt like you were dying, right?” 

You nod. “Drowning, yeah.” 

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, those things are no joke. But you came out on the other side of it.”

“Not without your help though. You seem like you know a lot about these when they happen. Do you get them too?” 

He flushes. “Uh, no, I don’t personally. My friend Yoongi has them sometimes. He taught me a lot about how to help him with them. The cold water trick really is from him. And then also when Soon Yi and I were together, she would have them, but those were a bit different.” He looks down at his hands. 

Soon Yi. So that’s her. The person Seokjin has often stopped himself talking about. The one who his parents would occasionally refer to as “that woman” during shifts when he wasn’t around. No one ever said her name, almost like she was some kind of curse and you always were curious why. You assumed she must be the devil incarnate the way his mother would sling a bunch of insults after she was mentioned, but the way Seokjin now says her name so casually, so personally, you aren’t entirely sure if he sees her that way. 

Parents usually carry a greater grudge than their child who was hurt. Your own father has told you on various occasions that the guy you dated for one summer in undergrad, who coincidentally is his barber’s nephew, will never be allowed in his house ever again. Forget the fact that there’s no reason he would be invited over in the first place. Whenever you’re catching up with your parents on the phone, if he has recently visited his barber, he’s sure to bring it up. “Scum is never allowed in my house! He will just drag his filth in with him!”

Thinking of your father and mother right now forces you to wince. Maybe it’s the freshness of these memories, of you realizing now that what happened to you that day as a child wasn’t you being dramatic, as they had insisted even after you’d gotten home. Everything had been put back into place when you’d returned after the sunset, even the bucket and vacuums put away. Your parents never apologized or talked about it again. 

And your friend, she didn’t talk to you after that either, claiming you were flaky and rude for blowing her off. 

Your father doesn’t even refer to your ex by name, similar to Seokjin’s mother. “That Woman”. “Scum”. If there was ever a name tied to these people, it’s clearly gone in the haze of whatever angry frenzy your parents carry. “Scum” also didn’t even do anything wrong. You broke things off with him, but because you came home crying after the breakup, now that is his legacy. 

But Seokjin’s mother, how she behaves, you’re not sure that it’s for the same reasons. You’ve seen firsthand how much she adores her children, and “adoration” is a word you aren’t so sure applies to your family.

Soon Yi, too, it’s clear she was not just a blip on the screen in Seokjin’s life. The hushed, angry chatter between his parents, the way his mother would often get so worked up she would start punching her shoulder and clicking her tongue, saying she needed to go sit down. That’s not a Scum-level relationship. You wonder how close she was to Seokjin. Closer than you two are becoming, clearly. 

“Soon Yi,” you repeat to yourself, still lost in the haze of putting things together.

“Um, my ex.” Seokjin says, and you feel heat rise in your cheeks as you realize he heard you. “We were engaged. For a while.” 

“Oh.”

You want to ask how long he means by a while? Did they break up right before you joined the restaurant? Or was this from many years ago? It’s odd in a way to think of how Seokjin has lived a completely different life from the time before you knew him. He loved someone, enough to marry them, to start a life together, to know she had panic attacks and how to help her. 

Did he place her in his lap the same way he did with you? Did he sit with her in the dull winter light of their bedroom and talk like this? 

He had to have. Why wouldn’t he? Your stomach dips. Were you under some impression that this thing you’re experiencing–the closeness of his body, the soft thrum of his heart, that tiny whistle in his throat that breaks through the room as he speaks–would be special?   

The dim light of the lamp on your bedside table makes the deep browns of his eyes look even darker, and he watches you as you stretch your legs out in front of you, your foot shifting a bit to rest up against his thigh. His eyes flicker toward it and then back to you.

“How, when did you guys break up? I didn’t know you were engaged,” you ask gently. He sighs, and then slumps a bit, the careful, rigid posture he was holding for so long finally loosening a bit with his exhale. He bends his knees and pulls his legs up, glancing to the other side of your bed. 

You pat the spot next to you, turning over so he knows it’s no imposition. 

And it’s not, not in the slightest. If you weren’t so fried and exhausted after that panic attack, your brain might try to imbue some innuendo into this moment, but for now, this is all you can do, and you want that ache in your stomach to go away. You want to feel like this is special. 

Seokjin flops down into the pile of oddball plushies and pillows next to you and you snort, smiling as he carefully tucks the plushie he smashed in his landing into his arms. 

“I’m sure my parents have talked about her enough times for you to know everything,” he scoffs. 

“Not really. I didn’t know her name. I just thought she was some girlfriend you had that she hated because she was keeping you away from her. You know, the same way your mother also says that the really old lady down the road who sells flowers keeps your dad away from her.”

He smirks at this, and his fingers rove over the marble eyes of the plushie. 

“My mother would blame the sun if it kept her family away from her. She’s been messaging the group chat nonstop for updates from my hyung’s wife about the pregnancy. And she’s supposed to be somewhere in Iceland right now on a cruise. Honestly I wish she would just enjoy herself.” 

“Well, she cares. About you especially. Which is maybe why she didn’t air all of your business to me when I was mopping the floors and she counted down the drawers. She just would say that I would be better than “That Woman” but I think she might think anyone would be better than her.” 

“She said that to you? Ugh, eomma.”

She did, one late night, when Seokjin left early for “something urgent”. His mother alleged that he was dating a secret new girlfriend that he kept under wraps. 

“Honestly, he acts as if I’m going to eat her alive or something. Tsk. That son of mine, both he and his brother are going to send me to an early grave. Behind my back like this when I’m getting older by the minute. Ever since he and that woman broke up, he shut down. I tried to set him up with someone and he kept saying no! That he would find someone. But if she was any better than the others, wouldn’t he have brought her around by now,” she’d said.  

She slammed some coins back into the register. You jumped at the sound. 

She sighed. “You know what he needs? Someone like you. Someone with vision! That woman never had any of that. So much more focused on status. You’re not like that Y/N. I can tell. And that’s exactly why I hired you. You can’t teach someone that as an adult. They either have it or don’t, and you. You’ve got exactly it.” 

You didn’t really know what “it” was, but you didn’t argue, and soon she moved on to complain about something else. 

Now, knowing Seokjin’s secret, you think you know where he went that night, and it definitely wasn’t to go hide in his lover’s house. Chances were, he was streaming. And that also would explain why he shut down on her so quickly. You can’t imagine Mrs. Kim’s reaction if she found out Seokjin was a gay cam streamer. Despite being straight.  

It dawns on you. You’d been so distracted with that panic attack that you forgot already that Seokjin is in fact interested in women. Solely. Enough to have been engaged to one. 

“But, back to your story,” you prod, trying to distract yourself from the fact that now none of this feels like just friends sharing. Seokjin hisses in some air as if he agrees. 

“Right. Well, Soon Yi and I were together really in college and on. We started dating really young. Just two kids. And then we just kind of stuck together? She and I were together for a long time before I got the nerve to propose. And then…” He trails off, his face now a deeper blush. Is he embarrassed? 

You lick your lips, ready to tell him he doesn’t have to share, but he waves his hand to quiet you. 

“She cheated on me. With my boss. We were in the midst of planning the wedding and everything. I was supposed to get this big promotion at the end of some large conferences. But, I don’t know. We had grown apart. Suddenly we didn’t see eye-to-eye on anything.”

Your jaw drops, caught on that larger detail. “She cheated on you with your boss? After all that time? God, Seokjin, I'm so sorry. That’s awful.”

He smiles and nods. “That’s not even the worst part,” he says. His smile grows bigger, like this is some huge joke. “She cheated on me multiple times with him while I was away. And I caught them. Uh, you know. On my dining room table when I came back early to surprise her. I did not get the promotion by the way. But, she actually has a baby, or I guess a toddler, with him now. I heard she’s pregnant again, they’re married. It’s all some surreal life. And now I’m here.” 

“Um, you’re right, it was worse than that.” You’re really not sure what to say. Seokjin’s becoming harder to read by the second, turning this conversation into some big joke when it’s not really funny to you on your end. Maybe he’s processed it enough by now, but based on how tightly he’s now squeezing your alpaca plushie, you would wager that he doesn’t really find it funny either. 

“Is this,” you take a breath. “Is this why the other night you said you were a failure? Because of what happened with Soon Yi?” 

“Partly. I mean, it’s not like I did too great of a job keeping her satisfied. She clearly found other ways to do that.” He laughs darkly. 

“That’s not how that works you know,” you say. His eyebrows lift. 

“What do you mean?”

“What you just said. Keeping her satisfied. Isn’t it the job of being a human to keep ourselves satisfied? Find things with meaning and joy? It’s not your fault that she chose to do that. To cheat on you, to not be honest when she started feeling differently. She could have told you at any point. Did she?” 

He sighs. “Not really, no. Soon Yi wasn’t great at communicating with me about things like that. For so long, we just knew what the other person needed. Because we’d been together since we were so young, we had come up with some other kind of language. And my friends, too, they were in on it. She was not always going to tell someone how she felt but she would show them. For Jungkook’s 21st birthday she threw him an “American Stereotype” themed birthday which he was always obsessing over from the videos. Bought a bunch of red solo cups, they played that Miley Cyrus song and bought a bunch of discounted Fourth of July partyware. She was one of us.”

Even now, despite everything, Seokjin is speaking so kindly about someone who hurt him. And honestly, it throws you. You are so used to the men you’ve been around talking so poorly of their exes that you didn’t know someone could experience such a negative thing and not immediately resort to extreme name calling. 

That’s just how good Seokjin is. Enough to not be mad at you for asking questions, for panicking. Enough to speak kindly about others even if it might be eating at him. 

“That doesn’t mean it was your fault though,” you stifle a yawn. He cocks an eyebrow. 

“Maybe we should shelve this conversation for another time,” he says. 

“No, no, I want to hear. I want to know all of it.”

“You were supposed to start your scheduled stream an hour ago.” 

“Change of plans. I’m not streaming tonight.”

“Do your subs know that?” 

“Don’t call them that. They’re subscribers not subs. Sub is something you do.”

Jesus. Please don’t let him cling to that. Please don’t let that give away that I know. 

“Pfft. Okay, do your subscribers know you’re not streaming anymore?”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s created this distance on purpose and now the moment has passed. 

Fine, you’ll get more from him about this eventually. You need to understand how Soon Yi impacted him. You don’t really know why, but you can’t help but feel like knowing more might make you feel less uneasy about all of this. About you and Seokjin and what this could all maybe mean someday. 

“I can post about it,” you say softly and he nods. 

“That might be a good idea. You’ve had a big day. A big panic attack, you probably need some sleep.” 

Your stomach sinks at the idea that he might leave after this, and you’re still not sure you want to be alone. You chew your lip.“What I really need is some pizza,” you say. 

Seokjin smirks. “Good thing for you, I know exactly where we can find some.”  

“Thank you again for the pizza,” you said, nibbling on the edge of one crust. “I didn’t think I could be that hungry after eating so much earlier.”

Seokjin took another swig of beer, shrugging. “Well, you’ve had a big day, and you burned energy and probably calories earlier.” 

Your panic attack may have seemed to you like it was coming out of nowhere, but to Seokjin, it wasn’t. He had noticed your embarrassment the second after you asked him that question, saw you spiral inside yourself as you tried to huff air. He wasn’t sure what really triggered it, but he also knew he didn’t want to leave you after that. 

He wasn’t unfamiliar to them. Yes, Yoongi had his share, and it took a little while to learn what ways he could be soothed. Soon Yi’s were different, though. A lot more similar to yours. 

When they had started experimenting sexually, there would be times in which she would fall so quickly into panic, like she couldn’t give up control. And from that point on, sometimes she would spiral deeper, into some pit of shame where whatever they were doing, even if it wasn’t super kinky, led to these shaking, sub-drop-like breakdowns. They were more rare, but they did happen, especially earlier in their relationship. 

At the time, Seokjin didn’t understand what was going on, and neither did Soon Yi. Just that she sometimes would flip on him during foreplay when he would get a little more confident and dominant, or if he started falling into a scene that she had asked them to do, using the script the way she asked, it would happen anyway. Almost like she was fighting between what she wanted and who she expected herself to be. 

And that’s in a way how you seemed to be too. Maybe you weren’t like this sexually, and he would unpack that idea later. But in this intimate space of your home, it was like Seokjin was experiencing some type of whiplash as you went from being so uncomfortable about asking about his sexuality to you lying next to him in your bed talking about his ex. 

He wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. He understood that especially after a panic attack, people were desperate for closeness and intimacy, and whatever reaction he had to your panic, you felt soothed and safe with him. He was being let into your world little by little, even if you were fighting yourself to let it happen. 

He wanted that. He wanted this: you two eating cold pizza on the floor of your living room, you chewing happily and Seokjin warm and full of life watching you do it. 

You even let him make adjustments to your space, laughing and applauding him after he ripped some of the clean cardboard from one of the pizza boxes and made shims to prop up and balance your oven and fridge. He found if he scooted the couch slightly to the left and your entertainment system got turned a few inches, you could completely see the TV from anywhere on the couch. You dove to the other side almost immediately, whooping when you realized you wouldn’t have to strain yourself to see anymore. 

You were comfortable. He made you comfortable. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” you said, your hand caressing over the soft roll of your stomach to demonstrate how full you were. Then, a deep burp echoed into the room. Your eyes widened. “Oh, wow, sorry. Excuse me,” you said suppressing a chuckle. 

But Seokjin was already laughing, his body shaking at the sound. “So polite for someone who made that noise.” 

The tenseness in your shoulders fell and you gave in, laughing next to him. “Listen! It was good, and the carbonation of the beer is making me have to burp!” 

“Sure, sure. That’s what it is. You know I’ve seen those memes about how women don’t fart or burp or poop and I’m onto you! You have one strike. If you fart or shit I’m going to prove that meme false.” 

You scoff, tears leaking out the side of your eyes. “Well good thing for you, I will not deny those allegations. I don’t just poop, I shit.” 

Seokjin choked on his next sip of beer, spluttering some of it out of his nose. “Oh shit.” Tears flowed from his eyes from the sting, and he grasped for some napkins near the pizza. 

You weren’t much better off, coughing heavily into your shirt as you tried to recover. This, this was everything he could ever want. Afterward, you both cleaned up the kitchen and pizza together, finishing off the six-pack of beer until your yawns were impossible to ignore. 

“It’s really late, Y/N. You should go to sleep,” he said. He hated himself for suggesting it, almost wishing that you would extend the invitation to stay. Even then, though, he would have to decline.

“Or we could, I don’t know, play a game or something?” As you said this, you stifled another yawn. 

He chuckled. You were stalling, he could tell. And he wasn’t strong enough to say no. “Hm, okay how about this. We can hang out in your room and I’ll tell you more about me. But you have to get ready for bed first, otherwise it’s no deal.” 

Your eyelids were heavy, but you beamed anyway. “Yeah, okay.”

You went into your room, grabbing some clothes before shutting yourself into the bathroom to get ready. Seokjin paced your living room, scanning the book shelves, a variety of titles he’d never seen before in the stacks. But there was one, a smaller and thinner book that had more wear and tear than the rest. He slid it out carefully and held it in his hands. Tuck Everlasting, a book he’d read in elementary school about a teenager who met a family that drank from a tree’s magical spring and lived forever. 

Based on your copy, he could tell it was well-loved and read many times. How old were you when you read it, he wondered. Did you want to run away into the woods like he did afterward, trying to find a magical spring of your own? 

The bathroom door opened, and he carefully slotted the book back onto the shelf before turning to you. You were wearing an oversized T-shirt and some very, very short pajama shorts. Your legs looked so soft to touch. His hand twitched.

“Okay,” you said, “I’m ready.” 

Seokjin wasn’t. But he followed you into the darkness of your room anyway, laid himself down next to you on the bed as you tucked yourself under the blankets. Your eyes shimmered as you looked at him, now way more awake than you had appeared just ten minutes ago. 

Were you hustling him? 

“You need to crawl under the blankets too. Otherwise they’ll constrict me and I will absolutely not fall asleep like you have clearly planned,” you tease. 

You were hustling him. He liked it. 

He chuckled and obeyed, folding back the comforter and sheets to get in. But in doing so, he revealed you with your shorts already bunched up on your thighs, exposing your lacy panties at your hip. Your shirt was riding up, and he could see a tiny bit of your stomach peeking out. 

God fucking help him. He managed a deep breath, begging himself not to get hard, or for his body to at least wait until you wouldn’t see him getting hard and he was under the covers. This wasn’t the time. Not after all the emotionality of the day. But his dick didn’t know that. 

Your covers smelled like you, soft and even a little sweet and you really had to be fucking with him because you shoved yourself even closer to him under the covers, so that there were just a few inches between you two. He felt your body heat radiating from you. 

“There,” you sighed, and he smelled a hint of your mint toothpaste. His mouth watered. “Now, where were we?”

No, but where were you really? He didn’t remember, didn’t know where to start. And then it clicked. 

“Mmm, you were going to go to sleep I think,” he said. 

You frowned, your nose wrinkling. “No, that’s not true. Or it was. I’m not tired now.” 

“Give it a minute, I’m sure soon your eyelids won’t be able to stay open.” 

“Sure, but yours are heavy now too. So you must be tired. Now it’s a competition.” You were right. His eyelids were heavy, and he was tired. But he knew his body, especially as keyed up as he was getting, wasn’t about to let him fall asleep any time soon. 

“I think I’ll win that one,” he laughed lightly. 

“Doubt it,” you challenged, and you shifted your legs, now a little less comfy and more antsy. You slowly released a breath. 

“Are you sure you want to do this right now?” He asked, and you didn’t hesitate to nod. 

“I want to know more about you. It’s nice to put the puzzle pieces of you together in my head.” Your voice was growing husky.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” you replied. A beat passed. Neither of you moved to say anything, just looked at each other. 

Shouldn’t this be awkward? Shouldn’t all of this feel wrong? Somewhere in his mind, the logical response was yes, this is weird and he should leave. But then he would be leaving you after a hard day, when you clearly were trying to avoid him leaving by going so far as to keep yourself awake to stare at him. To try to get to know him. And that’s what rooted him now. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. Maybe you were only being needy. But he also felt needy right now. And for the moment, logic could fuck off. 

So he pushed it away, letting the parts of him he liked most bubble to the surface, the parts that led without overthinking and just acted on what he wanted. 

He moved slightly closer to you, and you blanched, a little taken aback, but you recovered quickly. “

I’m cold,” you said. He knew it was a lie. He could feel the heat of you. 

“Here,” he replied, and he pulled the blanket open slightly so you could wiggle forward, resting yourself against his chest. 

He angled himself carefully, trying so hard to avoid the rest of your bodies touching, but it was impossible, so he pulled you closer, letting every part of you rest against him. 

“Tell me,” you muttered.

“What should I tell you?” he whispered back. 

“I don’t know. Anything.” You were fading quickly, and he was relieved. Sad that he would have to go soon, but relieved that you were finally resting. 

“Okay,” he said, even softer. “I think if I ever drank from a magical spring, I would do a better job hiding it than the Tuck family did.” 

You hummed in response, and then he felt your head nod into his chest as you fell fully asleep. 

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[ladylannisterxo]

I posted 10,195 times in 2022

That's 2,319 more posts than 2021!

962 posts created (9%)

9,233 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@userspeaknowtv

@lovepollution

@heroeddiemunson

@ne8ula

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I tagged 8,805 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#st4 - 1,516 posts

#eddie munson - 1,184 posts

#stranger things - 1,102 posts

#text - 680 posts

#asked and answered - 661 posts

#'s' answers - 660 posts

#steve harrington - 624 posts

#hotd - 576 posts

#house of the dragon - 576 posts

#anon - 508 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#like... i want this man to threaten me. preferably in high valyrian. i'll have no idea what he's saying. but i'll be on my knees in no time

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

“You did all of this for me?” with eddie please lovey 🥺

I gotchu!! Thanks so much for the request! Let us pretend that for this one, Vol. 2 kinda happened but our sweet boy didn't die and Hawkins didn't get blown to hell. Okay? 😂

Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Prompt # 17; "You did all this for me?" Words; 0.8k Warnings; None, just pure fluff!

It had been weeks since Eddie first went into the hospital but he was finally coming home. You had agreed rather begrudgingly to wait outside for him. Eddie has had a... difficult time adjusting and he refused to suffer the indignity of you seeing him in such a bad state any longer than was necessary. How very casual of him to forget that you had witnessed the initial attack which led to his wounds. Nothing could ever be worse than that.

After another few excruciating moments, Eddie stumbles out the front door, hand pressed against his side where the stitches have sewn his alabaster skin back together. You jump to your feet immediately, hopping up and down and waving your arms wildly above your head. When he sees you, he pauses, arching his brow and glancing around at all the people staring at you like you're out of your damn mind.

He laughs and your heart thumps faster in your chest. "People can see you, ya know?"

"Don't care." You wave him off. "Come on, come on! I have something to show you!"

You have the passenger side door of your car open and waiting for him by the time he gets himself over to you. He smiles softly at the gesture, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and mumbling a quick thank you, missed you as he climbs in. You jog around to the driver side and slide in, turning to him dramatically and grinning crazy big.

"Would you be mad if I said I was more terrified now than I was getting chewed on by interdimensional bats?"

You narrow your eyes. "First of all, not funny. Second, I promise, you're not gonna hate this."

The drive back to his place is quiet. Eddie spends most of his time gazing out the rolled down window, breathing in the fresh air he's been missing for the past few weeks. You don't mind, he deserves it; after all, he's a fucking hero to this damn town. When you arrive, you offer him another bright smile and hop out of the car. You slip inside of his trailer, making sure everything is just as you left it before turning back to find him just now reaching the porch stairs.

"Sure I'm gonna love this?" He's joking but your smile slips for a half second.

"Yep!" Fuck, I hope so.

"I don't need to, like, close my eyes or anything, right?"

"Nope!"

When he crosses the threshold, he comes face to face with... an empty trailer. Eddie would admit that he thought he was coming home to a surprise party even though he knew that you knew that he hated those. But, upon further inspection, he sees that the tiny trailer isn't quite like how it was left. Sure, there is still a crack in the ceiling where the gate to hell finally closed up and he'll get used to that being there eventually but it's everything else.

It's the banner on the wall that says "Welcome home, Eddie, I've missed you!" It's the insane amount of food spilling out of the cabinets and onto the counter tops that he never could have afforded on his own. It's the VHS tapes that you no doubt spent so long picking out at Family Video because you knew Steve and Robin just wouldn't understand what Eddie wanted. It's... you standing in the middle of all this simplicity staring back at him and chewing on your lip nervously. Eddie's breath catches and his heart swells in his chest.

"You said you wanted to return to normal as quickly as possible and I know this isn't much but I just thought, you know, after weeks of eating shitty hospital food and watching terrible daytime television that maybe, I don't know, we could watch gritty horror movies and eat food that's bad for us and..." You trail off, glancing around the room and then back to Eddie who is staring at you with wide eyes. "You hate it, don't you?"

"No," he says quickly, "this is- it's just- you did all this for me?"

You quirk an eyebrow. "It's... not much of anything."

"It's perfect," he whispers, "it's everything."

He crosses the room quicker than you'd expect and pulls you in for a deep kiss. You melt into his arms, savoring the warmth of his body and taste of his mouth on yours. It's been so long since you've held him in your arms that you're committed to memorizing every part of him all over again.

"I can't wait to do absolutely nothing with you for the next few days," he exclaims with a wide smile, eyes alight yet intoxicating. "I love you so much, thank you."

"Welcome home, baby," you whisper, pulling him back in for another kiss.

314 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

#4

68 and 72 with tom (make up), please??

Of course!!

Pairings; Tom Grant x fem!Reader Prompts # 68 and 72; "I like you, like like you like you." + "You're so fucking cute." Words; 0.4k Warnings; Mentions of a past break up but purely fluff!

Tom had been quiet all night and you were starting to get antsy. Sitting next to him on his couch, a film the two of you have seen a dozen times before played aimlessly before your eyes but you couldn’t focus, not with the heat radiating off of him from his close proximity and definitely because you felt like something was wrong.

“Are you- is everything alright?” you ask gently, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says a bit too quickly, “just thinking is all.”

“What about?”

He sighs, a loud and somewhat defeated sound and you cringe at not only how desperate you sounded but at how this night feels like it’s careening completely off the rails. You turn toward him then, propping your elbow up on the back of the couch and resting your head in your hand. Clearly this is headed in a direction you’re not ultimately prepared for so you might as well grant him your undivided attention.

“You know I like spending time with you, right?” he asks, turning his gaze on you.

You nod even though confusion is bubbling up inside of you like a shaken up soda bottle. This sounds like the start of a break up… but he can’t break up with me, we aren’t even dating?? Tom twists in his seat, turning to face you fully and placing one of his hands on your knee. Your breath hitches at the contact.

“I really enjoy spending time with you,” he says slowly, “and you’ve been so good to me through, well, everything that has happened.” You grimace, his nasty break up with Ruth coming to the forefront of your mind. “But the thing is, while it should feel like I’m moving too fast here, the truth is that I like you, like… like you like you.”

Oh.

You smile softly, placing your hand on his. “I like you too, Tom.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, relief evident on his handsome features.

“‘Course. I always have, there was just… never a good time to tell you.”

He nods, no need for you to say more. Then you snort, a ridiculous giggle flowing past your lips before you can stop it.

“What?”

“Nothing! Nothing, you’re just… you’re so fucking cute, you know that? With you being all surly and quiet tonight, I thought you were pissed at me! Never would have considered this is what you wanted to tell me!”

Tom looks down, clearly thinking over the events of the evening and then he’s chuckling too and the sound makes your heart skip a beat.

“Sorry,” he admits, “I’m kind of an idiot sometimes, I guess.”

“Me too,” you reply with a shrug, “but that’s okay, we can be idiots together cause I like you like you too.”

511 notes - Posted July 30, 2022

#3

oh and “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?” with tom!!!!

Ahhhhhh!! Tom, my beloved! This is my first time writing for this sweet mans so here goes nothing...

Pairings; Tom Grant x fem!Reader Prompt # 90; "If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?" Words; 0.4k Warnings; Some drinking and a game of Truth or Dare but mainly just fluff!

“Tom!” You yell out abruptly, startling the poor boy. “Truth or dare?”

He shakes his head with a small smile. “I’m not- I’m not playing.”

“Well… you are sitting in the player circle, are you not?” You wave your hand around the gaggle of individuals who have assembled for this makeshift game of Truth or Dare. Tom eyes each one, takes a sip of his beer, and then goes to stand. “Now you can’t just leave! Sit. Stay. Play.”

He sighs, returning back to his seated position in the sand. He turns his gaze out towards the waves crashing against the shore and you can tell he’s weighing his pros and cons. You take a sip of your own drink, eyes never wavering from his face. You’ve been steadily getting more inebriated as the night progressed having needed something to calm your nerves when Tom sat down to observe the game. He had turned his big brown eyes to you with a smile and you were putty at his feet. But he didn’t need to know that. Yet.

“Tom,” you sing out softly, pulling his attention back to you, “truth or dare?”

“Uhh… truth?”

“Boring!” You smirk but you’re calm, you’re cool, you can work with this. No way he can see how nervous you just became. “If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?”

Tom splutters at your question, the beer he was sipping on spewing from his lips. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, a sheepish and awkward grin pulling at his lips. A rosy hue blooms up his neck and you bite your lip in anticipation, praying you didn’t push too hard with this. He meets your eyes and everything just stops—everyone around you fades away, the crashing waves a dull roar in your ear; there is no one else here but you and him.

He doesn’t answer, only pushes himself up to his knees and shuffles halfway into the circle. You take the opportunity to do the same and then you’re practically chest to chest with him, his nose bumping yours. His eyes are wide, bright, and beautiful and without a word, he brings his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. You swoon, melting into his embrace and cupping his neck as you open your mouth to let his tongue slip inside. It’s heated and slightly desperate and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you but you’re too engrossed in the way his skin feels against your fingers and how he tastes like cheap beer and sour candy. 

When the kiss comes to a sweet end, your eyes flutter open to find him already staring back at you. His smile is warm as he brushes a flyaway strand of hair out of your face. “Glad you made me play,” he chuckles softly, “but you never needed a game to get me to want to kiss you.”

554 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

#2

💌: "you were put on this earth to give me a headache" prompt w/ billy hargrove x reader? maybe they're at a party and reader is drunk and keeps trying to wander off and maybe chases a raccoon or something and billy secretly finds it adorable but is like "🙄🙄" on the outside while trying to get the reader into his car? ☺️ congrats on 1k btw, lovely! you deserve it. 🤍🤍🤍

Thank you love, hope you enjoy this!! 💕💕 I haven't written for Billy in a hot minute but he came back to me surprisingly easy!!

Pairings; Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader Prompt # 36; "You were put on this earth to give me a headache." Words; 0.6k Warnings; Some drinking and a heated kiss but mostly pure fluff!

You hated parties, like well and truly hated them. But not Billy, no, he loved a good party, it was the perfect place for him to show off. You were steadfast in your initial refusal to attend but after a lot of pleading and even more kisses, you relented. How could you not when he looked at you the way he did?

The party was crowded, packed tight with people you knew all too well but not enough to know further. Billy had disappeared rather quickly after someone called his name to come join God knows who outside and with a kiss and smile, he was gone. You were starting to feel anxious so you politely excused yourself to the nearest bathroom only to find a very drunk couple trying and failing to fuck against the sink. That’s when you started drinking.

You had no interest in really talking to anyone so you kept refilling that same red solo cup over and over and over again and by the time you stumbled outside to find Billy finishing up his infamous keg stand, you were giggly and downright plastered. He lost his shirt at some point during the night (typical) and when your eyes land on his bare chest, cheap beer dribbling down until it disappears into the denim of his tight as hell jeans, well, you’re feeling much more than giggly.

When he sees you, he greets you with one of his trademark smirks, sidling up to you with so much suave charm that you begin to feel weak in the knees. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against his chest and then his lips are on yours. The kiss is hungry and sloppy and filled to the brim with heat but your alcohol infused brain can’t quite keep up with the movement of your lips so he ends up doing all the work. Not that he minds, Billy adores taking the lead so you let him. His lips trail down to your jaw and then even further to your neck and that’s when you start giggling. And not the shy, sweet giggles he’s come to know, the kind that wracks your whole body as has you shoving him away from you.

“You’re so handsy,” you chastise with a hiccup, slapping his hand away when he reaches out again, “if you wanna play, you’ll have to come find me first.”

With that, you spin on your heel as elegantly as you can and disappear back into the sea of partygoers, leaving the boy completely dumbstruck but slightly intrigued with your game. He follows you inside, finding you in an instant on the dance floor living it up and you look so ridiculous that he has to laugh. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't be caught dead dancing in the middle of a crowd but drunk you is completely different than what he expected.

What you’re doing can’t even be described as dancing, it’s all flailing arms and spinning in circles and after one too many spins, you stumble and fall directly into the arms of Billy, who was right there to catch you the entire time.

“I think,” he drawls, pulling you tighter against his body, “you were put on this earth to give me a headache.”

You snort, gripping his chin between your fingers. “Bold of you to assume I wasn’t put on this earth to give everyone a headache.”

“Let me take you home,” he offers, wrapping one arm around the small of your back and taking your hand in his other to keep you steady.

“Take me home or… take me home,” you respond, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Take you home to sleep,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple, “maybe get you some food and water.”

Your eyes soften, hand coming up to cup his cheek gently. “You’re gonna take care of me?”

“Always, princess,” he says, kissing the palm of your hand, “but I’m also never gonna let you live this down.”

689 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

legit nothing but respect for wayne munson for knowing immediately that eddie had nothing to do with chrissy's death. not a single part of him was like, "well... maybe i don't know my nephew as well as i thought." just straight up says, "my nephew may look dangerous but he didn't do this, it's just not in his nature." i love that and i hope that he and eddie can have a reunion of some sort in vol. 2 because aside from the gang, eddie should know that someone else believes it wasn't him.

2,346 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[cookiescraze]

Marital Love - Chapter 9 (Final)

Word Count: 3K+

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, SFW, Cold!Jungkook, Arranged Marriage AU, Jungkook-centric, CEO!Jungkook, Workplace AU

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9 (Completed)

With Jungkook taking a shower, Y/N was peacefully lying on the couch, completely absorbed in the book she was reading. Immersed in the scene, she was startled when the doorbell rang. The book flew from her clutches and landed on the soft material of the couch with a slight thud. Y/N placed a hand on her chest, trying to calm down her racing heart. The doorbell rang again, forcing Y/N to push herself off the couch and walked towards the door, opening it wide open to see two (very handsome) men.

"Uhh... How may I help you?" Y/N asked politely.

"I'm sorry, doesn't Jeon Jungkook live here?" Inquired one of them, absolutely befuddled at Y/N's appearance.

"Huh? Oh ye-" Y/N was soon interrupted by a voice from behind her.

"Y/n-ah, who's at the door?" Y/N turned around to see Jungkook coming down in grey sweatpants and a t-shirt, drying his wet hair using a towel.

"Oh, Jungkook! They're here for you." At Y/n's words, Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows and walked towards the door, swinging an arm around Y/N's shoulders before looking at his visitors.

"Hyung! What are you guys doing here?!" Jungkook exclaimed while Y/N buried herself on the side of Jungkook, slightly intimidated by the two strangers.

"We were assigned to the main office once again, so we decided to come to visit you. Also, we wanted you to sign some papers while we were here." He glanced continuously at me, utterly confused.

"Oh! I totally forgot to introduce you guys. Y/N, these are my friends Jimin Hyung and Jin Hyung. Guys this is my wife, Y/N." At Jungkook's words, their eye bulged out in shock.

"You're married?!" The two exclaimed at the same time.

***

"So, you're telling me, YOU are married?!" Jin exclaimed

"I can't believe you didn't even tell us! I still refuse to believe this anti-romantic is settling down. Y/N-ah," Jimin turned towards Y/N before continuing. "If he ever mistreats you, know I will be there single and ready to mingle." He finished off his sentence with a cute and adorable wink, his charms overflowing smoothly.

It earned a small giggle from Y/N, reminding her of a cute cat. However, Jungkook didn't look so pleased, instead, he squinted his eyes at the elder man, almost challenging him to even try anything with his wife.

"I don't think that would be necessary," Jungkook said, wrapping a protective arm around Y/N's waist, pulling her even closer, eliminating any space between the two.

Seeing Y/n almost crushed against the side of Jungkook and the daring glare pointed towards Jimin, Jin decided to interfere.

"Anyway, Jungkook-ah, could you read through these documents and sign them? We would have brought them to you tomorrow but they need to be finalised and sent by tomorrow morning."

Reluctantly unwrapping his arm, still glaring at Jimin, Jungkook nodded. Standing up, the young man straightened his pants before pointing upstairs.

"Let's go to my room." Jungkook muttered before leading the way. The other two quickly followed him, with Jimin not forgetting to give Y/n one last wink, flustering Y/n.

***

Y/n had resumed her spot on the couch, swinging her legs up and down while reading her book, when they came downstairs.

"We'll discuss more about the hotel tomorrow. Hope you have a safe journey back." Jungkook said with a professional tone laced on his voice.

"See you tomorrow." Jin bid the couple goodbye, ready to leave.

Unfortunately, Jimin had slightly different plans. He walked towards Y/N with a flirtatious glint in his eyes, causing Jungkook to immediately be alarmed, ready to fight Jimin if he even laid a finger on Y/N.

"It's a pity we couldn't talk more. How about we grab a coffee tomorrow?" Jimin asked, a suggestive expression plastered across his face.

"S-she can't!" Interjected a worried and flustered Jungkook. "She has class full day tomorrow." At his words, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, an adorable expression of confusion on her face as she heard about her non-existent classes.

"Well... I guess some other time then. Bye Jungkookie!" He exclaimed before heading outside, a tired-yet-not-surprised Jin following him.

The door closed behind the two men, an indication to start Jin's rant.

"Why would you aggravate that muscle bunny?!" Jin accused Jimin, tired of his playful antics.

"Oh come on! Don't find it amusing? I mean, he has never shown interest in anything before, let me just tease him."

Jin gave Jimin an unimpressed look, silence falling over the two, before bursting out in laughter.

"That is right! I swear, I thought he was going to burst. Did you see how red he got?" The two joined together, laughing and teasing the poor boy.

***

"Bye Jungkook!" Y/N said, waving her arm. Jungkook, in response, gave her a loving smile, waving back at her.

Y/n stepped out of the office, the wooden door closing behind her, as she walked towards the elevator. However, the sight of a blonde-haired man caught her eye, causing her to panic and run back to Jungkook's cabin all flustered. She slammed the door open, hastily entering the room, shocking and surprising Jungkook, who looked at her in alarm and confusion.

"What happe-" He started off.

"Jimin is coming here." Y/N panted out, tired from the previous running.

Jungkook widened his eyes and stood up in alarm.

"What?! He can't know you're here or he'll never stop teasing me!" His tone was full of worry and regret, not knowing what to do now.

"You know what, just hide."

"What? Whe- Why?" Y/N asked, startled by his words.

Jungkook pulled the poor, flustered Y/N under his desk, not having time to answer any of her questions, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, looking around his room in panic before sitting on his chair, just in time for Jimin to enter the room.

"Hey, Jungkookie!" Greeted the cheerful Jimin

"Oh Hyung! Have you ever heard of knocking?" Jungkook said sarcastically, trying to buy time to calm himself down.

"When did I ever knock? Anyway, with the scandal going on with Special Security Inc. I think it is best to use another security company in the new hotel. In our test run, we are already having complaints, and people may not feel safe with their technology being used. The next best option is Diamond Security but they are 1.2% more expensive and we would have to set up a meeting with them to discuss the contract and conditions." Jimin said, not even aware of Y/N's presence under the desk.

Jungkook composed himself before discussing the details and thoughts, soon almost forgetting the fact that Y/N was hiding under his desk, who was starting to get bored. As she tuned out her husband and Jimin, she was starting to feel restless and annoyed. Trying to find something to focus on, she leaned her head on Jungkook's thigh and started drawing small doodles on the other thigh with her delicate finger. Jungkook widened his eyes and sat up straight in shock at Y/N's actions.

"What's wrong?" Jimin asked, seeing the shock on Jungkook's face.

"N-nothing, continue." Jungkook started, trying his best to keep calm.

Y/N innocently carried on with her doodles, not aware of the effects of her actions on Jungkook. As her finger traveled higher and higher in an attempt of drawing a flower, Jungkook closed his eyes tightly in frustration, desperate to tame himself down. His legs bounced up and down, in an attempt to both calm him down and to stop Y/N. However, Y/N chuckled silently and challenged herself to continue to draw with new turbulence, finally eradicating her boredom. Unfortunately, Jungkook could take it no more, forcing him to spit out words in an attempt to get Jimin to leave.

"You know Hyung, could we talk about this later? I have a call that is about to come in." Jungkook said, trying his best not to stutter.

"Sure, I'll just set up a meeting with the finance team and the IT team to come up with the solution and inform you later." Jimin said, nodding in agreement, getting ready to leave.

"I'll take a leave then." Jimin bowed slightly before walking towards the door and leaving the room.

At the newly found privacy, Jungkook heaved a sigh and wrapped an arm around Y/N, hoisting her up from her hiding position, shocking her and preventing her from doodling any further. Y/n looked at Jungkook in shock and confusion, eyes blatantly displaying her innocence and purity. However, it was that look of innocence that annoyed Jungkook even further. How could someone rile him up so much without even intending to do so? Why was he so responsive to the slightest touch of Y/N?

"Just what do you think you were doing?" He spoke in a low voice, in an attempt to intimidate Y/N. However, used to the cold demeanour of her husband, Y/n was not at all intimidated.

"Why? I was just bored?" She tilted her head in confusion, giving Jungkook the cutest expression.

He chuckled looking down, desperate to get away from the adorable look on Y/N's face, before facing her once again.

"You really have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?" Jungkook question, a dark gaze entering his eyes.

He stood up from his chair and walked closer to the petite frame of Y/N. She looked questioningly at his dark gaze and knowing smirk, slightly alarmed. She took a step back unconsciously, worried about what was going inside Jungkook's mind.

"Why a-are you looking at me like that?" Y/N said, looking at him warily.

"Do you know what you were doing to me?" He said, slowly walking closer and closer to her, forcing her to take a few steps back. "Do you not see me as a man? Do you not know what your touches do to me?"

Y/N widened her eyes when she felt the hard surface of the wall hit her back, leaving her no way of escaping. Jungkook smirked when he cornered her, towering over her, his arms caging her.

"Did no one tell you not touch your husband like that?"

"L-like what? I w-was just drawing some flowers." Y/n stuttered desperately to justify her actions. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at her retort.

"Well then, you wouldn't mind if I did the same, would you?" A teasing glint in his eyes.

He caressed Y/N's cheeks before slowly drawing his finger down to her neck, stopping just before her first button to draw the outline of her name, getting dangerously close to the lace material of her bra. Y/N gulped at Jungkook's actions, starting to understand what he was talking about.

Jungkook leaned down to her ear, before whispering in the huskiest voice he could muster.

"Do you understand? Hmm? How I felt?" He whispered before nibbling on her earlobe.

Y/n was shaken, never experiencing things like this before, she stood still not knowing what to do. Jungkook slowly moved from her ear to her jaw, meticulously covering her jaw with wet kisses. He peaked at Y/N's expression, pleased to see the flustered and surprised expression on her face, causing him to smirk victoriously at the effect he had on her.

"Why? Regret it already? Do-"

"I don't." Y/n injected in a small voice, almost afraid of his reaction.

With the single sentence, a heavy tension loomed over the two, as they stared at each other in silence, not breaking eye contact for even a second.

"What?" Jungkook whispered, in absolute shock and disbelief.

"I don't regret it." It was now Y/n's turn, walking closer to the frozen Jungkook, eliminating any space between them. "I don't regret doing that to you." She muttered, slyly playing the top button of his shirt.

"Baby, don't play with m-me like that. It's not funny." He said, stuttering due to the thundering of his chest at Y/n's words.

"I'm not. I may have not intentionally done that, but now, I really don't regret it." She said, looking directly at Jungkook, eyes displaying the sincerity of her words.

"God, I love you!" Jungkook muttered under his breath before swooping down to smash his lips on hers, her back crashing on the wall due to the impact.

Y/n arms automatically wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her than ever. Her eyes fluttered close as she kissed him back, harder and deeper, melting at the touch of their lips. He salvaged every single feeling of the kiss, the passion, the ferocity... the love. A million thoughts filling their heads were ignored and pushed away, desiring nothing more than to enjoy this moment. The intensity ignited a fire between the two, her chest exploding at the fervent urgency of the kiss. The kiss was heated, messy, and all over the place, but Jungkook couldn't care less. He continued kissing her like his life depended on it, sucking, biting, and licking, trying to savour the sweet taste of his love. His arms roamed around her torso, waist, her hips, and chest. He didn't know what to do, he wanted everything at the moment. The innocent touches were no longer present, both of them immersed in the intimate feeling of their bodies next to each other. She knotted her fist in his hair, making him let out a soft, low groan. Tongues battling each other, hungrily kissing and devouring each other, they forgot everything around them, focusing on the burning touches of each other.

Jungkook tapped her thigh, indicating her to jump. Not breaking the kiss, Y/n jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Jungkook pushed her further onto the wall and pressed himself – all of him – against her.

Jungkook reluctantly pulled back, both panting heavily, breathless, before asking slowly. "Baby, are you sure? I can't stop later."

Y/N chuckled before leaning to leave a soft kiss on his lips.

"I'm sure." She whispered while smiling lovingly at Jungkook, looking purely at his eyes.

"God, I don't know what to do with you" He muttered before he smashed his lips against her, eagerly tasting every bit of her.

Y/n matched his passion as she kissed back hungrily. As Jungkook slowly yet tauntingly traveled to her neck, meticulously searching for her soft spot, Y/n leaned her head against the wooden wall, unconsciously giving him more space, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. Jungkook avidly sucked her soft skin, leaving hickeys everywhere. He knew that leaving markings out in the open was immature, but he didn't care. He couldn't help but act like a hormonal teenager in front of Y/n when all he wanted was to devour her. Y/n snaked her hands around his head, unconsciously pushing his face closer, not wanting to stop. She arched her back into him, melting in his hold, while Jungkook tightened his hold around her waist, not caring if he left a mark. As he held her with hand, the other hand aimlessly yet impatiently wandered around her torso, traveling up to play with her buttons before eagerly popping them open, unconsciously grinding on her. In the future, Jungkook would find himself cursing at himself continuously as how eager he was acting, like a 15-year-old boy, when he should have treated her with utmost care. However, that was for later. Right now, he couldn't think about anything but Y/n. Both of them couldn't care that they were in the office as they drowned in pure ecstasy, heat bubbling inside at their touches.

Regardless of where they were, they felt at home.

"Hey, Jung-" A voice interrupted them causing y/n to yelp in surprise as she jumped out of Jungkook's hold, immediately hiding behind his figure embarrassedly.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had instantly turned his back to the unwelcomed visitor as he wrapped his arms around y/n, protectively covering her, before snapping his head towards the figure in anger and shock, glaring at the individual with swollen lips and extremely tousled hair.

"Hyung?!" Jungkook questioned, outraged at how he didn't even knock before entering.

Jimin on the other hand, merely stared at the couple in shock and disbelief, utterly embarrassed at the situation. His eyes were wide open, frozen in his place as he took the scene in front of him.

"I'm s-sorry. I'll be back later." He quickly muttered before hastily leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

Silence loomed over the couple as they tried to decipher what had just happened with unfocused eyes. Y/n couldn't help but find the situation hilarious, causing a snicker to escape her before she softly chuckled at the situation as she rested her forehead on his chest in an exhausted manner. Jungkook soon followed, laughing while he hugged Y/n closer to him.

Y/n slowly lifted her head, staring loving at Jungkook with a soft smile as he returned the smile.

"I love you…" She softly muttered.

"I love you too."

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9 (Completed)

[holden-caulfield]

Darker Than The Shadows

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "omg please make a part two to the “brighter than the sun” one shot- and please add me to your tag list :3"

SUMMARY: reader thinks back at her relationship with the darkling and wishes she could turn back.

WARNINGS: a little angsty maybe, but it ends with fluff

WORD COUNT: 620

A/N: part two of "Brighter Than The Sun", so i'd suggest reading that one before this, but it's not necessary :)

Was he really happy? You couldn't help but ask yourself this question as you saw him walking around the palace with her.

How perfect they looked together, the day and the night, light and darkness strolling together, as if you never even existed.

Did he really forget you that easily? Maybe he never cared about you, perhaps it was all lies. But they weren't for you: his little smiles, his warm embraces, him simply existing by your side, they weren't lies for you.

You remembered his smile, how bright it could be despite him being the shadow summoner. The same question repeated itself in your head: did he keep it for her? Would you ever see it again? It was once only reserved to you, and you had no doubt Alina now had the privilege of seeing it in private. The Saints know you would give everything to see it just once; the Saints know you would give everything to be the one it was dedicated to again.

You had thought about it. You could have told him everything, how you missed waking up next to him, how you missed him being the last thing you saw every day, how you missed his touch, how you missed his hair, his eyes, his everything. Your everything.

But he had made a decision, one you couldn't argue with. He had chosen Alina. You had to accept it.

It seemed unfair, for him to forget you so easily, for him to go on like nothing happened, for him to hold her hand as if it was yours. You knew you weren't the first and it was obvious you wouldn't have been the last, but it was unfair.

You avoided him, as much as possible, but it was hard to avoid him when you subconsciously looked for him everywhere.

"Can we talk, y/n?" it was unexpected. You hadn't heard his voice in so long; it was refreshing, it was deadly.

"Careful, people will see you with me." it was sharp, but it was your pain talking, you couldn't help it.

"I don't care, you know i never did." he stepped closer to you but you couldn't bear his presence, not when you knew you it wouldn't have lasted. So you stepped away.

"What do you need?" you asked dismissively.

He waited a few moments, inched closer; you didn't push him away.

"You." he whispered and chills ran down your spine. All of a sudden, it was like the first time you met: you felt nervous but excited, scared but eager.

"No, you don't." you replied, voice so low you didn't even hear yourself.

"I've always needed you and i'll always will." he started, "But i need to know something before i let you go."

You felt yourself going rigid.

"Are you happy?" he paused a moment. "Are you happy, without me?"

You knew the answer and in his eyes you could see that he wanted you to say it. He wanted to believe in it.

"Are you?" you asked.

He was staring into your eyes, every barrier he had ever built inside him couldn't stand a chance against you. He knew it, he shook his head no.

"Are you?" he mimicked, hope swirling behind those beautiful dark eyes.

"You've always been my other half, how could my answer be any different from yours?"

He didn't need anything else, he took your face in his hands and kissed you. Just like that, weeks of pain and longing vanished with a tender caress and his lips on yours.

"I left Alina." he whispered, his hands still cupping your cheeks, foreheads touching.

"Did you, now?" you asked, smiling.

"Of course, it's always been you."

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[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Nine: Letters, Lovers and Loyalties

A/N: This is the ninth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2185

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Yet another letter dropped into the lap of Aria Dumbledore as she sat absentmindedly sketching. Dropping her quill back into the small pot of ink which balanced on the arm of her chair, a small sigh escaped her lips. She had been expecting another to arrive any day now.

Aria allowed herself a small glance in the direction of her desk where the ever growing pile of unopened letter sat gathering dust. Disregarding her drawing, Aria traveled to her desk, fingers fumbling with the edge of the envelope. Admittedly, Aria's mind had been focused on that small pile of letters the past few days, and consequently the man who sent them. She couldn't bring herself to reply to his constant inquiries, but she had considered there was no harm in opening a few of them. She longed to hear from him, though she had been in denial for so long now she wasn't sure what to expect from his most recent letters.

Waiting no longer she ripped the paper from its wax seal, her eyes quickly scanning every word on the page.

My dear Aria, Though I know you say you cannot reply to my letters, I write them all with the hope that you will find the time in your busy schedule to at least read them. As always things are quiet here without you. Too quiet. I miss your voice. I miss hearing you sing to yourself in the shower thinking no one can hear you, I miss hearing you hum as you wander aimlessly through the house, I miss watching you draw as I pose for you, but most importantly I miss holding you in my arms. I long for the end of the school year when we will be reunited and I will have nothing to miss except maybe writing these letters. I long for a response to my letters, my darling. I simply must know that you miss me as I miss you. In the mean time I will continue to write to you to keep myself distracted from everything terrible happening in the world, by simply thinking of you. All my love, S.

Aria couldn't help but feel a great pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach for ignoring the letters, but she couldn't bare the thought of reading them, while she was still coming to terms with how she felt when she decided to leave for Hogwarts. She knew immediately she would not be able to maintain a long distance relationship with him. Though he was the first man she had ever loved she had been too cowardly to confess her feelings for him in person, let alone on a piece of parchment. She knew she was a pathetic coward from the moment he told her he loved her and she could not find it in her to return the favour. Her cowardice was more than proven the day she left for Hogwarts. Aria had planned to break up with him, to avoid further heartbreak down the line. But she could not even find the courage to do that.

Instead she was living in denial. In her mind they had broken up, and refused to face up to whatever she was truly feeling until it was absolutely necessary. Her plan had been to distract herself as much as possible, suppress her feelings and just forget about the situation completely. And to be totally honest her plan had been working for her, with the exception of a few off days such as today. However when it came time to wake up and face the music she had no idea what her plan would be then.

Leaving the letter open on her desk she took a stroll around the grounds of Hogwarts to clear her mind. The time to figure out all of her problems was not now. She was still a young, carefree woman and she didn't want the burden of guilt stopping her from living her life however she so wished.

Arias walk led her to the village of Hogsmeade, and after working up a light sweat, the young professor opted to pop into the Three Broomsticks to quench her thirst.

Unsurprisingly for a late Tuesday evening the place was barren. Besides for a drunken wizard practically falling off his bar stood, a crazy witch whispering to herself and two well dressed men, sitting out of place in a side booth, the place was completely deserted. Planning to only stay for a pumpkin juice Aria took a seat at the bar and begun chatting to the same barmaid who had served her and Severus all those weeks ago.

"Busy night?" Aria joked, rolling her eyes at the drunk to her right.

The woman laughed in return, handing over a glass of pumpkin juice. "This is pretty much the standard, at this time." She shrugged, polishing off a perfectly clean glass, to keep herself busy. "That one over there doesn't even order anything, but its not worth the hassle kicking her out." She gestured to the old hag in the corner, her perfectly polished nails glistening in the dim bar light.

"I wish I could say I felt sorry for you, but a break away from the chaos that is Hogwarts is a slight relief." Aria sighed. She was still not used to being around so many people all the time having spent the past few years alone, besides her mother, she often needed time alone to breathe.

"Oh, then you must be new. I've had my fair share of lonely professors spend an evening behind my bar, and I usually remember who's spilled their whole life story to me. Though you do look familiar, what do you teach?" She finished up with her glasses, leaning her elbows on the bar to get a closer look at the younger woman, her breasts practically falling out her blouse.

"I'm just an apprentice for now. I'm the new Potions Mistress." Aria smiled, taking a small sip of her drink.

"Oh yes, now I remember. You came here with that Severus. He's not unfamiliar with our whiskey selection, if you know what I mean." Both women rolled their eyes in unison. "He doesn't seem to talk much though, I can't say I know anything about him. I must admit I was surprised to see him with a gorgeous young witch like yourself."

"You weren't the only one." Aria scoffed, finishing off her pumpkin juice.

"Well it makes a little bit more sense now." She laughed, a set of pristine pearly teeth emerging from her red glossy lips.

It seemed Aria was not the only one who had been admiring the woman's beauty, and almost right on cue the drunk decided to look a little bit more lively, demanding another pint. Reluctantly the barmaid obliged, shooting Aria an apologetic look.

Aria couldn't help but notice the gruff looking man practically throw himself over the bar in order to get a good gawk at the barmaids behind. The slightly older woman seemed unfazed by the mans actions, in-fact Aria wasn't entirely unsure she wasn't enjoying the attention. Choosing not to interrupt as neither party seemed to object to the altercation, Aria kept her mouth shut.

That was until the man's attention turned to her. The barmaid disappeared from view, presumably to refill the barrel the drunk had practically drowned himself in. "Haven't seen you around here before." He started harmlessly, though Aria did not miss the way his eyes seemed to scan the whole of her body.

"Just moved into Hogwarts, haven't seen much of Hogsmeade." Aria admitted, but made the conscious decision to turn away from him, hoping not to engage in any further conversation.

"You a friend of Ros'" He asked, intrigued, while downing a good half of his pint.

"Not really, no." Aria shrugged. "I didn't even know her name until just now."

"Rosalind Rookwood." He edged his seat closer to Arias. "Fantastic barmaid, though I wouldn't say it was her best profession." He winked.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Aria turned her nose up at the man, just praying he would leave her alone.

"Well, you know, bein' a barmaids fine an all, but it doesn't always pay the bills. Miss Rookwood's got her fair share of stories to tell, and not all of them her own." He laughed, the potent stench of his alcoholic breath suffocating Aria as he leaned in closer, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders. "If it turns out teaching isn't for you, just know you'll have a loyal customer in me." He hiccuped, his free arm, reaching down to stroke the woman's exposed thigh.

Instinctively Aria gripped onto his wrist, forcing it off of her. "What the hell do you think you are doing!?" Aria exclaimed, pushing the man away from her. "Don't you dare lay your hands on me again."

The drunk showed no sign of guilt or remorse, he simply chuckled to himself, revealing a shocking lack of teeth. Disgusted, Aria made to move but found herself cornered against the bar.

Fortunately the altercation had caused enough disruption to alert the two men having a casual evening drink. Instantly one rushed over to her aid, stupefying the old man. The second man followed suit and made it his business to remove the frozen figure from the bar.

"Are you alright?" The first man asked, his brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm fine, thank you for stepping in." Aria smiled, brushing herself down, as though she was riding herself from the drunks disgusting touch.

The man returned a boyish grin, his eyes bright blue and full of kindness. Aria had never seen anyone like him. His presence was almost cartoon like, with positivity radiating from him. Aria couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, her smile growing just by looking at him. His energy was contagious.

"Is... is there anything I can do to thank you?" She tried your shake herself back to reality though remained entranced by him.

"Nothing at all. I'm just glad I was here to help." He extended a hand, almost nervously, introducing himself. "Alexander Turner, pleasure to meet you."

"You too." Aria blushed, unable to break eye contact with the man, and was now incredibly aware of how dumbfounded she must look. "I'm Aria" She stuttered, the sound of his friend retuning sending her back to reality. "I apologise for staring, but I just can't seem to take my eyes off you, you have an enchanting aura about you. I'm sorry if I may seem a little strange."

"There's no need to apologise, I get it all the time." He laughed, though not arrogantly, it was sweet and innocent. "My mother's a Veela." He added, almost embarrassedly, upon noticing the slightly look of confusion appearing on Arias face.

The couple shared an awkward smile, both at a loss for words.

Alexander's friend passed by the pair silently, slapping him encouragingly on the shoulder before disappearing behind the bar, Rosalind following closely behind.

Aria noted the difference in both attitude and appearance in the two men, finally able to distinguish between the two. The friend was tall and broad shouldered, his hair messy though not long. He gave off a sort of American football, "bro", fratbroy vibe. In other words kind of arrogant and full of himself. Clearly he saw himself as the one in control. Alexander on the other hand was more slim, but not skinny. Tall but not lanky. Innocent but not naive. His clothes appeared similar to his friends but presented more neatly and well put together. She assumed he felt sorry for his friend, knowing his Veela parentage would gain him lots of female attention, and in return Alexander simply allowed himself to get pushed around to boost his friends ego.

With a roll of his eyes Alexander practically confirmed her theory and Aria couldn't stop herself from laughing once more.

Knowing that while Rosalind and 'Braydon'; as he turned out to be, would not be returning any time soon, Aria and Alexander chose to occupy one of the booths and get to know a little bit about each other, where Alex truly confirmed all of Aria's suspicions.

Upon Braydon's return, he flashed his rather large biceps, kissing each one in turn as he flexed them, before letting out a hearty growl, presumably this was a display of male dominance among his kind. His kind being; douchebags.

With another roll of her eyes Aria bid farewell to the men, thanking Alexander once more for his heroic rescue.

"How about a date?" Alex called nervously as Aria had just about reached the door.

"I'm sorry?" She replies, caught off guard.

"A date, here, with me. What do you say?" Aria shook her head unable to look away from that damn charming smile of his.

"I'll agree to a few drinks." She clarified. "Just send me an owl, you know where I'll be." And with that she disappeared once more down the path to Hogwarts, the grey sky above all the while threatening to rain down on her.

Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @lizlil​

[gunsatthaphan]

Wow okay... OG anon here. I didn't realize that my request would actually trigger all of this, be this big of a deal and prompt people who don't even know me to throw shade at me, but okay... Honestly Doreen, I didn't mean to sound rude or demanding, and I hope I didn't come off that way. I understand that 2gether was far from perfect and it was flawed and of course everybody is entitled to their own opinion and criticism and critical thinking is always encouraged, I hope it didn't sound (1)

like I was saying the show was perfect or like your opinion was less than valid. You and your followers obviously have fun with those asks, and I would never ask anyone to stop that, I'm always happy to see you happy :) But just to clarify my opinion towards what other people might think, criticism and turning the show into a joke are different matters for me, and while I understand that the constant shade is a lot of fun for parts of the fandom, it can still be disheartening for others... (2)

But anyway, sorry I asked anything, I didn't mean to sound mean or rude. Forget what I asked, I'll just block the ask tag or unfollow or find another solution, I really didn't mean to start up all of this in the first place and to cause issues. Thank you for being nice enough to agree in the first place, but I don't want that to create any problems with your followers or whatnot. Anyway, love your blog, and I hope you have a good day Doreen :) (Signed- OG anon who is apparently the devil :p)

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

aaah omg anon, I never thought that your ask was rude!!!! And I don’t think anyone else did. Some people just think that it’s not necessary for me to remove my tags since it’s important to address the issues that the show had. 

Which I agree with but I agree more with what you said which was that there’s just generally a lot negative stuff going on in the tags. Whether that’s considered “negativity” or not doesn’t matter. So again, your ask did NOT come across as rude or demanding AT ALL so please know that!!!! I appreciate what you said and I respect your opinion, just like I respect the opinion of the other anons. 

I stand by my choice that I will not tag these asks anymore because again, I agree with what you said. 

And yes, of course it’s important to address the issues with the show but I’m really not the only blog to be vocal about them so of course this criticism will still be spread. Both on Tumblr and on Twitter and other platforms. 

I want this blog to be a safe & positive space for everyone and I don’t want my anons or followers to get into disputes over this which is why I want to put this topic to a rest now. I will therefore not answer any more asks about this. I hope everyone who reads this understands 👍🏻 

Thank you again anon and I hope you have a great day too!!! 💜💜😘 

xxx

[fivesoskingdom]

"You're going to get me killed." gang!Ashton (Golden Star Fanfic)

A/N: Sixth part is here, dear partners. I'm happy that you guys liked the last one, but this one is better, I promise, OK? And please, a beautiful anon said how I could make the "read more" in the app (I don't use computer), so I'm trying. Can you guys say if it works?

Summary: You're finally getting what you wanted: being away from Ashton's gang and himself. But maybe this isn't the best thing right now. And maybe, for a couple of minutes, you actually wanted Ashton as close to you as possible.

Remember: The next chapter only comes if this one gets, at least, 30 notes.

You can find the previous parts here

Hope you guys like it, don't forget to reblog, so I can know that there's someone out there liking my stuff. 💋

Ashton waited for you for about three hours in front of your house, his car parked where you could see him as soon as you got to your street. It was odd for you to see him there since he never show up before and you also realized that you didn't saw any guy walking you home today. Secretly you wished that it was Luke's day because after the hell day you got, you could use a good talk at home with some pizza.

"Last time you were here you were covered in blood. Good to see that's not happening today." you pointed while opening the door.

"Yeah, didn't got any shot in the last month." he said getting out of his motorcycle and going to you, entering your house behind you. "And the shot you took care is the only one I don't have a scar."

"Well, good to know that. I'm not a plastic for nothing." you smiled.

"I wondered about your specialty. Good to know it's plastics."

"Seriously, Irwin?" you left your stuff at the dinner table and got to the kitchen to take two glasses of wine. "Never bother to ask to any of my dear followers?"

"Nah." he smiled getting the glass of you, going to sit in the couch and you followed him. "Wanted to ask myself."

"OK, now that you know that I'm a plastics, what are you really doing here?" This was, by far, the strangest interaction you two ever had. You were sitting on the couch with your legs crossed, looking at him, he was sitting more formally, the glass of wine spinning in his hand.

"We need to talk. And it's serious."

"Please, don't say that the guy I hit wants to kill me. You said you would protect me."hearing that kind of words was never a good thing, hearing from someone like Ashton was even worse.

"He's not a threat anymore." he said and you raised one eyebrow. "He's alive, you just really teached him a lesson and I made sure to teach one or two more as well."

"So, what's so important that made you come here yourself?" you never bothered to turn on the main light, the whole room being illuminated by the little yellowish lights you had, making it all really cozy. Ashton stayed in silence for a while, pondering how and what say to you, you took your time to analize him. His face was some kind of soft, he wasn't looking scary or even mad, for once, a little scar, almost invisible, was near to his eyebrown and you knew it was new. Being a plastic surgeon made you really observant to the little things.

"Listen, I'm not going to follow you everywhere anymore." he started with a sigh.

"Oh my God, thank you!!!" you almost screamed, making him giggle, shaking his head in denial. You could, actually, kiss him because you were so happy.

"Yeah, don't get all excited. Here's the thing: Someone from Noah's gang saw us following you and now we think that they think that you're something important to us, what means that they can get you." now his soft face was worried, his lips were in a thin line. You mind started to buzz and it was nothing with the wine, your heart raced and you felt your hands sweat.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you get up, completely shocked. "You put me in danger and now you're going to leave me all by myself? What the actual fuck?"

"Can you please sit your ass down?" he asked taking a deep breath, looking at you when you didn't. "Seriously, sit." he pulled you, almost making you fall at his lap, he realized that too and took him some seconds to talk again. "Listen, stop screaming." he looks again at you "If we keep following you, they're going to get you at some point to discover why we are doing this, so Calum suggest that we follow you from far, by an app." he explained calmly, his hand never left your arm and you were starting to feel weird with his touch. "Harry, our tech guy, developed this app that will show us your live location all the time, real time. Here." he finally let your arm go to hand you a box, when you open it you see a necklace, it's golden and it has a little pendant in form of a golden star with an little A jammed. It was, actually, really cute. "This is a chip and a button, it shows me where you are any time."he shows you his app, the map showing your location at your house. "You can't take this, are you listening to me? Never. Not to sleep, not to shower, not even in the hospital. Specially not in the hospital." he gets up, going to behind you so he can put the necklace on your neck. "If you ever need anything, if you get in trouble, press the star, it will alarm my phone and the guys as well and we will be able to find you anywhere." he sits in front of you again.

"You're going to get me killed." you say with your voice below a whisper, looking to your lap. "This is insane." all your rage became fear. No, you didn't liked to be followed, no, you never thought it was necessary, but now you were being really in danger, now you could really die because of this man in front of you.

"Listen to me." he makes you look at him raising your face with his fingers on your chin. "You're not getting killed, do you understand? You saved my life and I will be in debt with you for it forever, so if you die, I'll die with you." he smiled at you, a warm smile that maybe in any other situation would make you want to get in his lap and kiss him, but now it only makes you feel sad.

"Why, Irwin? Tell me." you ask with your eyes in tears, your voice may be low, but he can hear how mad you're at him again. "I didn't asked for any of this. Now I'm going to be between two gangs?"

"You saved my life and I can't just let this go. Trust me, you'll be safe." he smiles to you and you roll your eyes, slapping his hand of your chin. "You're way too stubborn, you know that? I don't know how you remain alive." he rolled his eyes as well, completely annoyed by your attitude.

"Yeah, I won't be a problem for much longer, right? Good for you." you get up to go to your room. "You know your way out. Please don't come again, I don't wanna die."

As you started to walk away, Ashton got up from the couch and before he could stop himself, he was already right behind you, getting in your room. You saw him and was about to tell him to go, but he was faster and pressed you against the bedroom wall with his own body. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt him so close, his breath fanning all over your face since he was taller than you. Ashton's eyes were watching everything on your face, looking how you were reacting and he felt a heat over his body when you slightly opened your mouth before bitting your bottom lip. It took him all his self control to not kiss you right the way.

"I don't care what you think about me or this whole situation." he started, whispering. "I don't care if you hates me because I followed you or anything else. But I'm saying this to you: I'll never let anything happen to you." you couldn't stop your eyes from looking all over his face, absorbing every little detail from his hazel eyes to his pink lips. Didn't matter how much you kind of hated him, you couldn't deny how freaking handsome he was. But you always knew that, you knew from the day one, when you were sitting on his lap to take care of his face. Even with blood all over his body, even being so pale that you got afraid that he would really die, even so you could see how handsome he was. But being this close were a whole new level and even though he was trying really hard to not let anything appear on his face, you could read the lust in his eyes the same way he could read on yours.

"I don't know if you really believe in that."you said at his same tone, his lips turned up in a little smirk.

"I never broke a promise, sweetheart. This isn't going to be the first one." he took your chin again between his fingers and he looked directly into your eyes. "You don't know what I'm capable of doing for the people I'm loyal to."

"You never had to be loyal to me, Irwin." you shook your head a little, since his hand didn't let you move too much.

"I did. I do. And I feel that I'll always have to. Each day more." the smirk never got out of his lips. "Be good, OK? You know how to reach me." and then he kissed the conner of your mouth, getting out of the room and letting you absolutely breathless, incapable of understanding a thing about what just happened. Little did you know, that he didn't understood either, that the whole way back home he was cursing himself for the urge he felt of kissing you, more than that, the urge he felt to keep you so close to him that you wouldn't be able to move. Actually, he wanted you to move, maybe under him, on your bed that was almost screaming his name. He thought about you screaming his name and not in the way you're used to. You made him hard and you didn't even touched him. Half way home he turned around, going to the only place where he could solve his little problem for a while, making him smile when he saw the big red neon letters. "Hell on heels."

~

Tag babes: @betkaskarpetka @songforhema @my-world97 @sebshipsstenbrough

[gojoskikufuku]

Absolute Chaos | AO3

Okay guys, actually I intended to share this fic only on AO3 but I couldn't help myself^^. I will most probably post it on here, too. But it will take some time before I post first chapter because I have a Yuri On Ice fanfiction to be completed. You can find summary on my profile, if you want. Also, if you want to see detailed information, tags and so on, you can visit AO3 version: HERE.

And Spotify track list: HERE

WARNING: Rape/Non-Con (Past and implied), Graphic Depictions of Violence (Both of them are on the further chapters)

Words:1175

Hope you like this^^

Prologue

"Everyone knows that you retired because of an injury but you never said what it was. Can you elaborate it, Sousuke-sensei?" Okumura Eiji said while he was taking notes on his pineapple patterned notebook.

"Um," Yamazaki Sousuke paused a little, budging tremulously on his seat. "I don't think this is necessary. You know, it is a little bit personal issue, so I don't want people to know about this."

Upon hearing these words, Eiji stopped writing and looked into Sousuke's blue eyes. Raw pain and haunting regret were all he could see.

Not good, not at all. Something bad, very bad, must have happened to him. This is not just an injury. There is more and I want to figure out what actually happened.

But he couldn't. He was a reporter, yes, but he was working with ethical approach. He couldn't force him to tell about what actually happened as long as he didn't want to say something; especially under these circumstances. This retirement was fairly new and Sousuke never gave an interview about it nobody but him. Eiji was absolutely grateful for this and also pleased because Sousuke must have seen how he had worked really hard to take this interview among all those more experienced colleagues than him; he gave the interview to Eiji, after all. Sousuke let him in, confiding in him enough to talk about his before and after, so violating his privacy was the last thing Eiji want to do.

"Forgive me if I disquieted you, Sousuke-sensei. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Sousuke smiled softly. "Don't worry, Eiji-kun. You're just doing your job. This-"

Sousuke's speech was interfered with a bubble gum pop.

Eiji's eyes went wide just before he tried to flash a scary glance to Ash Lynx. Yes, just tried because he knew he couldn't intimidate him with a scary look. Ash was used to worse things. "Ash, what do you think you're doing? We are in the middle of a very, very important interview."

Ash looked literally unimpressed. "I've been doing nothing but sitting here, sipping my smoothie and listening to your interview about swim life, which is not my cup of tea, for nearly one and a half hours. Also my phone went dead, so there is nothing else I can do. I'm just trying to kill my time by chewing a gum, what's the big deal? Oh, by the way, don't forget that you dragged me in here with you in the first place."

After listening the blonde's reproach, Sousuke rolled his eyes dramatically and started to type a message on his phone, taking advantage of not being center of attention.

"I can't believe you, Ash! I just didn't want you to get bored when I am out, but look at what you've done! You are disrespecting Sousuke-sensei." Eiji said, switching to English. 

Ash was ready to answer in a devil-may-care attitude when Sousuke talked. 

"Guys, I'm sorry to interfere you but I think time is up. I have to go now."

Eiji watched the older man's packing his stuff and wearing his jacket with panicky eyes. "Bu-but Sousuke-sensei, I still have a few questions to ask."

Sousuke offered a bashful smile and rubbed his nape. "In fact, I've already told you everything I could. So, I really have to go because my friend is waiting for me out-"

"Sou! I'm here!"

Sousuke closed his eyes in a huff as Tachibana Makoto wrapped his arms around Sousuke's waist. "-side."

Eiji was in shock as he clutched Ash's sleeve firmly. Light brown hair, those green eyes and broad shoulders... "T-tachibana Makoto?"

Ash frowned. He had no idea about that boy. "Who is Makoto?"

"Just shut up. I'll explain later."

Japan's another swimming legend was in front of him, with all his vigorousness and brilliance. Perfect, he thought. Another Greek God is standing still in front of my eyes. 

"Didn't you read my message, Mako? I told you to stay outside." Sousuke said after flinging his friend away. He was frankly annoyed with his friend's manner.

"Oh, I just want to buy something to drink. Why are you so snappish suddenly, Sou-chan?" Makoto said with a pout.

"I'm not snappish," Sousuke sighed with embarrassment. "Whatever, buy your drink and then, let's go."

Eiji felt a little offended. Most probably, he didn't want me to see their relationship. Being a reporter, also a photographer, is pretty hard sometimes. But to be honest, Sousuke was right to worry because Eiji caught a break and he didn't want to miss the opportunity to ask a few questions to Makoto; in ethical frame, of course.

"Makoto-sensei, can I ask you a few questions, please?" 

Makoto flashed a big smile. "Oh, I thought you are here only for Sou, but... Sure, why not?"

He is a real optimistic. Look at how he changed his mood suddenly. He was pouting a few seconds ago; now he is smiling with enthusiasm.

"Mako, we don't have time. If we linger around, we will be late for cinema. C'mon, we are going," Sousuke said in a rush. "By the way, Eiji-kun, I hope I satisfied you with my answers. If you need help about anything, you can contact me every time. Thanks for interview. Bye!"

He reached his friend's forearm and hauled Makoto towards exit.

"What? Wait for me, Sousuke-sensei. You didn't give him even a chance to speak. Hey!" Eiji shouted and tried to pick up his bag clumsily. "God damn it, Ash! Move your arse, we need to catch them before they are gone!"

"Are you crazy? We didn't foot the bill!" Ash shouted after Eiji.

"So deal with it!" 

Ash sighed furiously. "You jackass!"

Eiji was about to get out from the café when he collided with someone. "Oh, I'm so sor-" 

His apologize was aborted when he raised his gaze to the person he crushed. 

"Hey! Are you okay? You seem really pale. Are you sick or something?" Silver haired, extremely handsome man asked in suspense, grabbing his wrist.

Eiji gulped hard and realized that he was trembling because of thrill. He had already let swimmers slip, but he had another shining diamond in his hands now!

"Is he okay?" 

He turned his head to the other voice's owner. Brown eyes, blue glasses, black hair and confused look.

Of course. Of course he is with him. Everybody knows that Victor Nikiforov and his beloved husband Yuuri Katsuki Nikiforov go together almost everywhere. I think I have two diamonds now!

"I-I'm okay. Brilliant, actually. Thanks." Eiji pulled his wrist back and murmured while familiar melody was filling in his ears.  

Ice ice baby

Ice ice baby

All right stop

Collaborate and listen

"Vitya, do you hear this? Ice Ice Baby is playing. What a coincidence!" Yuuri said with a soft smile on his lips, clinging his husband's hand and caressing it.

Eiji beamed just before pulling his pencil and notebook from his bag. Exactly, he thought. What a coincidence! Indeed... I love coincidences.