#i’m having thoughts but not coherent enough to write a fic so here ya go

[gwendolynnderolo]

just imagining buck and tommy having sex for the first time and buck is doing his normal macho seducer routine cause he’s so used to having to be in charge and tommy just very gently tells buck to let him take the reins and for the first time in his life buck actually gets to give up control during sex and feel taken care of and not like anything is expected of him

just. buck getting to discover everything that comes with being into guys and getting to fully experience that with someone who knows what he’s doing and will both take care of and ~take care of~ him

[meanwaffle]

Comforting Ruby (Diluc x Alcoholic!Reader)

Echoes of the Night (Chapter 1)

☆ Tags/warnings: alcohol abuse, rivals to lovers fic, bartender diluc

☆ Notes: I wrote this back in april! I kinda retired fic writing, but I want to get back into it because it was always a hobby that made me happy.

I have chapter 3 of my adachi fic half way written as well for anyone waiting for that! super excited to share that and this! :) thank you for taking the time to read!

-

The dimly lit bar echoed with the sounds of clinking glasses and hushed murmurs from patrons scattered throughout the building. Some were there to share a dinner with their family, and others were loud with celebration. Yet, in this atmosphere of joy, you found yourself the odd one out.

The purpose of coming to the bar tonight had long left you, drowned in the constant noise and the swirling currents of conversations around you. The air hung heavy with the scent of various liquors, wines, and as you sat amidst the lively crowd, all you could do was let your thoughts attempt to bubble into something coherent before completely vanishing.

“ Ughhh .” you groaned under your breath. How did this happen? You were so drunk you couldn’t remember what was even in your drink, let alone how you managed to finish it all plus several others.

Empty beer mugs were stacked haphazardly around you, evidence to the hours you had spent here. Your thoughts were jumbled and slurred and any attempt to make sense of them ended with an expected failure. “I want more.” The words stumbled out on their own. “I want to order something sweet.”

Charles, who was only a few steps away, turned to face you. The friendly, familiar bartender smiled at you, followed by a firm head shake. "No can do, little lady." With a quick denial, he started to gather the glasses cluttered around you. "Yer already sloshed beyond limit. "

“ Charles !”

“None of that whining. I would have cut you off earlier if I wasn’t swamped tonight. I’m gonna have to find someone to bring ya home.” He glanced around. “and I gotta start getting ready to close. Closing early tonight! Big plans—.”

Despite his words being clearly spoken, you found it increasingly difficult to clearly hear him. The subtle movement of his lips became a blur, and strangely enough, the more you blankly stared at him, the more you forgot what he looked like. The sounds coming out of his mouth seemed to fall on deaf ears as your attention drifted into an abstract haze.

You allowed your head to fall back into the empty air. The corners of your mouth quivered feebly, attempting to form a smile that refused to come to light. Suddenly, your body convulsed as your head involuntarily fell forward and vomit forced its way out of your throat and into some sort of rustic bucket in front of you. The acrid taste of bile and alcohol lingered in your mouth, making you gag even more. Your breath was heavy and you gulped harshly to suppress the desire to puke more.

You were confused, drunk, sick, and you wanted to ask why the bar was across the room when you were sitting there not even two seconds ago. Did you move yourself or did someone move you? Maybe you were teleporting.

As the wave of nausea passed, you lifted your head, opening your eyes to a blurry world. Shapes and colors swirled around you, and you could hear fragments of sentences from other voices. Your head felt like it was spinning out of control, and the sounds around you were distorted and garbled. Then, for just a moment, all the different lines and textures and colors of reality lined back up together to form visuals you could actually understand.

Three individuals you couldn’t make out stood in the empty bar. ‘When did everyone leave?’, you wondered. The bucket in front of you is filled with the remnants of your previous meal, or lack thereof. All of them were talking and still you couldn’t make out any of the voices.

“ I’ll go home by myself,” It came out as more of a sob. One of the figures, someone you knew yet couldn’t recognize, was swift to stand by your side and rub your back. The compassion you could feel from them reminded you of your mother which made you break into another drunken sob. They quietly spoke sweet words you couldn’t stop yourself from ignoring. “I’m– no , I'm fine!” Stumbling through the thick haze of inebriation. Whatever they were trying to tell you wasn’t important enough for you to retain the information. More words tumbled their way out of your throat, but you were none the wiser to what was being said.

Their voices continued to speak, but moments were slipping away from you. Everything around you felt like scattered fragments of a dream. A dream you were enjoying.

-

The shrill sound of bells forced you awake.

You bolted upright unintentionally. The unstable bed shook, creating a wobble which tossed you off the side of the bed and straight onto the floor. Strings of curses escaped your lips, but you gathered yourself and sat on the edge of the bed; burying your head into the rough flesh of your palms.

The events from the previous night were blurry. Fragments of memories were somewhat understandable; only due to the burning shame in your chest and pounding headache. You remember going to the bar and throwing up, afterwards you ran out to go home... then... bricks. Lots of bricks. What was that about, you wondered?

“Oh my god…” you mumbled.

You glanced up and came face to face with today’s chaotic appearance. Your hair was messy enough to represent a rat’s nest. And geez, you didn’t want to even mention the sorry state of your eyes. The unfashionable black circles were darker than usual, creating a sharp glare. If a child saw you, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for them to scream, "Mommy, there's a raccoon trying to impersonate a human again!"

This was a daily thing. Looking in your mirror and pointing out any flaw you can find. Some people might argue it's not good for your mental well-being, but for you, it was a comforting routine. It brought some order into your life, something you could rely on.

You'd even think of ways to fix yourself. A haircut could sort out the messy hair, and maybe some skincare advice from Marjorie could help with those tired-looking eyes.

Yep, with just a little touch up you could really sparkle. Similarly to the ruby ring on your dresser.

…...?

A ring?

There, on the dresser, a vibrant ruby ring laid, catching the light and dazzling in your gaze. The gem alone was huge, but the gold accents made your mouth fall open! Confusion set in like a fog. That can’t be right; for you knew you could never own, let alone afford, such an extravagant ring.

You attempted to think back and decode your blurry memories to figure out how this ring even got here, but you knew it would be a failed effort. You can’t even remember how you got home!

You were left with one giant question. How did this ring end up here?

Oh goodness… you could only pray you haven't accidentally turned into a mugger. If getting blackout drunk transformed you into a thief, your drinking would be developing into a real problem and that wasn't the case! You never drink by yourself so that means you're perfectly fine.

Surely, there was a reasonable explanation. Perhaps you struck someone's fancy and they gifted you this ring as an attempt to capture your favor?

You glanced back over at the mirror. Nope, you've unquestionably sunk to the station of a mere thief.

With your sole concern being speed, you swiftly dressed and tidied up your hair as best as you could. There was only one thing you could do; return to the scene of the crime and figure out step by step what events led to the ring to end up in your home. And god forbid, if you did end up stealing the ring, you were prepared to humble yourself and plead with them not to press charges.

You wouldn’t be able to survive in jail! They don't allow prisoners to go to the bar!

As you power walked back towards Angel’s Share, suppressing the anxiety of facing the consequences of the previous night, one name dominated your thoughts: Mr. Six-Fingered Jose. He was an excellent friend, a genuinely kind soul who continues to uplift you despite your obvious flaws. The best part is, he sings at the bar almost every night. Surely, he must have seen you last night at Angel’s Share and can give you some sort of summary of what occurred.

Best case scenario, Jose can confirm that the only crime committed last night was the embarrassing display you can only assume you provided.

Worst case scenario, he already contacted the authorities and is currently giving them your description.

The building came into view and you swallowed any lingering anxiety as you walked inside. And if Jose doesn't have any information to help, Charles absolutely should. “You’re fine,” you thought to yourself, “one conversation and all this worry will go away.”

The tavern's warm wooden exterior came as a surprise. You were used to the cluttered atmosphere during the evening. The knights dragging their buddies in and out of the bar, the inside flooded with loud singing and lots of beer.

Potted flowers hanged along the windowsills and families seemed to be enjoying a meal together out in the sun. The sight put a thought in your head you never had about the establishment before.

How peaceful. Why would anyone drink at home when they can come here?

As you stepped inside, the interior was flooded with natural light, revealing more patrons eating, chatting and spending quality time in a social setting. The scent of brewing tea and the hum of conversation filled the air, much different from your usual visits. Amidst the lively day-time experience, there was a disappointing absence. The spot by the door, where Jose usually performed, was empty. You blinked a few times, your gaze transfixed, similar to a hydro slime caught in the blinding glare of a sudden fire. A dreadful feeling of idiocy crept up your spine as it dawned on you that the only lead you had wasn’t at the tavern because Jose only plays here at night!

You were so concerned with the sudden appearance of your, or whoever's, ring, that you didn’t take into account the time of day. Jose doesn’t waste his days confining his performances to the tavern alone. He wasn’t like you, he had a life beyond this place, other audiences to impress, and possibly more enjoyable company elsewhere.

Well, the simple choice would have been to walk out and continue your obligation of figuring out the events of last night. But you walked all this way! Surely, it’s alright to stay for a brief moment. A glass of wine is a must, especially in a troubled situation such as this one.

The bar was empty, but that didn’t surprise you. It was always quiet when you first arrived, with people trickling in as the night went on. Besides, it wasn’t like you came here earlier for the sole purpose to drink. You just had a good reason to come here and a good reason to drink.

A sense of shame welled up inside you, with the rational part of your mind warning against the terrible idea of drinking this early, especially after last night which possibly involved theft. But still, your heart rate was skyrocketing and you felt your breaths getting choppy. This ring was making you anxious.

“Just one glass is okay, it'll make the hangover more bearable” you justified to yourself, “and you’re in a stressful situation. It’ll chill you out."

Plus, while drinking you can speak to Charles. You vividly remember him cutting you off, so he might have an answer and you won’t even need to bother Jose with more of your troubles, so going to the bar is actually a great idea. The glass of wine is icing on the cake.

“Now may I ask why you’re here so early?” The words spilled from lips you didn’t know. With an air of sophistication and directness; it was obvious this wasn’t Charles. You had been so in your head about last night causing you to overlook the fact that an unrecognizable figure now occupied Charles's customary spot and, worst of all, was wearing his uniform.

...What intense eyes.

It was the first thing you noticed from the striking figure; deep, fierce ruby eyes. Matching red hair was tied neatly into a bun, adding some flair to his proper appearance. Chiseled facial features, followed by a strong jawline and high cheekbones, you could gather that he was a younger man.

And yet, the allure of his looks was overshadowed by the rude intentions the young man brought forth with his words. His furrowed eyebrows, on top of a glare not so subtly hidden, presented the first ever unwelcoming attitude you witnessed in this establishment.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s noon.” The unnamed bartender pointed his finger towards a clock, not even bothering to look in its direction. He was too busy gazing ahead, seemingly scanning something. Perhaps other customers.

You didn't know how to respond. This rando’s audacity actually had you stunned! What was he implying here? You mean, he could be busy tending to other odd jobs before the flow of bar-goers hits and is annoyed you interrupted that, after all he did seem distracted, but with that glare? No, he's absolutely shaming you for drinking wine this early.

You wanted to scream at him, get over it! Making drinks is the main part of the job and you should be ready to do it whenever! Even Charles, who has kicked you out a few times and cut you off more times then you can count, always maintained his professionalism within the job.

“And…? The bar is open at noon isn't it...?” You fired back, heat creeping up your spine and igniting an intense warmth in your cheeks. You haven’t even ordered yet. Glancing around, you spoke with a bit of huff in your tone. “Is Charles around?”

With a raised eyebrow, he responded “He is not.”

“Where is he?”

“How come you’re asking?” The red headed man stopped the minimal cleaning he was tending to, leaning onto one elbow against the bar and giving you his full attention. “Did you come here to speak to him?”

It was as if you were in an integration seat. “Well, no, I was looking for Jose. Not that it’s any of your business.” With a sigh, you avert his gaze. Eye contact makes you nervous. "But, if you must know, he isn’t here so I thought I'd speak to Charles. Glass of red wine, please.”

The red-headed man crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering and filled with suspicion. Frustration lingered as you tried to understand why this guy would be here instead of Charles. He lacks social manners! Why would they hire him? You didn’t even know they were hiring!

"Why do you need to talk to Charles if you were originally looking for Jose?" he inquired.

Letting out an over dramatic sigh, you sank back in your barstool. “None of your business.” your eyes wandered to the enticing array of wines displayed on a shelf behind the bar. “Just get me a glass of red wine, please .”

The bartender clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Your attitude wasn’t this unpleasant last night."

"Attitude?" You began to raise your voice. Your body was halfway off the stool, preparing to create a scene. However, when the eyes of nosy customers bore into you, transforming your surroundings into a sea of awkward silence. You couldn't help but cringe at yourself as you shifted back into your seat, realizing your impulses always find new ways to embarrass yourself.

The bartender, with an eyebrow furrowed, was still looking at you as if he was waiting for a response.

“Wait, huh?” Your head tilted sideways, “You said last night?”

“Yes.”

“You mean, you saw me last, last night?”

“…Yes.” His lips pressed together in a straight line. “Remember? We talked lots about–”

“Oh my god!” Jumping out of your stool, unintentionally creating the scene you just narrowly avoided, but that was no longer a concern. There was a break in the case! “We were here, right? At Angel's Share?”

"I guess you could say that…" His nose scrunched up.

"You guess?!" More eyes focused on you. Embarrassed but trying to stay cool, you cleared your throat, sat back in your seat, and lowered your voice. "Sorry, I meant—what do you mean by 'you guess'? Did you see me leave the bar?"

His expression tightened. It was strange—every part of his face was tense, from his stiff lips to his furrowed eyebrows. "…You were there. Don’t you remember?"

Why was he acting so weird? If he actually saw you last night, it shouldn't surprise him that you blacked out. "You saw me last night, but didn't notice how drunk I was? Of course I don't remember."

His eyes shifted, but he didn’t say a word.

Your demeanor transformed into a gentle plea for the answer. Initially, the bartender regarded you with a puzzled expression, as if you were speaking an ancient language, confused on why this interaction was taking place.

“It was painfully obvious you were drunk." He finally spoke. "But... to forget the entire night is unthinkable.”

"Well, news flash, liquor can do crazy stuff like that," you snapped, your voice sharper than intended. "Aren't you supposed to be a bartender? Shouldn't this be common for you?"

"This is my first day." He cocked his head to the side. "Surely, you would have seen me before if I was regularly working."

Yikes. You fell silent. After all, what could you possibly say in response to that? He got you good with that one.

If only Charles was here. You hated eye contact, yet here you were, locked in a silent stare with him. It felt like the final round of a staring contest, with a billion mora on the line. First, you wake up realizing you might’ve stolen a ring expensive enough to get you jail time, and now you have to deal with this… "aggravating roach."

"Did you say something?" "Yeah, I said, where's the wine I ordered?" You huffed. "Since Charles and Jose aren't here, and you aren't adding

You expected another snappy response, but instead, his face finally softened. Maybe if he kept it that way, the wrinkles on his forehead would ease up too. “…You were here past closing last night…” His tone wasn’t harsh. "I was here to talk with Charles about business. When I arrived, the place was supposed to be cleared out, but there you were. Head in a bucket. Jose was rubbing your back."

"And…?"

"….hm." He glanced to the side. "Jose walked you home."

Your smile transformed into a frown, the disappointment hitting hard. You had hoped for more—some crucial detail. Instead, all you got was a shrug and a nod, and the vague confirmation that Angel's Share was not the place the ring was snatched. Unless, of course, you pickpocket someone without anyone noticing, but that's absurd. How could you sneakily take a ring, drunk as hell, without anyone noticing? Especially when you were escorted home. The weight of the ring in your pocket felt heavier now, a reminder that you needed to figure out what the hell happened before there were any serious consequences.

He nodded, then turned his back to you, probably getting back to work. But who cared about his job? Certainly not you—what kind of bartender doesn't bring the wine after being asked twice? Whatever. That wasn't the goal right now.

Frantically, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the ruby ring, holding it delicately between your thumb and finger. You leaned forward, showing it to the aggravating roach. “Do you know whose ring this is?”

He glanced back for just a moment. “....It’s yours...?” The bell rang, notifying him that more customers walked inside. He turned over to the side, no longer looking at the ring.

Well isn't he unhelpful? Just loud and wrong. You parted your lips to speak, but then quickly shut them. Even if you knew it wasn’t a good idea to reveal to a stranger that you could possibly be a thief, especially one who asks so many questions for no reason. He absolutely seems like the type to report you to the Knights of Favinous! And yet, he was so quick to answer. It must be embarrassing for him to be so confident in an incorrect answer, but you can’t even point that out without exposing yourself. What a shame, that would have been good payback for earlier.

“That’s was a strange question,” he added, disrupting your thoughts. His attention was back on to you. “Do you not like it now that you’re sober?”

Is he implying you bought it when you were drunk last night? Funny, like you or him could ever afford such a ring. This is at least six months of your old salary.

You tried to think of a reasonable response. “It was… uh, lent… yeah, it was lent to me and I need to return it.” shaky reasoning, though it was all you had, “I’m just having some problems remembering… the wine... where's the wine I ordered?”

The man's lips tightened into a thin line before he pivoted and reached for a bottle of red wine. With no words, he poured the crimson liquid you had been yearning for into a glass. With an indifferent gesture, he placed it in front of you, not even granting you a glance anymore. "Jose performs near the Favonius Cathedral during the day, if you still want to talk to him.

"I'm well aware!" you retorted, quickly and untruthful, but he had already moved on to attend to another patron.

With shame, you brought the glass to your lips, allowing the robust flavor to momentarily distract you from the unsettling realization that this jerk seemed to know your friend better than you.

[otterandterrierwrites]

Trick or treat!

My head is completely empty right now, so idk, tell or show me something you really wanted to!

Also, I'm on my second read of the Vampire AU, which hopefully means the very much needed comments, and OMG IT'S STILL SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP IT'S PERFECT

Ahhh I'm so glad to hear that! Perfect read for Halloween 😁

Here's a treat! 🍬

So, I often don't save any cut scenes from my fics - it's either reworked, and all the unnecessary bits deleted, or just deleted. But with A tactical omission, I was having trouble figuring out where the fic was moving towards and ended up writing stuff that was taking me in a different direction. Thankfully @lajulie24 helped me get unstuck and I was able to write an ending that felt more coherent for the fic!

So, in the old version of the story, Han and Leia kept a running joke that Leia still couldn't understand Chewie, and this is an unfinished trip to Bespin scene that was going to be the ending:

Laughing, Leia pressed her face into Han’s bare shoulder to hide her embarrassment. And because she could.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that I was being so loud!’ she whined.

‘Hey, I wasn’t gonna clip your wings right then and there, sweetheart,’ he said with a smirk, thumb rubbing circles on her hip. She pulled herself back to give him an indignant look.

‘You encouraged me!’

Han gave her a one-shouldered shrug, hooking a leg between her thighs to pull her closer. There wasn’t any closer, but that didn’t seem to matter on those slow first days on his ship as they crawled towards Bespin, when everything between them felt novel and exciting, ripe like summer fruit, ready for them to sink their hungry teeth into.

‘I’m tellin’ ya, it doesn’t really matter. If Chewie’s around, he’ll know what we’re doing. And there ain’t much space for him not to be around, so...’

‘It can’t be easy for him, trapped here with the two of us and Threepio…’ she mused, drawing the tips of her fingers over his chest. ‘We’ll try to be more considerate. I don’t want him to hate me by the end of this trip.’

‘He could never,’ Han promised, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss over her knuckles. ‘He’s actually glad we… sorted this out.’

She gave him a sultry look and pushed her toes down as she stretched up lazily, revelling in the friction of her skin against his, imagining it was enough to strike actual sparks.

‘Mm, so am I.’

‘Matter of fact,’ Han continued, hands circling around her waist as he rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him, ‘I didn’t tell you what Chewie said earlier, did I?’

‘What was that?’ she asked distractedly, kissing the spot where his throat bobbed.

‘Well, see… Chewie says he thinks he's falling in love with you.’

Leia chuckled, pausing to look up at him.

‘Aw, I love him too—as a friend.’

Han didn’t laugh, though he was looking at her with a wistful half smile that spoke of something momentous. Leia pushed herself up and sat on her haunches over Han’s legs.

It had been so long since the last time he did it, it took her a moment to piece it together.

‘Oh.’

‘He also said you don’t have to say it back,’ Han added, hoisting himself up on his elbows. ‘He just thought you should know.’

Leia was fluent in a dozen languages, and could understand a handful more. But, at that moment, Basic failed her. Over the last three years, she’d mastered her understanding of Shyriiwook with Chewie’s help, but she was lost in translation as far as her own heart went. How could she put into words Han could understand the anguished bliss of her feelings for him, the joyful sorrow of knowing them reciprocated; happiness in knowing herself loved, grief in knowing it was ending, it was always going to end, one way or another, the inevitable loss she’d tried so hard to avoid a self-fulfilling prophecy that was coming to pass. The hurt that Chewie’s words caused her; the pleasure. The tightness in her chest that was her own confession pounding against her ribcage; the brittleness of the structure it was holding up, ready to collapse and bury her under should it ever get out.

If love was a language of its own, she was at beginner level.

[aegyo-ahegao]

Hello this is embarrassing but Can you possibly write a Baby boy subby (NOT AGE PLAY) just super subby Felix Spit kink and sloppy make out sessions fic with Chan just something simple or It could be a subby DK with Woozi! If ya have time that is. Also just so we are clear, not a minor, i’m 23. So we cool!

omfg i love this!!! dont be embarrassed lol it's my forte to write self indulgent kpop shit! I'll do ChanLix here but i'll 100% do something with DK and Woozi too! (also I realised like halfway through writing this that you probably wanted more a multiple encounters type fic but i already started qwq) I hope you like it! <3

prompts

“Fine, but… only if we go slow, okay?”

sub!Felix x gentle dom!Chan, spit, praise kink, pre-established realtionship

MINORS DNI UNDER THAT CUT

Felix knocked softly on the door to Bang Chan's room, careful to not wake up anyone else with the noise. He rocked impatiently on his heels as he waited for an answer.

"Lix?" Chan cracked open the door, rubbing his eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Felix swallowed before answering. "N-No. Can... I come in for a bit?"

Chan stepped to the side, making room for Felix to make his way in. Felix sat on Chan's bed with a huff. Chan joined him soon after.

"What is it baby boy?" Chan pulled Felix into a side hug.

Felix scrunched his face in embarrassment, both at the nickname and what he wanted to say. Chan and he had only started exploring their kinks with each other recently but Felix couldn't get them out of his head. Before he'd made his way here he'd just been laying in bed all night, thinking about what he'd have his boyfriend do to him if he was only brave enough to ask. "Um..." He cleared his throat. "Chris, I'm... I'm kinda-"

"Needy?" Chan whispered, placing his hand on Felix's cheek. "It's alright baby you can tell me."

Felix felt his face heat up. "Um, uh." He struggled to form a coherent thought with Chan's all-knowing eyes on him. So instead he gave a quick nod.

A smile curled on to Chan's face. "Good boy." He purred and pecked Felix on the cheek. Felix whimpered at the praise. "Tell me what you want, baby." He creeped his face closer and closer to Felix's.

Felix whined. "I dunno..." His head was already starting to get light and drifty. "I just want your attention."

"Aww, poor baby." Chan said, sickly sweet. "Poor sweet thing, can't even think he's so worked up."

"Stooop." Felix whined again. He gave Chan his very best puppy dog eyes.

Chan chuckled. "I'm sorry baby, you're just so cute when you're all fuzzy-brained." He leaned forward and gave Felix a quick kiss. And another. And another. Chan was right, Felix was getting fuzzy-brained. He could barely form sentences .

"Chan-hyung... Please." He squeaked.

Chan smiled fondly. "Do you want what we were doing a couple night's ago?"

Felix nodded. “Fine, but… only if we go slow, okay?”

"Of course, baby. I could never rush you." Chan cooed. He pulled Felix on to his lap like he weighed nothing. Felix tried not to melt. Chan tapped a finger against Felix's lips. Felix parted them gently, just enough to let Chan's finger slip in. Chan stroked his tongue softly, gathering some spit on his finger tip. He slipped another finger past Felix's lips and moved slowly towards the back of his mouth. Felix could feel his eyes start to water. He watched as a bead of spit rolled down Chan's palm and pooled into a crease on his wrist. Felix whimpered. He could see how enthralled Chan was by just watching the strings of spit as he moved his fingers around Felix's mouth. Chan pulled them out slowly and placed them in his own mouth.

Felix swallowed hard. He didn't think that would get to him as much as it did. "Shit..." he mumbled.

Chan sucked his fingers dry, or at least drier, then pulled them out. "Cute." He hummed. Before Felix could get embarrassed, Chan was already pressing another kiss to his lips. He kissed him again, his movements getting a little sloppy. His mouth started to open against Felix's. When Felix parted his lips in return he was instantly greeted by Chan's tongue in his mouth. Chan swished his tongue under Felix's, enjoying the minty taste of his toothpaste. Felix let out a small moan. He felt Chan smile against his mouth. He took Felix's bottom lip in between his teeth a tugged gently, making Felix moan again. Chan pressed one last firm kiss onto Felix's lips before pulling away.

"You should go lock the door."

[arsonmiss]

haiku | kazuha x reader

been having 5wirl brainrot lately (namely kazuha heizou n’ xiao) so expect fics of them!

content/charas: kazuha, gn reader with they/them pronouns, aether, xinyan, beidou, some alcohol, drunk reader, accidental confessions

You slumped over on your table at the tavern in Liyue, groaning into your food as you held your head in your hands. This was the what, fourth time this week you had avoided going on an expedition with Beidou and her crew? And it was namely all cause of one person.

Kaedehara Kazuha, the object of your affections. The (no longer) fugitive from Inazuma who caught your eye the minute he appeared, and had slowly been catching your heart the same as he stayed. The longer you two spent together, the stronger you felt, and you hated it.

You didn’t want to make things weird between you two. Kazuha was a nice person to have on the ship, and was even nicer to talk to when the rest of the crew was too drunk to form coherent sentences. He’d calmly listen to you vent or ramble about whatever you wanted, and that carved him a special place in your heart. A little too special, for your liking.

And that’s why you were at the tavern. You were trying to eat and drink your problems off your mind, something that usually worked for you, yet isn’t working at all now. As you were trying to think about what to do next, a familiar voice called out to you.

“Hey y/n! What are ya’ doin out here? I thought for sure you’d be with Beidou n’ her crew!” Xinyan called, walking over to your table with Aether behind her, yet no Paimon in sight. Guess he was off babysitting duty for the day.

“Oh. Hey Xinyan, hey Aether,” you said, looking up and trying to force a smile on your face. Obviously enough, it didn’t convince the two, as they looked at eachother and then sat down in front of you, Aether reaching a hand out towards you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, you blowing out a breath through your lips, sitting up and leaning your head on one hand, drumming your other on your forearm. You mused a way to answer without telling them exactly what’s wrong, because even though you trusted then to keep a secret, if Aether let even the tiniest think slip to his flying companion, may Morax help you.

“M’fine, it’s just… have you ever had super strong feelings you don’t know what to do with?” You asked, tilting your head a bit to put emphasis on your question.

Aether gave a nod, while Xinyan placed a hand on her chin in thought. “Yeah, all the time. Sometimes commissions are a lot for me, and the asking for help can get a little annoying… But I never mind it, so I just clear my emotions out whenever I need to fight monsters,” he said with a shrug, as if it was the most nonchalant thing in the world.

“…Okay, ignoring your borderline homicidal tendencies, I don’t think I have the stamina to fight anywhere near as many monsters as you do,” you said, waving on the thought without as second thought, Aether cocking his head at his “homicidal tendencies.”

“Hmm… Well, I normally just get my feelins’ out whenever I preform. Or if it’s somethin’ calmer, when I’m writin’ my songs,” she said, twirling her pick in her hand.

“Writing a song… maybe that’s not a bad idea…” you mused, rolling the thought around on your tongue, an idea coming to mind. Were you the most lyrically inclined? No, but you could write a poem. Kazuha’s rubbed off enough on you for you to be able to do that, right?

“Maybe it’s not! I’m glad I could help ya out, y/n. In exchange, you should come to my show later! I’ll be sure to get you a good spot! And Aether too, if he wants!” Xinyan exclaimed, turning to Aether and giving him a small nudge as she winked at you both.

Aether gave a small chuckle and turned to you, waiting for your response. “Well, I’m down to go either way. You, y/n?”

You thought it over for approximately four seconds before going “Ah, what the hell? Sure, I’ll go. Maybe some loud music is what I need to turn my brain off for a bit,” you said, smiling at the small cheer Xinyan gave.

“Great! Well then, I’ll see y’all at the show later! 9pm, don’t forget!” She said, standing up and waving. “I’ve gotta go practice, but I’ll see you two later!”

You and Aether waved at Xinyan as she left, before you turned back to the blonde, pushing your food to the side.

“So, I noticed you’re off babysitting duty. What’s up with that?”

“Huh…? Oh, Paimon! Well, it’s a long story…”

“Kazuha? Kazuha!” Beidou called, the boy in question snapping his head towards her, almost falling off his place on the edge of the ship. “What’s up with you, man? You’ve been distracted for the past couple of days,” she said, placing her hands on her hips, her body language showing slight annoyance but her face full of concern.

“Oh, have I? Sorry, just… thinking about some things,” he said, brushing off her words as he readjusted himself, moving further back on the edge of the ship, pulling a leaf out of his pocket.

“Hm… If you say so. Just remember, you’re welcome to drink with us any time if you need to get your mind off something. Make sure to tell y/n that too, if you see her. I haven’t seen them in a couple days,” she said, crossing her arms as she turned, preparing to walk off.

“And I’m sure they’re fine. You don’t have to worry about them so much, y’know? They’re a strong person, that’s why they’re on my crew,” she said, holding back a chuckle as she walked off, Kazuha’ face going red. Was he that easy to read? And if he was, did you already know? He tried to brush the thoughts off, playing a tune with his leaf. Xinyan had a show later, right? Maybe he’d go himself…

You were drunk. Not completely hammered, but definitely past the point of tipsy. Aether was trying to keep a close eye on you in the crowd, but man were the attendees as loud and rowdy as the music. He had managed to grab hold of your wrist a couple times, but you got separated by another show attendant almost immediately after. Maybe he didn’t completely get the day off babysitting.

Xinyan, on the other hand, was having the time of her life on the stage, as usual. She was belting her heart out to the music she was playing, sweat rolling down her forehead as fire blasted from the sides of the stage, curtesy of her own pyrotechnics.

Kazuha was off to the side sitting in a tree to get a view of the show and stay away from the crowd. He had learned before this was his preferred way to watch her shows, getting a good view and staying out of the way of any sudden mosh pits that might happen. He nodded his head to the music, closing his eyes and letting the guitar entrance his thoughts.

“Alright, everyone! Thank you all for comin! I hope you all enjoyed the show, and please be safe on your way out! I hope you’ll come an’ see my next one soon! Until then, rock on!” Xinyan exclaimed, striking a cord on her guitar as the crowd cheered one final time, before starting to exit the venue. Kazuha jumped down from his tree, before heading over to the stage, slipping around the back to where Xinyan was.

“Oh, Kazuha! I didn’t expect to see you here!” She said, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him, wiping her face with a towel while simultaneously drinking some water. “Ah, give me a sec, please…” she mumbled, hurrying to make herself presentable as he waved a hand, giving her a smile.

“No, don’t worry about it, I showed up unexpected. I just remembered you told me about this earlier, and I didn’t have much else to do, so I thought, why not?” He said, giving a small shrug as she laughed, stretching her arms out behind her.

“Well, I’m glad you did! Hey, Aether and y/n were here earlier too! I think they’re still here, and we’re supposed to do somethin’ together after this! Maybe you’d wanna come with us?” She asked, tilting her head at him as his eyes widened a bit.

You were at the show? And he’d get the chance to see you after your absence on The Crux? Well, maybe a little after party wouldn’t hurt… Besides, he could ask you where you’d been the past couple days. Everyone was worried about you… especially him.

While he was thinking of a response, Aether came running in a panic, calling your name frantically. “Y/n? Y/n! Kazuha, Xinyan, have you two seen y/n? They were with me in the crowd and at some point we got separated and now I can’t find them! Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have let them drink that much!” He rambled, clutching his hair in his fists as he paced, Xinyan going over and holding his shoulders.

“Aether, Aether! Calm down! Panicking isn’t going to help whatever’s happening! Now calm down n’ speak clearly, okay?” She said, nodding slowly as the blonde followed her movements, taking a deep breath and letting go of his hair, clenching his fists by his sides instead.

“Okay, okay… So, y/n got drunk before the show, right? I told them they should probably just go home and sleep it off, but they insisted they didn’t want to miss your show. I tried to stay close to them in the crowd, but with everyone pushing their way to the front, I lost them. I thought I could find them when everything started leaving, but I couldn’t see them anywhere! I don’t know where they went and they’re gone and I don’t know what to do!”

Both Kazuha and Xinyan’s eyes widened. You were drunk? And lost? That was most definitely not a good combo. Especially if you had gone outside of the city in your state. Kazuha spoke up immediately, blurting the first semi-thought through plan that came to mind.

“Okay, how about we split up to find them? If you find them, take them back to The Crux or Wangshu Inn, if they’ve managed to get that far. We’ll meet back up later to tell each other if we’ve found them, okay?” He suggested, the other two nodding almost immediately. It wasn’t like they had any other plans.

And so they split off, racing off into the night in different directions, shouting your name into the distance.

Kazuha went to the cliffs just next to the path towards the entrance to Liyue Harbor. It was a place you had showed him before, somewhere where you could see the whole city from above. It was especially nice during the Lantern Rite, where you could see all the lanterns float above the city into the night sky.

But he wasn’t here to think about that, he was here to find you. And his heart almost dropped once he saw your form crouched over in a ball at the place you were sitting. However, as he got closer, he heard soft snores coming from you, and he let out an audible sigh of relief.

That’s when he saw all the crumpled papers near you. What? He picked up a couple of them, attempting to make out the scribbled out messes, before eventually giving up, and looking at the one you had fallen asleep on top of.

It was an unfinished haiku. And from the looks of it, a confession. A blush covered his face, before an adoring smile grew, going over and picking up the scrapped pieces of paper surrounding you, placing them in his pouch, and gently lifting you sleeping form onto his back. You were a little heavy, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d have to be sure to tell Aether and Xinyan he found you later. And also make sure Aether wouldn’t start groveling at your feet for forgiveness. That would be awkward.

You groaned as you opened your eyes, still quite a bit tipsy from all your wine tasting earlier that night. You closed your eyes immediately after from exhaustion, and held on tighter to whatever was carrying you. It smelled nice, and warm, and familiar…

“Y/n? Are you awake?”

Hey, that sounded like Kazuha. And it smells like Kazuha.

It is Kazuha, isn’t it?

“Kazu…ha…?” You slurred out, opening your eyes again, now focusing on the white hair and partial view of his face.

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay? Does your head hurt?” He asked, your brain swirling to catch up. What was he doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be with Xinyan and Aether? Last thing you remember was her show and…

The memories came flooding back in. After her show, you resolved to take her advice from earlier and write a poem to express your feelings. After many failed attempts, you eventually settled on one haiku that needed a final line, but you couldn’t remember it.

“Kazuha, do you… my… poem…?” You attempted to ask, words falling from your barely coherent question. He nodded, looking forward again, attempting to hide his blush, not that you would notice in your state anyway.

“Yeah, I found it. It wasn’t quite done yet.

I love him so much.

Kaedehara Kazuha.

And that’s all you had, right?” He asked, you nodding in agreement.

“Yeah… couldn’t think of another line.”

“Well, I think I have one.”

“Huh?”

“And he loves me too.”

He finished your haiku with a blush, the only thing keeping him grounded being the humming you were doing right next to his ear.

“Hmm… Maybe… Wait…”

And your drunk brain finally clicked.

“Wait, Kazuha…? You really…?”

“I do, y/n. I have for a long time now.” He said, holding you closer to him, letting out a sigh at the huge weight that was off his chest.

“Man, really? You should’ve said something earlier… This wouldn’t have happened if you had…” you pouted, Kazuha giving a small chuckle at your reaction.

“Maybe not. Well, at least I know you’re safe now. Now c’mon, let’s take you back to the Crux. Everyone’s been worried about you, and there’s a nice warm bed waiting for you there,” he said, your eyes lighting up at the thought of a bed.

“Oh, a bed sounds really nice… Thanks, Kazu,” you said, leaning over and kissing his cheek, before nuzzling back into his neck, preparing to sleep the rest of the way back.

He blushed at the sudden contact of your lips, letting out a small cough, before shaking his head, forcing himself to focus on the walk ahead of him. He was glad he had finally gotten those feelings off his chest, and even more that you had reciprocated. He couldn’t wait to see your sober self’s reaction to everything in the morning either.

As for the discarded poems, he’d probably just throw those away. But he’d keep that haiku you had finished together for the rest of his days.

end note: my pinky fucking HURTS

also I don’t think this was very good but fuck it we ball

[generalherasyndulla]

For the number prompt, how about 1?

This ended up being a bit longer than just a minific WHOOPS 

So I’m just gonna put the fic under a read more, hope you like it :)

Max was a light sleeper, one of the few "normal" rabbit traits he actually had. Although, in his case it was more of a predator instinct than a prey one, at least that was the prevailing theory. So, naturally, when he heard what sounded like whimpering and sounds of distress at 4 am Max was awake in an instant. He had some theories about the source of the noise but since he couldn’t see any interdimensional portals and the sounds were definitely not coming from inside his head he went with his third theory on the source of the noise. He leaned over his bed to check on his partner sleeping on the bottom bunk. Sure enough, the noise was definitely coming from Sam who was tossing and turning in his sleep. Poor guy must have been having a nightmare, either that or he's come down with a case of some sort of night spasms. Max wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. His brain was meant for coming up with creative and new ways to cause mayhem and destruction (for the sake of justice of course) not knowing what to do when his best friend was having a nightmare. Just when Max was contemplating forcibly waking Sam up, the whimpers became more coherent. "Max!" Sam cried out, still asleep. Max had heard Sam say his name in all kinds of different tones: casual, annoyed, affectionate, etc. This was a tone he wasn’t used to. Sam just sounded... Sad. No, that was too simple a word for it. Upset? No, still too simple. Distraught? Yeah that sounded about right. The normally unflappable Sam just sounded distraught. "Max," Sam mumbled again, in that same heartbreaking tone of voice. "Don’t leave..." Max's eyes widened at hearing the last bit. His next course of action was more instinctual than thought out. He leapt out of bed, not even bothering to properly climb down off the top bunk. Sam was a heavy sleeper so the audible thud didn’t bother him, and Max was used to being thrown and tossed during their normal wacky cartoonish hijinks. Max walked up to Sam quietly, sure the guy was a heavy sleeper but Max didn’t want to risk waking him, and he sat on the edge of the bed near Sam's head. "Hey, it's okay," Max whispered in a soothing tone. Trying to be comforting didn’t come naturally to the lagomorph, but Sam could be the exception. He often was in these types of situations, not that Max would ever say so out loud. "I'm right here big guy, I'm not going anywhere I promise."

Sam, still asleep, whimpered and turned toward Max. "Max..." Max hesitantly raised his hand to place it on Sam's head. After making sure he wouldn't wake up, Max slowly stroked Sam's head in a comforting fashion. "That's right Sam, you're stuck with me. I'm not leaving ya', ever." The sleeping dog visibly relaxed at hearing this. His breathing became less panicked and soon fell into the natural rhythm that comes with a peaceful sleep.

Max made to go back to his bed but then paused for a minute. He turned back to look at his sleeping companion, looking far more content than he did mere minutes ago. If he could be calmed down that quickly whose to say he wouldn’t start panicking again if Max went back to his own bed. Climbing back and forth all night would be incredibly tedious, not to mention Max would never get any sleep himself.  With a smile (that was absolutely not affectionate, and how dare you suggest otherwise) and a shrug for his own benefit, Max adjusted his position and lay down cuddling next to Sam. It was obviously the best solution to ensure they'd both sleep. Plus, he'd get to tease Sam about being a big baby in the morning, making the entire night worth it. Max had a reputation to keep after all.

send me a number/prompt and I’ll write a micro story (or maybe longer if I’m feeling spicy lol) using the word or phrase

[letthefrogsbe]

remember when I was gonna write that parkner fic?

cool so I've decided I'm gonna, but because I cannot write for SHIT and I hate my writing every time I see it, ill just share my outline of what I have so far. its not coherent. sorry. 

Section one: aunt may dies. It’ll be like “it's been 3 months. 3 months since May was shot. 2 months and 3 weeks since she died.”

Something like that idc. Basically this section will base around peter living tony, because he’s not doing well, and he is only 17- which is not actually old enough to be on your own after something like this. Setting is established, with cameos from dr strange (who tony is dating and lives with (yeah bite me, this is my fanfiction i can make it what i want.) it will be made obvious that this takes place after endgame, which also means that tony is Not going to die. I’m not that mean lmao. The avengers are like largely together, there was not as much death in this as there was in endgame. Whatever. Everyone is very nice to peter because they know that for him its either this or him becoming a ward of the state so like.

Section two: harley gets kicked out. His mom finds out that he’s gay (from gossip sources idk) and kicks harley out. Im not going to write them having a big fight like in the moment, but harley will recount what happened somewhat to tony in this section, and then more to peter later in the story. Gay ppl trauma dump, we know this. Okay anywaysss so harley calls tony literally sobbing and like freezing fucking cold. IM SORRY IM BEING SO MEAN TO THEM I PROMISE THEY'LL GET A HAPPY ENDING. Okay. harley explains how his mom kicked him out. Tony asks why, harley says something like “she didn’t agree with my lifestyle choices” like bitterly. Tony is a good person in this (i know, im really taking some character liberties) and he’s in the mood for collecting strays apparently, so he has happy send over the quinjet. He can’t make it himself bc hes in fucking japan or something for the next few weeks,, but. Yeah! Tony also calls peter, who is presumably in bed and feeling depressed. “Hey pete. How ya feeling? Any better?’ ‘Not really, tony. Sorry.’ ‘you don’t have to be sorry-’ ‘damn tony you sound like my therapist.’ “sorry pete, but i do have something to tell you- you know harley?’ ‘only from what you’ve told me about him, but yea. He was the tennessee garage kid, right?’ ‘i mean. Yes. so- he’s gonna come stay with me for a while too- it might not be permanent but it will probably be a bit. He’s about your age, and he just has no where to go (just like u). He’s not going to stay in your room or anything, but with bruce and thor here, he will be in your apartment area.’ ‘okay tony.. Will i have to talk to him a bunch?’ ‘not if you don’t want to- i already warned him about you, so it should be okay. I wouldn’t worry so much pete- you guys are so similar in a lot of ways that i wanted to introduce you two long before he called me.’ ‘okay tony, i trust you. Thank you again for letting me stay with you :)’ (yeah that kind of got away from me)

Section 3: build up. this is a shorter section. Harley and peter are gonna meet in section 4. This section is harley’s jet ride (with an intuitive happy) and harley’s nerves about how he really isn’t worth this (i mean hes pretty intimidated tony sent a private jet just for him) and happy like reassures him. Hes still insecure though. Peter is also nervous bc what if harley doesn’t like him? What if he doesn’t like harley?? Tony did say they would get along, but peter hasn’t really been himself recently, so who knows? Yeah lots of that. I do want to emphasize though- peter is not completely unhealthily coping. Like he has a therapist and he has been reaching out to ned and mj, but its still an open wound for him. Obviously. He still has a sense of humor though, but its to cover these deep insecurities. Like the first month or so that he was with tony, he was reallllyyyy trying to not get close to him bc he sort of thinks he kills everyone around him. Like logically he knows this isn’t true, but he does really think the that non superheroes that he surrounds himself with are very at risk if they know about his spider-man-ness. The only people who know now are ned and mj (may knew too).

Section 4: the meeting of harley and peter. Keep in mind peter has been living in this apartment/area of stark tower for about 3 months now. He actually moved in while may was in the hospital because he couldn’t stand to be alone in the apartment when he knew why may wasn’t there. And um. Yeah. so peter is like comfortable in this space, basically. Also- the reason theyre in the same apartment is because stark tower was not really created with the idea of housing broken orphans in mind, so it only has a certain amount of residential space. Thor and bruce are currently staying there together (although no one really knows if theyre together, or if theyre just best bros who went through some extreme trauma together and are now inseparable. Hmmm wonder if thats gonna come up later) and theyre using one apartment, and happy lives there with his own apartment, and tony and stephen are currently sharing the penthouse, even though thats not public knowledge. Really only the people close to tony know that he’s dating stephen. So. this leaves just the one other 2 bedroom apartment for peter and harley. It has one bathroom, and the bedrooms are connected by a door but theyre pretty big so like. Theres a kitchen, a living room with a fancy ass tv, and a really pretty view (with a balcony bc <333). May died in march, peter got leave from the school in april, and it is now the middle of june btw. Tony is now peter’s official guardian (he was before may died anyways) and now has sole guardianship over him which he has fully accepted, even though peter and him both know that there are going to be times where he has to go out of town bc he does own a company after all. Times like right now. Harley is pretty nervous that tony isn’t going to be there to greet him and that he is going to have to like introduce himself to peter and everything. Cmon, theres no reason to feel like that, he’s the one intruding after all, he should at least be able to handle himself. (<--- harley’s thoughts). Yeah so theyre insecure super cool. A n y w a y s so peter was stressing about harley as he arrived, and so when harley walked in they were both complete bundles of nerves. Harley walks up but knocks. Peter actually jumps (bc spidey sense okay whatever) and goes to get the door. Oh my god these awkward teenagers i hate them so much (i love them). Peter kinda looks like shit, sorry king. He was a little bit crying earlier, then tony called and he switched into stressed out ball-of-anxiety mode. Distractions are good, its okay. Peter opens the door for harley and they like introduce each other all awkward (again sorry) and peter shows harley where he is staying. Harley doesnt really have muchhhh bc he was kicked out and all. He just has a suitcase full of clothes, his favorite blanket, his favorite stuffed animal (yeah whatever bc ofc he does) and his phone/charger. He sets all his stuff down at once. He thanks peter for letting him stay in his apartment and also said sorry. First thing peter noticed was harley’s accent. Stfu. peter asks why harley’s here- ok. Harleys had a long ass day. Too fucking long. He- he breaks down. He tells peter a lot. About how his mom found out that he was gay, and how she told him never to come back. Yikes. Anyways, this is establishing the beginning of their relationship as friends. Peter is there for him even though he doesn’t know him at all. Peter sees some of himself in harley in this moment, even though he’s not talking about himself yet. Eventually harley does ask about peter, and they really just get to know each other really quick. They have these deep scarring individual traumas, and neither has nearly recovered, but they find comfort in just knowing that theyre not alone in their suffering. At least for now. At least in this moment.

Section 5: the next day. Peter and harley spent that whole night talking about what they were going through. Peter said good night at around 5 am (there were no adults around they can do what they want to) and they both got good sleeps. In peter’s case, one of the first solid nights he’s had in a while. Harley was kept up a little longer after peter left, however, because he just couldn’t shut off his mind. It was really cathartic for him to just lay everything out there and for someone to just accept him. Peter told him he was bi, but he was.. Lucky. He had accepting people in his life. May was accepting. God, harley couldn’t fathom having lost everyone in his life, everyone he ever cared about, and still having the heart to sit and talk with the dumbass anxious gay kid who can’t go home anymore. His problems felt so small compared to peter’s, and all he could do was admire peter’s resilience and how he was seemingly able to bounce back from anything. God, peter was something. He couldn’t wait to get to know him more. With that thought circling in his head, he finally went to sleep at oh shit 6:30 am. Peter woke up around 1. Harley at 2. When harley woke up, peter was watching tv and eating cereal on the couch and he just sat down next to him. No words, just sleepy children being sleepy. They stayed like this for like an hour when someone knocked on their door. Enter stephen strange!!!!!!!!!!! Get excited people. Hes just coming in to check on them bc tony told him to, and he didn’t get the chance last night bc he was _busy_. K so now he’s here and hes awkward and he just wants to make sure these boys r okay bc theyve both been through too much recently, and it would be just the cherry on top if they didn’t get along. Him and harley had never actually met before so he like introduced himself and all that. Offered like if they needed anything he was there, and its only gonna be a few days until tony gets back (did i say a week earlier? Im retconning that bc i cannot find it in my writing so it is now retconned). Peter and harley just have to sort of explain to dr strange that theyre getting along gREAT and there is no need for concern….. And peter was even thinking about showing harley around the city a bit that night (something he had not yet told harley, but wanted to make it seem like he was doing well and not acting too depressed in front of Dr. Strange) so dr strange is like yeah !!!!!! do that, that sounds super fun petey !!!!!! and so now they have evening plans

ok ps I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and completely forgot I posted something on Tumblr about this fic idea, and so this is literally just how I talk to myself. was not gonna ever post this but then I decided to because I'm bored. there are more sections but I'm not gonna post them rn because this post is really fucking long already!!!!

[fossilsbitch]

I wanted to write a “Richie and Eddie forget each other but end up together anyway and remember each other when Mike calls” fic but I got lazy after the first scene, but I did like that scene so here ya go:

It had been close to half an hour since the phone had rung. Half an hour since Richie had rolled his eyes, kissed his husband on the cheek, and told him that he would tell whoever was on the phone to stuff it before he took the call into the next room.

Usually Eddie would’ve had at least a little more patience, but Richie had been insanely busy with work recently, and this was supposed to be an uninterrupted night to spend together for the first time in  forever. So, Eddie felt he was therefore being quite generous by giving Richie a full half hour before marching into the next room to ask what the hell was taking so long.

As he rounded the corner, he was surprised to hear no words coming from his husband (who absolutely never shut up usually). It was because of this that he walked into the room with a frown and a “what the fuck are you doing in here, asshole?” before stopping short in the middle of the doorway at the sight of Richie.

Thirty minutes earlier, Richie was in a perfectly happy, breezy mood. He had bantered and flirted with Eddie just as he had since the day they met. When Richie’s eyes landed on Eddie now, there wasn’t a trace of that left.

Richie was looking at Eddie like he had never seen him before. Or, rather, he was looking at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Like every moment up to now—their first meeting, their first kiss, their wedding—was all a lie, and the real Eddie was standing in front of Richie for the first time in his life.

Not to mention Richie was white as a sheet, visibly shaking, and clutching a mostly empty glass of whiskey.

“Rich? Are you ok?” Eddie took a tentative step closer, almost afraid that if he moved too fast Richie would bolt like a frightened animal and he would never see him again.

Richie’s eyes grew even wider (if that was possible) as Eddie spoke, the color in his face draining even more.

“Eddie.” Richie spoke his name like a revelation, and something about his tone made Eddie’s stomach clench uncomfortably. He felt white hot dread wash over him—and he had no idea why.

“Richie…” Eddie responded, sounding unsure. “What the fuck is going on? Who was that on the phone?”

Rather than responding to his questions, Richie continued to stare at Eddie in what he could only describe as pure shock and terror. Had he done something? He didn’t remember doing anything.

“I know you.” Richie finally said, shaking his head slightly as if he couldn’t believe it. “I fucking know you.”

“Uh—yeah?” Eddie looked behind himself briefly, half-expecting there to be someone standing behind him to whom Richie was actually talking. Frankly, he would prefer it. He’d prefer there to be a stranger standing there behind him in his home. Anything would be better than the way his husband—his Richie—was staring at him like he was looking at a ghost.

“I’m your husband, fuck-nuts. In case you forgot?” Eddie continued. Perhaps Richie had gotten some mild form of amnesia between the kitchen and the phone?

“No, Eds, you don’t understand. I know you. Like—I knew you. Before I knew you.” Richie kept shaking his head. It seemed he was trying incredibly hard to form a coherent sentence but was unable to get it out.

“Richie, please.” Eddie came forward, taking Richie’s shaking hands in his own and staring him in deeply in the eyes, trying desperately to ground him. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

Richie opened and closed his mouth dumbly, like the words were trying to escape but were somehow being blocked from exiting. After what seemed like centuries, he finally licked his lips, took a deep shuddering breath, and managed to gasp out one, strangled word.

“Derry.”

And then he turned around, stuck his head out the window, and vomited.

Eddie would have gone to him and helped, but somehow that single word had hit him like a burn from a metal poker that had been resting for hours in a bed of flames. A burn followed by an explosion of memories.

They hit him so quickly and so suddenly that he hardly processed them. But he processed a few of them. There were names—Stuttering Bill, Big Ben, Bev, Richie, Mike, Stan the Man…

The Kissing Bridge. Bowers. The Clubhouse. Losers… something that made his own stomach turn and twist violently. Something dark and sinister. Fear.

And Richie. Fuck. Richie.

An identity crisis. Repressed shame. An awakening. A first love.

Saying goodbye. Forgetting.

Meeting again.

Pieces of a puzzle falling into place.

When Richie pulled himself back out from the window, Eddie was looking at him with an expression similar to the one Richie had first looked at him with.

Holy shit.

“Richie.” Eddie croaked, and his voice was enough to tell Richie that he remembered too.

Richie stared back. He didn’t know what to say. What were you supposed to say after you realized that your husband, who you thought you’d known for just ten years, was actually your childhood best friend from thirty years ago, your first and only love?

“I—so you remember?” Richie weakly asked. He still felt unable to reach out and touch Eddie. Like if he grabbed hold of his arm it would break some spell, and Richie would wake up 27 years earlier to find himself a lonely and scared boy in love with his best friend in a terrifyingly homophobic town.

“Yes—I mean, no. I mean, not all of it.” Eddie shook his head quickly. “But—but I remember the Losers.” he didn’t realize he remembered the childhood club name until he was speaking it, and stumbled as he continued slowly. “And I remember you. And…and something else, but I can’t quite place it. I just remember being scared shitless of it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Richie nodded, sounding out of breath. “That’s about where I am too.”

“Richie.” Eddie was stepping forward now, slowly, cautiously, and speaking his name reverentially.

He took Richie’s face in both of his hands and stared at him, his eyes wide with awe.

“God, how could I have forgotten you?”

Richie smiled weakly. “Beats me, Eds, especially considering how much time I spent with your mother—”

And with that, the first joke Richie had made about Eddie’s mom in close to 27 years, he turned and puked his guts out the window once more.

[blossom-hwa]

Okay I'm super sorry if I'm requesting too many things but I was listening to holiday music while driving home from work yesterday and was suddenly struck by the need for some chaotic holiday/winter shenanigans with the boyz, if that's okay? Reader involvement isn't necessary! Pretty please and thank you sooo much ❤❤❤ -🌻

You’re not requesting too many things don’t worry Sunny!!! I literally owe you everything for half the fics I’ve written in the past year so there’s no way I could refuse, also this is what the drabble game is for!! I hope you enjoy this half-baked bullshit LMAO

3-year anniversary drabble game: send me an NCT/WAYV/Stray Kids/The Boyz member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

(don’t think I've mentioned it but all of these text aus are in the same universe lol)

(also this ended up not being as holiday-ish as you probably wanted.... SORRY)

~

Title: Holiday Shenanigans

Pairing: no pairings, just the boyz being dumb

Triggers: a lot of cursing

~

quick clarification:

papi: sangyeon

angel: jacob

moon scribblez: kevin

new kid: chanhee

starbucks tissues: changmin

sundae: sunwoo

bread: younghoon

the better hyun: hyunjae

the better jae: eric

professional rollerblader: juyeon

foodie: haknyeon

~

new kid: I'm going to commit murder

sundae: who’s he making empty threats about this time

new kid: IT’S NOT AN EMPTY THREAT

moon scribblez: who wants to hear about the cockroach that fucking crawled out of my mop today!!

papi: pls don’t tlalk about it I was scarred for life

moon scribblez: IT’S YOUR TUTORING CENTER IT’S Y O U R FAULT WE HAVE A COCKROACH INFESTATION

papi: it’s not an infestation Kevin

new kid: is no one going to pay attention to my murder

angel: I will! but I won’t be an accessory

moon scribblez: I BEG TO FUCKING DIFFER

moon scribblez: THAT THING WAS HUGE IT WAS MORE LIKE A SPIDER JFC

new kid: I love you jacob

moon scribblez: IF I SHAKE THE FUCKING MOP TODAY AND COCKROACHES CRAWL OUT I’M QUITTING MY FUCKING JOB

angel: love you too <3

sundae: /barfs/

papi: #1 sunwoo just bc you’re allergic to emotion doesn’t mean the rest of us are

papi: some of us are capable of love

new kid: JI CHANGMIN ISN’T

papi: #2 I don’t own the center I'm just the center director therefore I do not take responsibility for any possible infestations we may have

starbucks tissues: I heard my name :D

new kid: sTOP FUCKING TERRIFYING ME WHEN I’M JUST TRYING TO WORK

new kid: IT’S ALMOST C H R I S T M A S HALLOWEEN IS G O N E

papi: therefore take it up with the owners @ moon scribblez

starbucks tissues: but it’s always halloween :(

moon scribblez: I TOOK THE MOP TO THE SINK

moon scribblez: PUT IT THERE AND TURNED ON THE FAUCET

moon scribblez: A FUCKING BROWN SPIDER-LOOKING COCKROACH BITCH ASS C R A WL E D OUT

moon scribblez: AND YOU WON’T TAKE RESPONSIBILITY??????????

papi: I just deal with the parents and the kids not bugs

new kid: it is NOT ALWAYS FUCKING HALLOWEEN

new kid: IF YOU WANT TO CELEBRATE

new kid: CELBRATE C RH SI T MA S 

moon scribblez: time to pin it on ella

starbucks tissues: :(

sundae: now look what you’ve done chanhee

sundae: you’ve made him sad

new kid: I GOT TERRIFIED BY A NUN MASK AND YOU CARE ABOUT IF H E’ S SAD????????????????

starbucks tissues: :(

angel: I think I'm going to head out

angel: I don’t think even I can heal this rift

moon scribblez: well if jacob’s out I'm out

moon scribblez: I have a solution to my problems 

papi: just don’t get me involved

moon scribblez: no promises !

starbucks tissues: I can scare ella if you want kevin :)

moon scribblez: YES FUCKING PLEASE

papi: I'm going to get fired

moon scribblez: maybe so :D

new kid: no one cares about my problems I see

new kid: everyone hates me

sundae: ya it’s bc you’re the new kid

new kid: I exist only for pain 

~

bread: so hyunjin told me to tell changmin to stop using various horror movie masks to terrify him at work

starbucks tissues: so out of work is fair game?

bread: idk he didn’t specify

bread: probably

starbucks tissues: :D

the better hyun: oh what the fuck this shit isn’t normal

the better hyun: it’s impossible for someone to be so cute but so terrifying

starbucks tissues: I'll take that as a compliment :D

the better hyun: it isn’t but whatever makes you happy ig

the better jae: changmin

the better jae: I only ask that you leave the nun mask and chucky doll at home when we have our christmas party

starbucks tissues: well that’s no fun :(

bread: changmin I'm sorry but your idea of fun is very different from ours

bread: Jacob back me up

angel: I'm sorry changmin but he’s right :(

starbucks tissues: :((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

the better hyun: by the way for the party

the better hyun: who’s doing what???????

the better jae: I'm bringing the xbox!!

foodie: I'm bringing cookies !

papi: I'm cooking with Kevin and juyeon

professional rollerblader: yes it’s going to be fun

professional rollerblader: Kevin says he’s going to make a cheesecake

the better jae: can I save a piece for jisung??

moon scribblez: if we don’t eat all of it

new kid: why

new kid: why did I just hear screaming from the tutoring center

moon scribblez: oH MY GOD SANGYEON

professional rollerblader: TAHT WAS GLORIOUS

sundae: what happened

foodie: why do you only show up for chaos

sundae: I only exist for chaos nothing else is worth my time

the better jae: fair enough

angel: what happened? I thought I saw someone fall ??

angel: but I'm across the walkway so idk :(

angel: is everyone all right?

papi: I think I have a concussion

moon scribblez: oh please you just fell off a tiny stepladder

professional rollerblader: can’t believe sangyeon just fell off a stepladder trying to put up a fucking Christmas stocking 

papi: I hate christmas

papi: I hate everything

moon scribblez: the kids are laughing

moon scribblez: I think I'm going to bust a lung

papi: my dignity has been stripped and I no longer want to live

the better hyun: wait juyeon why are you even there 

the better hyun: you don’t even tutor

foodie: ‘does she even go here’

the better jae: ‘does she even go here’

foodie: ERIC

the better jae: HAK

sundae: oh wow amazing their brain cells conjoined into one single coherent thought and of course it had to be a mean girls reference

starbucks: how did this start out with younghoon telling me to stop scaring hyunjin at work

bread: honestly I don’t know

~

moon scribblez: winter break is upon us

moon scribblez: and I can now bask in the fact that I don’t have to teach spoiled rich assholes basic math for two whole weeks !

papi: speak for yourself

moon scribblez: your fault for being center director

angel: I hate to agree with Kevin and be mean but you really did bring that upon yourself sangyeon

papi: want death

professional rollerblader: no don’t die! we need your food for the party tomorrow

papi: can’t believe all you care about is my food not even me

sundae: did you expect anything different

papi: on a regular basis no

papi: but it’s the holiday season

new kid: holidays are a social construct made to force us into the world of capitalism and giving our money to fat fucking corporations like amazon

starbucks tissues: if I could give Jeff Bezos a heart attack with my nun mask I would

new kid: that’s the only use of that mask that I approve of

starbucks tissues: turn around

the better jae: was that

the better jae: was that new

bread: I don't think I've ever heard chanhee scream that loud

foodie: I’m at the food court and I heard that what the fuck

foodie: the build a bear is like all the way down the mall what the fuck

starbucks tissues: :)

bread: I think that scream rivaled changmin’s dolphin levels

sundae: brb still dying of laughter

sundae: I'm so happy I caught that on video

new kid: Kim sunwoo

new kid: don’t you fucking dare

sunwoo: [ 1 video attached ]

new kid: someone’s dying tonight

professional rollerblader: I can’t believe I missed this I'm so mad

foodie: I think the fake Santa Claus looking over in abject horror just adds to it

starbucks tissues: ^^^

new kid: someone’s dying tonight

angel: there there

angel: no one’s dying tonight

new kid: someone IS

new kid: AND NOT EVEN JACOB CAN STOP ME

the better jae: bet changmin’s mask can

new kid: I'm ripping that fucking mask to shreds

starbucks tissues: :(

bread: now he’s hugging the fucking mask like it’s his baby 

bread: [ 1 image attached ]

the better hyun: as I have said before

the better hyun: it is not normal for someone to look that cute while holding a fucking horror movie mask

papi: I've come to accept that none of you are normal

papi: I think it’s best for your sanity to accept that too

moon scribblez: I'm so late but I'm also rolling on the floor with laughter

papi: can confirm he’s actually on the floor

papi: Kevin you give our center a bad name

moon scribblez: I deadass do not care

moon scribblez: you gave me ashley today so I'm giving you chaos

moon scribblez: suck it <3

angel: she can’t be that bad?????????

moon scribblez: Jacob I know you’re an angel

moon scribblez: but you don’t understand

angel: I guess I don’t :/

~

foodie: I'm going into a food coma!

foodie: don’t attempt to contact me for the next twenty four hours peace <3

sundae: we wouldn’t have in the first place

foodie: :(

angel: sunwoo don’t be mean :(

sundae: fine

sundae: sorry hak

foodie: :)

new kid: the power of one Jacob bae

starbucks tissues: he prevents wars with just his smile

bread: all hail the angel

the better jae: *bows*

angel: guys pls

moon scribblez: no they’re right

moon scribblez: he took me home last night when I was drunk off my ass

moon scribblez: a true angel

angel: guys pls I'm blushing :(

papi: can confirm ! I'm sitting next to him

papi: also he made me hangover soup so can confirm the angel bit too

professional rollerblader: honestly if Jacob wasn’t here we wouldn’t have survived last night

professional rollerblader: he de-escalated Mario kart

professional rollerblader: stayed sober

professional rollerblader: took people home

foodie: all hail Jacob bae

the better jae: I thought you were in a food coma?????

foodie: came back to pay my respects to our lord and savior Jacob bae

the better jae: ok valid

angel: g u y s

the better hyun: has this conversation just become an all hail Jacob bae conversation

moon scribblez: do you want to fucking argue about it

the better hyun: no on the contrary

the better hyun: I'm joining

the better hyun: alL HAIL JACOB BAE

papi: amen

moon scribblez: aMen

professional rollerblader: a fucking men

angel: I'm going to start crying guys pls

new kid: NO DON’T CRY

starbucks tissues: Jacob don’t cry :(((((((((

angel: you guys are so sweet I can’t not cry

papi: I'm hugging him now no more crying

the better jae: two bros, chillin in a hot tub

the better jae: no feet apart bc they’re secure in their masculinity and love each other very much <3

moon scribblez: FIVE FEET APART BC THEY’RE NOT GAY

moon scribblez: fuck

the better jae: YOU RUINED IT

the better jae: yOU BITCH

professional rollerblader: didn’t Jacob call us sweet like one minute ago?

new kid: well he’s an angel he sees the best in us

sundae: there’s no best in you bitch

new kid: oh fuck you

bread: great way to end the holiday season ig

[exoticarmyofcrowns]

dilwale | pjm [m.]

pairing: jimin x fem!reader

summary: a trip across europe turns a bit more interesting when you meet park jimin, a shameless flirt with a penchant for trouble. dilwale (dil-wah-ley): [hindi] the good-hearted, the strong-hearted, lover

genre: romance, fluff, minor angst (pining), smut, dilwale dulhania le jayenge!au (this is not a thing but i made it one oop)

warnings: LOTS of pining (god so much pining) / some cursing / copious amounts of fluff / (bad) flirting / banter / allusion to being taken advantage of BUT IT’S FALSE / lots of feelings / lots of consent (bc consent is sexy) / switch!jimin / switch!reader? / the smut is pretty soft ngl / praise kink sorta? (bc come on is it a jimin fic w/o it) / creampie / excessive use of the word sweetheart / thicc!jimin / unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PLSSSS) / tease!jimin / riding / aaaaand i think that’s it??

word count: ~15.6k

a/n: hello ya girl is BACK w another self-indulgent fic hehe THIS ONE’S FOR MY FELLOW DESIS AND BOLLYWOOD LOVERS!!!! ddlj is my absolute favorite movie in the entire world and i just wanted some representation dammit lol this is heavily based on the plot of that movie but obviously with some changes for my own artistic purposes. shout out to @moonlytae​ for helping me decide which member it should be and @joonies-girl-08​ for the fountain scene u guys are the best! as always, a big thank u to @jooniecult​ for ur expertise, u da best! i hope you all enjoy this, i had so much fun writing it!

“Shit shit shit!”

You’re sprinting through the terminal, checking the directory clutched in your hands as you try to both watch where you’re going and find the damn platform you’re supposed to be on. Your friends and you have been planning this trip for weeks now and you’ve already fucked up by waking up late with barely any time to spare as you frantically waved down a taxi to the train station. You and your friends are taking the Eurail across Europe to celebrate your college graduation and you really should have been at the station about 20 minutes ago but you can blame your overexcitement—and the subsequent lack of sleep—for that.

Of course, luck was not on your side as there was an accident mere minutes from the station. London traffic at its finest. You made the split-second decision to abandon the cab, throwing an apology and a few bills over the divider before running the rest of the way. A glance at your watch says that you’re mere seconds away from missing your train and the thought pushes you to pump your legs faster, backpack slapping against your back with bruising force as you attempt to drag your small carry-on behind you.

Turning a swift corner, you catch sight of the platform you’re looking for. The train doors are still open, thank god, but you know they will close any second. You’re not sure that you’re gonna make it when you see a hand pop out of the open doors, beckoning you to grab hold. Figuring you have nothing to lose now, you take it, arm jolting you through the automatic doors just as they slide shut.

Collapsing with relief, you rest your hands on your knees as you try desperately to catch your breath. The latch on your suitcase has snapped open, spilling the contents onto the floor. You curse, frantically stuffing the carrier full again. You don’t necessarily have anything to hide but you’re not really looking to literally air out your laundry to strangers. Speaking of, you remember you never actually thanked your savior for pulling you to safety. You look up, an expression of gratitude on your lips when you catch sight of the person who helped you onto the train. Your mouth dries as you struggle to form a coherent sentence.

To say he’s gorgeous would be the understatement of the century. He’s absolutely stunning, almost fairy-like with his delicate features and mischievous eyes. It’s a direct contrast to the way he’s dressed, t-shirt tucked into sinfully-tight jeans and a leather jacket thrown over his shoulders. His hair is the softest shade of pink you’ve ever seen and you’re tempted to run your fingers through it.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snaps you out of your reverie. You glance up at the man’s face to see his eyes glimmering with mirth and you know you’ve been caught checking him out. You straighten abruptly, cheeks warm with something other than exertion.

“Um,” you begin, cursing yourself internally for how lame you sound, “th-thank you. You know, for pulling me in.”

“It was no problem.” The words come out like a purr and the effect is not lost on you, heart pounding just a little harder in your chest. 

You clear your throat nervously and look away from his piercing gaze. You realize you’re both standing in the gangway connection. The handsome stranger seems to realize this at the same time because he glances over to the door and drops his own bag to try and pry it open. He struggles for a moment before knocking loudly on the door.

“Anyone over there?” He tugs uselessly on the door one more time before stepping away, hand running through his pink strands in frustration. He glances over to you looking a little sheepish. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a little.”

“Ah.” You sigh, not sure what else to say so you remain silent. You go to check your phone but remember that it had died midway through your taxi ride. Flopping down onto the ground, you figure you’re gonna be here a while so you pull out the book you brought to keep yourself entertained and flip to where you left off.

Just as you’re getting back into the story, you see the stranger settle down next to you a little closer than you would have liked. While you can admit the man is attractive, you’re still strangers. You have no idea who this guy is; he could be a mugger for all you know! Okay, that was probably not very likely but you can never be too careful.

“So,” he begins, leaning his head back to peer at you, “have we met before? You look awfully familiar.”

You frown. Of course you haven’t met him before, you’re sure you would have remembered such a stunning man. Not that you’d admit that out loud. “Uh…no?” It comes out a bit harsher than you intend but he recovers well.

“Ah, I see. My mistake.” He flashes you a sweet smile and you return it, albeit a little uncomfortably. You try to return to your book but he interrupts you yet again. “It’s just that, your eyes…”

“What?” you practically snap. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Nothing,” he simpers, eyes boring into yours. “They just remind me of someone.”

“Oh? Who?” The beginnings of a sneer are curling at the corners of your mouth but you manage to bite it back. You cannot, however, keep the impatience from leaking into your tone.

“My mother,” he answers back, gaze turning fond if not a little dreamy. “Her eyes are just like yours, soft and warm and—”

“Listen, that’s very sweet and all but I’m just trying to get back with my friends so if you could, just please leave me alone?” You’re trying really hard not to get tight with this guy but you know his type—pretty boys with an agenda. This trip is for you and your girls and you’re not about to let some schmuck ruin it for you.

He raises his arms in a gesture of defeat. “Alright, alright. I was just trying to break the ice. No need to worry.” Settling back against the wall, he tips his head back to close his eyes and you relax slightly.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift uncomfortably but choose to ignore him in favor of your book. 

“Excuse me, are these…?” You feel a nudge against your arm and you frown, directing your attention back to him.

Dangling from his fingers is a thong. Your thong, to be exact. 

A gasp of mortification tears itself from your throat as you rip the offending garment from his grasp, rushing to shove it back into your backpack. The man has the nerve to laugh at your embarrassment.

“I thought so,” he chuckles, a dangerous smirk curving at the corners of his plump lips. Even his mouth is a pretty pink. You catch yourself staring again and quickly curse yourself, pushing yourself further against the wall of the gangway and away from him.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a black lace kind of girl.”

You whip around to fix him with your most annoyed glare. The fuck was wrong with this guy? “Excuse me?”

He’s still wearing that insufferable smirk and you have to fight the urge to slap it off his stupid face. “It’s just…you seem so pure. Sure that ain’t a little out of your league, sweetheart?” 

Mouth agape, you can’t even formulate a proper response to that. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business?”

You congratulate yourself a little when you see his eyes widen fractionally, clearly taken aback by your response. Serves him right, creepy bastard. He drops the subject and you raise your book again to resume reading, albeit with a bit more force than necessary. You can hardly focus on the words, too caught up on the last few minutes to read properly. 

You’re halfway through a mental smackdown of Cotton Candy Headass when you feel something making its way into your lap. Startled, you look down only to see the little gremlin squirming his way into your space and under your book. You shoot him an incredulous look, unsure whether to laugh at the sheer gall or scream in his face. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” He smiles disarmingly bright and you would be entranced if you weren’t so annoyed. “I was just curious to see how you could read a book upside down. Very interesting style!”

You glance at the way you’re holding your book, face warming at the realization that you were in fact holding it upside down. Fuck.

“Alright, jackass,” you begin, pushing against his shoulders in an effort to dislodge him from your lap, “enough is enough—”

Just then, the cabin door slides open revealing one of your friends. You and Cotton Candy Creep turn your heads to your friend at the same time. Your friend raises a brow at you in a silent question.

“___? What are you doing here?” You sigh, opening your mouth to answer her, but a low voice beats you to it. 

“Why hello there, my dear. Did I keep you waiting?” Picking yourself up from the ground, you roll your eyes as you gather your bags. First you, now your friend? This guy doesn’t give up.

“I was scared you had missed the train.” Your friend, Sheena, says the words to you but is looking at your strange companion, eying him up like she wants to devour him. 

“Oh, not to worry, darling, I caught it just in time.” He sidles up next to Sheena, leaning against the wall with one arm.

“Good, I was…worried.” She twirls a lock of hair around her finger and you have to remind yourself that you love your friend more than you want to throttle her at this moment.

You sling your backpack across your shoulders before picking up your suitcase. If you had gotten the chance to eat breakfast this morning, you’re sure you would have thrown it up already.

“By the way, what’s your name?” He holds a hand out like a gentleman, as if he weren’t just commenting on your lingerie not ten minutes ago.

“Sheena…” 

“Park Jimin, at your service” he returns, grasping Sheena’s proffered hand to kiss the back of it, and you decide you’ve finally had enough.

“Oh, Sheena~” you sing-song, wiggling your fingers in a mock wave. “I’m over here. Shall we go?”

She has the decency to look sheepish as she turns to you, reaching out for  your arm so she can pull you to her side.

“Allow me.” Jimin, the little imp, slides the door open with a flourish, sending a last wink at your friend. You usher your friend through before she can get another word in edgewise. As you step through the door, you make sure to knock his knees as hard as you can with your suitcase, taking pleasure in the hiss of pain that escapes him.

As the door shuts behind you, you can’t help but mutter, “I hate men.”

“___, come on! Are you ready?”

You have just finished placing the finishing touches on your makeup when Sheena calls you from the bedroom. Sending one last appraising look, you deem yourself ready and make your way out of the bathroom.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you chuckle, throwing your small purse over your shoulder. “Let’s go!”

Grabbing your other friends, your small group makes its way down to the lobby. The hotel is having a party sponsored by Eurail in the middle of Paris and you can’t help but feel a little excited. You’re having a great time so far, surrounded by your girls, in the city of love no less, and you feel giddy at the thought of what’s to come.

You follow the directions on the invitation and find yourselves in a ballroom located in the back of the hotel. The doors open and the sight that greets you is—

Underwhelming.

The room is dotted with tables and waiters traverse the space, glasses full of bubbling liquid balanced skillfully on trays. It’s almost unnervingly silent as a drab opera singer sings on what you think is actually a dance floor that has been repurposed into a stage. You exchange wary glances with Sheena and the other girls before making your way through the cluster of tables and settling on one closest to the bar and furthest from that damned opera singer.

“Oh god, this party is so boring,” Sheena whines beside you, picking up a menu and flicking through it.

“I told you it would be,” one of your other friends, Jennie, pipes up.

“Yeah well, you also said that the train would get into an accident, the hotel would burn down, and we’d be poisoned by the food so forgive us if we were inclined to ignore your premonitions.” You roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your foot to let her know you were joking,

“Hey, hey, ___. Look.” Sheena shakes you as you scan the appetizers, prompting you to look up to where she’s pointing at the entrance. “It’s your loverboy. And he brought friends.”

“Oh crap,” you whine, whipping back around and sinking lower in your seat. You hope he hasn't seen you.

“‘Loverboy’?” Jennie asks with a frown.

“I found him curled up in ___’s lap when I went looking for her.” Sheena smirks at you while you try to melt into the floor.

“Shut up, Sheena, you know it wasn’t like that. Especially considering the fact that the two of you started flirting right in front of me.”

“Oh. come on. Lighten up, it was only a bit of harmless fun. I wouldn’t dream of taking your man.”

You splutter. “He’s not my anything—”

“Hey! We should invite them over!” Jennie smiles obliviously. You love the girl to death but sometimes she can be a bit…airheaded.

“That is a great idea, Jen,” Sheena shoots you a devious look and before you can stop her, she’s already flagging the group over. You wish the earth would open and swallow you up—better yet, take both you and Sheena so you can have the pleasure of throttling her yourself.

The boys make their way over to you before you can think of an escape plan and you stare resolutely at your menu in an effort to block them out.

“Hi, Sheena.” His voice is just as soft and seductive as you remembered and it sends a familiar heat flashing across your skin but you quickly stifle it. He looks good, you notice begrudgingly. He’s wearing black slacks and a black blazer with a white t-shirt to give a casual vibe. He’s topped off the look with pink tinted glasses that make him look like some celebrity. You think it would be pretentious if it were anyone else but unfortunately, he makes it work. The slacks hug his legs almost sinfully tight, highlighting the strong muscles of his thighs and the rounded curve of his— 

Snap out of it! You abruptly stop your scrutiny there, shoving your face back into your menu. You will not let him affect you like he did in the train. You won’t. Still, you can’t help sneaking a glance over to him only to find he’s already staring at you. “Hello, sweetheart.” He shoots you a devastating smile along with a wink and you sneer, abruptly turning away.

“Hey, Jimin.” Sheena simpers and she’s laying it on a little thick, you think, but you know it’s all for show. “Who’re your friends?”

“Ah, this is Jung Hoseok and Jeon Jeongguk.” Jimin points first to a young man with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and then to a slightly younger man whose eyes and nose crinkle cutely as he waves in greeting. The three of them are stunning and you’re left wondering how all the attractive people seem to find each other.

Birds of a feather, you suppose.

The boys make themselves comfortable at your table and you try your best not to grimace. Jimin may be an asshole but the other two have done nothing wrong. You actually quite like them. You’re enjoying listening to a story about the time they got kicked out of a karaoke bar when you overhear parts of another conversation happening across the table.

“You know, Sheena, I think I’ve seen you before.” Jimin is leaning close to your friend as if they are sharing some sordid secret. An unknown emotion churns in your stomach.

“Oh, really? What makes you say that?” 

“Your eyes. They remind me of someone.” You stiffen. Now, there’s a familiar line. The nerve of this bastard, reusing pick up lines? How much more pathetic can you get? You clear your throat, trying to appear interested in your conversation with Jeongguk and Hoseok while also keeping tabs on your friend.

“Oh? Whose?”

Jimin has a coy smile curving the corners of his plump lips. “My mother.”

Sheena coos at his words and you can’t bear to hear any more. You stand up abruptly, glasses clinking on the table with the force of your exit. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” you murmur to no one in particular and stalk over to the bar. You’re craving the burn of a shot or even the dim haze of wine but you abandon those notions in favor of a water, flagging down the bartender. You chug it a little desperately, relishing in the cooling effect as the water tempers the annoyance you feel for your unwelcome companion. Taking a deep breath, you push away from the bar and make your way back to the table where you find Jeongguk and Hoseok complaining about the music choice.

“I’m just saying, this party could be bumpin’ if the music wasn’t shit.” Hoseok glances over at the poor woman singing her heart out on the dance floor. 

Jeongguk sits up suddenly, a devious smile lighting up his face. “Let me see what I can do. Come with me.” He grasps Hoseok’s arm as he gets up, hoisting the man out of his seat.

“Where’re you going?” you ask Hoseok but he looks just as lost as you do. The younger man tugs at his arm, dragging him off to the other side of the room.

“Beats me.” Hoseok shrugs and he disappears with Jeongguk in the sea of waiters and tables.

You’re left a little dumbfounded as the pair leaves you but you shrug it off. You try to enjoy the evening before remembering that Jimin is currently flirting his way into your friend’s pants and your mood sours once again. Just as you’re in the middle of planning your escape, the lights dim and a voice comes on the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you recognize the voice as Hoseok’s and you can’t help but laugh in disbelief. “We are now going to progress to some beats that are a bit more…exciting. Ready, set, and begin!”

A song with a heavy bass and a pleasing trap beat bleeds from the speakers and the room seems to buzz with life all at once. A few squeals and cheers fill the air as people rush to the dance floor at the center and begin dancing wildly. You laugh, shocked that the boys managed to liven up this party in a matter of minutes.

They walk back over to your table with self-satisfied smirks on their faces. You smile widely at them as they approach. “That was awesome! How did you manage that?”

“I just hacked into the speaker system and synced up my music playlist.” Jeongguk looks rather bashful but still proud as he flashes you a sweet smile.

“Shall we dance, then?” Hoseok bows with a flourish and you giggle fondly, nodding excitedly. You glance over your shoulder and spot Sheena still with Jimin except now he has his hand out in a question and she takes it before following the pink-haired man to the dance floor. 

You don’t feel so good anymore but you’re determined not to let some prick ruin your night. So, you turn back to the boys resolutely and lead them into the throng of writhing bodies.

Jeongguk and Hoseok, you quickly learn, are incredible dancers. The power with which the two of them move is truly a sight to behold and you’re having a hard time keeping up. You manage to have a good time, though; when Jeongguk sees you struggling, he strikes a ridiculous pose and makes up the silliest moves, making you laugh merrily. 

Unfortunately, you can’t keep your gaze from flitting over to Jimin and Sheena every so often. They seem to be getting awfully close, you think as Jimin pulls your friend close to him and the sight is almost too much. Why, you’re not sure and you don’t want to let yourself think about it. You thought you were being discreet about it but Hoseok seems to notice your shift in demeanor.

“You’ve been moping for the past few minutes now.” He nods at something over your shoulder and you know exactly what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you go ask him to dance?”

Your eyes flicker back to the happy couple of their own volition and you spot Sheena leaning up to whisper something in Jimin’s ear. You wish you were anywhere but here.

“What? No, I— That’s not…no,” you finish lamely, knowing full well that was not the least bit convincing but not finding the will to care. Hoseok looks unimpressed and you’re about to reassure him when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“May I cut in?” The velvety smooth voice caresses your skin and god you wish he’d stop appearing everywhere. You’re almost rendered speechless as you stare into Jimin’s eyes, soft and playful with an undercurrent of mischief that both intrigues and irritates you. You glance at Jeongguk and Hoseok but they merely share a look, smirking at each other as they not-so-subtly back away from the two of you. Left with no other option, you gently sway to the beat of the song, allowing yourself to fall in rhythm with Jimin.

It’s awkwardly silent for the first few moments before Jimin finally pipes up.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He steps minutely closer to you and all you can see is Sheena pressed up against him as she whispers in his ear. An inexplicable anger flashes through you.

“Why do you make it so easy to hate you?” you fire back.

Jimin raises a brow at your tone but otherwise shows no outward reaction to your hostility. It only serves to irritate you further.

Just to make matters worse, he starts laughing. It’s a soft, tinkling sound and you hate how much you like it. “I think I know why.”

“You don’t know shit,” you spit, fists clenching at your sides. You have half a mind to smack him right there on the dance floor but you know it would only cause a scene. That’s the last thing you need on this night from hell.

Suddenly, he grasps your waist and spins you around so that your back is pressed to his front. You try to squirm away but he’s surprisingly strong, keeping you locked in place with one hand around your waist and the other caressing up the length of your body. You tremble as he begins to sway.

“I think you like me.” The words are nothing but a whisper, soft breaths fanning out across your skin and creating goosebumps in their wake. The music has slowed significantly and you can feel the bass reverberating through your chest.

“L-Like hell I do!” You curse internally at the way your voice stutters but he merely laughs, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Then why can I feel you shaking?” Jimin guides your hips with his, coaxing your body to move according to his whim. You feel him along every dip and curve to the point you’re not even sure where he ends and you begin. It’s sensual and dizzying and ridiculously sexy.

“Because I can’t stand the feeling of your hands on me.” You’re desperate to hold onto some shred of your dignity, no matter how slim,  but then you feel the tip of his nose glide up the length of your neck and your brain short-circuits. You only just manage to reign in the urge to bare yourself to him, to submit, but you’ll be damned if you let him have any more control over you.

“Then why haven’t you pulled away yet, hmm?” You swear you feel his lips brush your shoulder and your eyes slip closed of their own accord. “I’m not even holding you anymore.”

It takes a second for his words to register but when they do, it’s as if he’s dumped a bucket of cold water over you. Your eyes snap open as you realize his arm is no longer holding you in place but merely draped across your middle in a loose embrace. You could pull yourself free if you just moved slightly forward. 

You’re not even sure when that happened and you know he knows this. This is just a game to him and you? You’re just another plaything at his disposal. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you practically rip yourself away from Jimin as if you’ve been burned.

“I-I have to go.”

“Wait—” Jimin starts to say but you don’t wait around long enough to hear him out. You’ve seen and heard enough for one night,

Grabbing your purse, you all but run out of the ballroom, barely remembering to shoot Sheena a text that you were heading back to the room early. Tears sting at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, especially not over the likes of Park Jimin. He’s nothing more than a pathetic excuse for a man looking for a quick lay. He’s not worth it, you desperately try to remind yourself.

But somehow, as you wait for the elevator, as you feel the ghost of his touch on your waist and the soft caress of his breath on your skin, your heart refuses to believe that as the truth.

It’s been 3 days since what you’ve deemed as The Incident, and you’re happy to report that you have yet to see Park Jimin.

Of course, you’ve seen him—you’re on a tour together after all—but you’ve made it a point to actively ignore him any chance you get. Sometimes you’ll run into Hobi (as he’s reminded you numerous times to call him) or Jeongguk and talk to them for a while but you don’t linger too long, for fear he’ll just pop up out of nowhere. You feel bad because you genuinely like the other boys but every time you catch sight of Jimin’s pink cotton candy head, your heart beats a little faster and your skin runs a little warmer and you just can’t handle that headache right now.

The Eurail train has stopped in a quaint little town on the way to Zürich and you decide to take the opportunity to stretch your legs. Besides, the sooner you get off the train, the less likely you’ll have an encounter with the object of your (des)ire.

Stepping down gently, glance around the station and spot a little road that leads further into the town. You don’t really have a destination in mind, figuring you’ll just walk for a little and then make your way back. You walk until you spot a quaint little souvenir shop and decide to check it out.

A familiar head of pink by the cashier makes you pause in the doorway and you nearly turn around to walk right out but he sees you and calls you over.

“___! Come over here, I need your help.”

You shift from foot to foot. You could just ignore him and continue on your way but the guilt that would follow would be unbearable. So you swallow your pride and make your way over to him, silent and cautious.

As you approach, you see him pouring over a small spread of trinkets. They’re little handmade pieces of jewelry—rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. They’re quite cute and would normally have you grinning and cooing but your present company puts a bit of a damper on that for you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he begins nonchalantly. He doesn’t look up as you approach and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed or grateful.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, I’ve been…busy.”

Jimin looks at you then, a single brow raised that tells you he doesn’t believe you, which is fair. You don’t even believe you. “We’re on a tour of Europe together. What could you possibly be doing?”

You don’t really have an answer for that so you remain silent.

“Okay, nevermind that,” his voice brightens up significantly and you’re marginally grateful for the fact that he’s changing the subject. “Help me pick out a souvenir to take back home!”

A smile plays around the corner of your lips and you quickly bite it back. You will not be endeared by him. Your eyes catch on a small bracelet and you can’t help but fall in love instantly. It’s a delicate gold chain threaded with beautiful black pearls, a small pink flower resting on the end near the clasp. Your lips part as you stare at it for a little too long and you quickly snap yourself out of it to look back at Jimin. He’s already staring at you with a soft look in his eyes. The expression makes your heart clench so you look away, clearing your throat again.

“I-I don’t know,” you dismiss, glancing out the window where you can just barely make out the train. “Just pick something, we’ve gotta get back to the train soon.”

“Alright, alright. Calm down, sweetheart. Gimme two minutes.”

You check your phone impatiently, noting the time. The conductor had said you were stopping for about half an hour before you would be on your way again. You don’t remember the exact time you stopped but you know it’s getting close to the time you should be leaving.

“Sweetheart, can you come here a second? I always forget which coins are which.” Jimin beckons you over, a collection of francs in his palm and you send another despairing glance at the train.

“Jimin, I have no clue but come on, we’ve gotta go!” 

You decide to stop waiting on his slow ass and run out of the shop. You make it to the platform just in time to see the train pulling away. Jimin takes a bit longer than you, practically having to sprint after you, but he stops abruptly as he notices the retreating train. 

He starts to laugh in disbelief and you can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes. All your luggage and most of your money is on that train. And now you’re stranded out here, with Park Jimin no less. You try to hold back but you feel a few tears slip down your cheeks as the train disappears from view.

Jimin seems to notice your distress because he begins to panic a little himself. “S-Sweetheart, come on. It’s okay! Look, at least you’re not alone. I’m here with you!”

That only makes you cry harder, a small sob escaping your lips as you smother your face between your hands. Jimin falls silent, unsure how to handle your emotional display but doesn’t leave your side. It’s both comforting and confusing.

It takes a few minutes but you eventually regain your composure, adamant in avoiding Jimin’s probing gaze. You can’t believe you cried in front of him like a child. You’re embarrassed and annoyed and tired but you channel that energy into fixing yourself up to look like a functioning human being and marching over to the ticket booth and finding out the next train to Zürich. Just your luck, the next train isn’t until tomorrow morning. You quickly text your friends what happened, letting them know you’re safe and that you’ll meet them in Zürich tomorrow afternoon. You sigh, wondering how what should have been an exciting trip turned into such a mess.

“So what’s the damage?” Jimin asks. Oh, right. That’s how. You fight not to roll your eyes as you relay the information. “Oh, that’s no problem! We can just—”

“Oh no,” you cut him off abruptly, seething with annoyance. He thinks you want to spend any length of time with him after he made you both miss your train? Not a chance. “We are not  doing anything, I am going to find my own way to Zürich. You’re the reason we’re stuck here in the first place. I want nothing to do with you.”

Jimin looks taken aback but then his expression hardens. “Listen here, sweetheart, I know you’re pissed but you’re being a bit of a bitch. I’m sorry I made us miss the train but splitting up is the literal worst thing we could do right now. This is not to patronize you but you are a woman alone in a foreign country, I’m not about to abandon you just because you don’t like me. Now let’s just play nice and try to find a place to stay for the night so we can catch the first train out of here and be on our merry way. Deal?”

You blink, surprised by the force of his outburst. Fuck. He’s right. You know he’s right and the wave of shame that overtakes you is well-deserved. You duck your head, thoroughly chastised, and nod at him, following his lead as he turns around and begins walking back in the direction of the town. Glancing at him timidly, you murmur a soft apology.

He turns his head in your direction but doesn’t look at you. “What was that?”

You huff, squaring your shoulders. “I’m sorry, okay? You were right.”

Jimin looks at you then, a blinding smile on his face and you feel your body relax a little. At least he’s not mad at you. 

“No problem, sweetheart. Things like this happen. We just gotta make the most of it.” He falls in step with you so that you’re no longer trailing slightly behind and the gesture warms your heart just a bit.

“Why do you keep calling me sweetheart?” You thought it was just a cheap way to endear himself to you, especially back when he didn’t know your name but the way he says it doesn’t feel gross. It feels almost…nice.

“Oh, uh,” Jimin rubs the back of his neck a little shyly, the beginnings of a blush staining his cheeks, and you can’t help the swell of affection. “Sorry. It just kinda…stuck?”  

“No, it’s…it’s fine.” You look away, suddenly finding the scuffed material of your shoe very interesting.

Clearing his throat, Jimin forces out a gruff, “Good,” and the two of you fall into a companionable silence. 

Eventually, you stumble across a small inn a little ways into town, about a 25 minute walk from the train station. Jimin ducks inside, asserting that he’ll handle the cost of the room to make amends. You try not to smile after him as he leaves.

Key in hand, Jimin leads you to a small but cozy room on the third floor. It’s very quaint, a single bed dominating the room with an old settee off by the window. There’s even a small fireplace and a tea set. You slip your purse off your shoulder as you settle near the mantle.

“Wow, what a cute room!” Sitting on the couch, you marvel at its soft texture. “Where’s yours?”

“Yeah, about that…” Jimin hasn’t really moved from his spot by the door, rubbing at his neck again in what you recognize as a nervous tick. “This was the only room they had so, uh, we gotta share?”

“What?” You blink, hoping that he’s joking. 

“I-I know that it sounds weird but there really was no other option. I’ve already decided to sleep on the couch and you can—”

“Listen, I am fine with sticking together and getting back to our friends but this is just— I can’t…I can’t share a room with you.” You stand up abruptly but you don’t have any idea what to do with yourself.

“Why not?” Jimin seems confused and honestly, you are too. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, especially since you’ve kinda-sorta made up but this is little more than you can handle.

Glancing at him, you shake your head, words failing you. How can you explain that you just feel too much for him to be comfortable around him? How do you tell him that you’re having second thoughts about him being a total pain in the ass or about the stutter in your heart whenever he so much as glances at you? You can’t so you just send him a helpless look before storming out of the room, a flush on your cheeks and a heaviness in the pit of your stomach.

You don’t know where you’re going but anywhere is better than in there with the man that forces you to confront your feelings. Shaking your head, you figure you’ll explore the town a little. You could use the fresh air.

Jimin doesn’t know what else to do.

He’s willing to admit he fucked up with you at that party. He never should have come on that strong but you had looked so beautiful and, even though they were his friends, seeing you with Hobi and Jeongguk had ignited such a strong feeling of jealousy that he was helpless to do anything but whisk you away in his arms. He had spent that night tossing and turning in his bed. Now that he knew what you felt like in his arms, his mind refused to think of anything else.

But then you had run away and Jimin knew that he had crossed a line. He just wanted to tease you, maybe fluster you a bit, but never had he wanted to scare you off. You intrigued him. You were funny and sweet—to your friends at least—and it was quite fun to fluster you with his charms. He knew it was simply a physiological reaction, having nothing to do with any actual attraction to him as a person, but he was willing to take what he could get from you.

That, as it turns out, is absolutely nothing.  He thought he was making progress with you. First and foremost, he realized at some point, he wants to be your friend. He enjoys your company and likes your attitude. It doesn’t hurt that he finds you absolutely stunning but he figures he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. Right now, his main focus is getting you to like him and every time he thinks he’s close, something happens and you’re back to despising him. One step forward, two steps back.

Speaking of you, it’s been a few hours since you’d stormed out of the room in a flustered mess. Jimin didn’t understand why sharing a room with him was such a big deal but he respects you enough to recognize that your feelings are your feelings and he should just accept them. He’s beginning to grow worried, though, as the sun has just set on the horizon. It’ll be dark soon and he doesn’t even want to think about what could happen to you, a beautiful young woman, alone on the streets of an unfamiliar town in the middle of the night. 

He checks his phone and curses when he realizes that he still doesn’t have your phone number. It’s decided then; he has to go looking for you. Jimin leaps off the bed, grabbing his wallet from his bag and stuffing the room key inside, before practically sprinting out of the inn. 

Jimin’s not sure how long he searches for you but the light has long-since faded from the sky and the street lights have come on. He’s pretty sure he’s stopped in every shop and establishment along the length of the main road but he has yet to see any sign of you. He wants to keep looking but his stomach gives a ravenous growl and he forces himself to stop and take a break. You’re out here somewhere; he can just stop quickly and then continue his search once he’s gotten something into his stomach.

Ducking into a random bar, Jimin runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s about to head to the bar at the back of the place when he spots you sitting on one of the stools, hunched over a drink. Jimin’s not religious but he thanks every god above that you’re alright. All thoughts of food vanish as relief floods his body, nearly knocking him over with the force of it.

“Hey, sweetheart, you nearly gave me a heart attack. You can’t just run off  like that—”

“Jiminie~!” you cry with a dopey grin on your face as you swivel around to look at him. And, you’re drunk. Figures. 

“Jiminie, I saw the cutest puppy when I was outside and I wanted to take a picture but my phone died and so I couldn’t and I was so sad—”

You start rambling about how much you love puppies and Jimin just rolls his eyes fondly as he pays the tab and decides to get you home, hunger long-forgotten. Eventually he gets you out of the bar and the both of you start walking back to the inn albeit a bit slowly.

You suddenly speak up out of nowhere. “You know, I don’t like you.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Jimin can’t help the bitterness that creeps into his tone but he keeps his expression neutral.

“It’s because of your face.” 

“What about my face?” 

“It’s too pretty. Like what the fuck?? It’s not fair. You’re pretty and handsome and sexy as fuck and it’s just not fair.”

Jimin smiles to himself but tries to sound teasing. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Duh, I may hate you but I’m not blind.” A beat. “Okay maybe I don’t hate you. I hate that you make me feel things.”

“Things?” 

“Yeah, things.” 

“What kind of things?” 

“Bad things. My heart hurts when you talk to me but also when you talk to other girls? But I can’t like you. You’re a flirt. And I don’t like flirts. But I like you.” You seem to realize what you just said because you gasp dramatically. “WAIT, NO I DON'T! Well… kinda. Woah, I’m dizzy.”

You stumble and Jimin catches you, amusement swimming in his eyes as he gazes fondly while you struggle to keep yourself upright. As the pair of you walk towards the inn, you catch sight of a fountain in the middle of the town square and bolt upright, running over to it.

It’s quite pretty, even Jimin will admit. It’s relatively small, carved out of a sand-colored stone in a pretty, almost chalice-like design. Water trickles from a spout on the top where it makes its way down to the pool. Spouts surrounding the round rim all spray a thin stream of water toward the center and little lights within the pool illuminate the coin-covered bottom.

“I’ve always wanted to jump into a fountain!” you say as you stop in front of the structure to admire it.

“Why?!” 

“I don’t know, I saw it in a movie once and it looked fun!” 

Jimin glances over to you nervously and tries to grab your arm surreptitiously. “Well, maybe we should do that another time. You know, when you’re not—” 

SPLASH! 

“—drunk,” he finishes with a sigh.

You giggle in delight as you splash around, fully clothed, in the shallow fountain and Jimin can’t help the swell of affection as he watches you smile brightly. He’s never seen you smile like that before and he wishes he could be the cause of it.

You catch sight of the coins resting on the bottom of the fountain and you gasp dramatically, begging Jimin for a franc to toss in. Jimin laughs but acquiesces, lending you a hand as you struggle to get out of the fountain, dripping water all over the pavement. He watches you fondly as you clutch the coin with both hands up to your face and whisper into it like a prayer, swaying slightly because you are still a little drunk after all, and all he can think is he could watch you forever.

You abruptly open your eyes and throw the coin in, smiling softly as you wave at your coin. God, you’re precious.

“So… What’d you wish for?” 

You look scandalized. “I can’t tell you!” 

“Why not?” 

“Then it won’t come true,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Jimin wonders if it’s possible to die of smiling too much. 

“Ah, I see.”

You start shivering. “I’m cold.”

“That’s what happens when you jump into a fountain in the middle of the night, sweetheart” Jimin shrugs off his jacket and wraps you up in it. It’s not much but it’s better than nothing. You snuggle into the fabric, shivering again.

“I like when you call me that. My heart doesn’t hurt anymore when you say it.” 

Something tightens in Jimin’s heart and he’s overwhelmed with it, petting your hair softly. “Then I’ll say it for the rest of your life, sweetheart.” He whispers the words like they’re something sacred. He thinks they are.

Going slack in his hold, you lean heavily against him and your eyelashes flutter prettily as you struggle to stay awake.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jimin says and he can’t stop the tender way his voice caresses the nickname or the reverence in his touch as he slips an arm around your waist. 

“Let’s go home.”

You’ve only been awake for a matter of seconds and you already want to die.

You have a splitting headache and your mouth feels like sandpaper. Well yeah that’s what happens when you drink too much, genius. You don’t even remember what happened after your visit to the bar but you figure it was nothing good.

You glance down at your clothes and find an unfamiliar t-shirt and a pair of shorts on your body. There’s clothes strewn across the room, on the bed, on the floor and your heart crawls into your throat. Now you’re concerned. What the hell happened?

Just then Jimin comes in with breakfast, some water, and, bless his soul, ibuprofen.

“Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” his voice sounds soft, softer than you’ve ever heard and you’re confused but also swooning? It’s a strange combination.

“Uh yeah, I-I guess I did. What happened last night?” You wince as you move to sit up. Damn, what did you do to make you so sore?

“Last night did quite a number on you, I’ll tell you that.” He laughs as he sets down the tray on the side table, perching himself on the edge of the bed as he looks at you. “How much did you have to drink exactly?” 

“Uh, I kinda lost count after my fifth or sixth vodka soda.” You scratch your head in embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, how are you alive?” Jimin shakes his head in disbelief. Leave it to you, he figures. 

He hands you some water, which you chug gratefully, and take care to swallow the pills. He watches you, irises warm and pretty and you don’t like the way your heart flutters against your ribcage.

“You were incorrigible last night,” Jimin chuckles and you stiffen. What the fuck does that mean? “You kept pulling me in every direction, hanging off me at any given chance.” His voice is light and teasing and far too casual for what he’s suggesting.

Suddenly it clicks. The clothes strewn everywhere, the soreness, the strange tenderness in Jimin’s voice. 

Holy shit. Holy fuck. 

You slept with him. 

You fucking slept with him.

Jimin is still talking but you can hardly hear him over the ringing in your ears.

“We slept together,” you whisper in disbelief and Jimin immediately stops rambling about whatever the fuck and you’re still reeling with the realization that you fucking slept with him.

“What?” He seems confused but you can’t think about his emotions when yours are swirling around violently in your head, increasing the pounding against your skull and making you want to throw up.

“You fucking slept with me while I was drunk? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jimin’s eyes widen so much that it would be almost comical if you weren’t absolutely devastated. “What? What the hell are you talking about?” 

But you’re not listening anymore. You can’t, not with the way the blood is rushing too loudly in your ears, or the way your heart has crawled so far up your throat you think you could choke. 

Logically, you know this is not the worst thing in the world, that it may be a bit of an overreaction, but you can’t shake the feeling of wrongness that permeates your body when you think about what a vulnerable position you were in last night. Stupid, you think. How could you be so stupid? A desperate sob meets your ears and you’re all too aware that the gasping breaths are coming from you.

You can hear Jimin trying to reason with you but your body reacts violently, slapping his hands away every time he tries to reach for you. You cry, arms wrapping around your body in an attempt to hold yourself together but you can’t stop the tremors wracking your frame.

“___! Sweetheart, please, will you just—!” 

“No! Get away from me!”

You try to push him, shove him, hit him, but it’s futile and you only cry harder. Finally, Jimin decides enough is enough.

“Listen to me, ___. Listen to me.” Jimin’s hands come up to cradle your head, gentle but firm. His voice leaves no room for argument and you let out a pathetic whimper but look into his eyes nonetheless.

“I know what you think of me. I know you think I’m the scum of the earth, that I'm a flirt and a tease, and maybe I am those things but I am not a monster. Do you hear me? I may push boundaries and irritate you but I would never, ever dream of crossing that line without your explicit and enthusiastic consent.” 

His eyes blaze into yours with a passion you’ve never seen before. He looks serious and stern, but most of all he looks hurt. You did that. Before you can go any further with your self-hatred, he continues. “You were drunk and wet and I needed to get you into a change of clothes. I am telling you the truth when I say nothing happened last night. Believe me, please?”

You stare into his eyes for an immeasurable amount of time, back and forth between his irises and you feel all the tension within you release, as if his touch is a balm you never knew you needed to an ache you never knew you had.

Another whimper escapes you and you throw yourself into Jimin’s arms then, whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again and he just embraces you, shushing you as he strokes your hair oh so gently.

You stay like that for a long time, simply relishing in the warmth of his body, before you realize what you’re doing. Jimin seems to come back into himself as well because you both pull away from each other at the same time, albeit a bit bashfully.

“Um, so. Why don’t you go get dressed, hm? We’ve got a train to catch.” He starts to move off the bed but turns back to you with a glimmer in his eye. “I will be needing my shirt, though…” He goes to move closer to you as though he were going to take the shirt himself. You lean back instinctively but relax at his wide grin, soft giggle escaping his lips as he leaves you to it.

You gaze after him, a fond smile curving at your lips as you wipe at your tear-stained cheeks, and your heart is too light to worry about anything else.

Refreshed and ready to go, you pull up to the train station almost an hour before your scheduled train. It may be overkill but you are not missing another train, thank you very much. 

While you wait, Jimin gets you both coffee, for which you are eternally grateful. You sit on one of the benches, swinging your legs happily as you sip your drink. Neither of you speak but it’s a comfortable silence. Who would have thought you would get to feel so comfortable around Jimin?

“Let’s play a game” Jimin pipes up out of nowhere. You laugh at his innocent suggestion and decide to humor him.

“Alright I’m down. Whatcha wanna play?”

“Twenty Questions!” He looks so excited you can’t help but tease.

“What are we, 14?”

“If you don’t wanna play, all you have to do is say so, you don’t have to be mean about it.” He pouts and you laugh if only to stifle the urge to coo at him and pinch his cheeks.

“Fine I’ll bite. You go first.” 

“What’s your most embarrassing kink?” 

You smack him upside the head and roll your eyes. “Next.”

The questions continue back and forth for a few minutes, some of them serious, most of them anything but. You laugh until your stomach hurts about the time he got into an argument with his best friend over a dumpling incident.

“Listen, it was a very serious argument—” 

“Over dumplings.” 

“Excuse you, dumplings are very important, I’ll have you know—”

You laugh as he puffs his cheeks out at you. He even looks like a dumpling and you tell him as much, earning another pout from the man. Eventually the topic shifts to more personal things.

“Okay, okay, serious one now,” Jimin says and there’s an unreadable look in his eyes. “Have you ever been in love?”

The question is unexpected and you have to think for a moment. Have you ever been in love? You’re not really sure.

“Dunno,” you shrug. 

“You don’t know? How could you not know?” 

“I’m just not sure if what I felt was love or…something else.”

“Valid, I guess.” He falls silent for a moment before speaking. “I know for a fact I never have.”

This surprises you. “What? A guy like you? Surely, you’ve been in love before.”

“A guy like me?” Jimin smirks as he side-eyes you.

“Y-Yeah you know flirts with anything with a pulse.” 

“Okay, rude.” You both laugh but sober up pretty quickly. “But yeah no. I’ve had a few flings or whatever but never anything I could call love, you know? Just…never really met the right person.”

“What kind of person are you looking for?”

“Well…” He sits up a little straighter in his seat. “I don’t have, like, an ideal type or anything but…all I know is, that when I see them—the person I’m meant to be with—all my heart’s desires and dreams will come true.  And maybe that makes me naive or whatever but I feel like I’ll know when I see them. Maybe not immediately, it might take some time, but I believe my soul will recognize its other half.”

You sit there, shocked and dazed. You hadn’t expected such a serious answer from him. “I— That’s…that’s beautiful.”

“You should hear Jeongguk talk about it.” He laughs softly as he rubs the back of his neck. “Says he’ll hear bells or something. He’s a cute kid.”

“Yeah he is…” You’re still a little dazed hearing him speak so passionately about love. It makes you feel painfully inadequate.

“What about you? What kind of person could sweep the ever-elusive ___ off her feet?”

You pause, unsure how to answer. “Oh, uh… I’ve never actually thought about it? I don’t know, I’ve always felt like, if I think about it too much, I’ll get too excited. I’ve always been the overexcited type.” Jimin chuckles, remembering the other night. He knows that all too well.

“But, uh, yeah. If I think about it, I’ll anticipate it, I’ll wait for it, and if it doesn’t come well… that’ll make the disappointment that much more upsetting.”

Jimin frowns. “Why wouldn’t it come?” 

“I-I don’t know.” You fidget with your fingers, insecure. “What if… What if I never meet someone? What if I do and my heart—my soul—never recognizes its other half?” You look into Jimin’s eyes. “What if I’m just alone?”

His gaze holds yours for an immeasurable amount of time. 

“I think,” he says slowly, and you find yourself hanging off of every word, “that you’re overcomplicating it. Sure, life has its disappointments but it comes with the territory. Having things to look forward to makes life worth living, even if it’s something as simple as waking up the next morning.”

Jimin inches his hand slowly over to where yours rests on the grainy wood of the bench. He nudges your pinky with his own, wrapping your digit with his. It’s a small gesture but it fills you with an inexplicable warmth.

“All I’m saying is, it’s okay to want.” He says it with such conviction that you desperately want to believe him. “And it’s okay to feel disappointed if you don’t get what you want. But don’t let that stop you from doing it.”

You’re silent again but you can’t look away. The words come rushing out before you can stop them. “And what if I already do? Want, I mean.”

His eyes flick between both of yours and you fight a shiver. “Then it’s your job to do something about it.”

The sound of the train’s whistle breaks the moment and you find yourself taking in a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You glance at the approaching train before looking shyly at Jimin.

“The train is coming. Wouldn’t wanna miss it again.” You try to joke but you can’t seem to shake the residual tension from before.

“And yet,” Jimin hums, barely above a whisper, “I find that I want to miss the train again and again.”

The trip wraps up almost too quickly for your liking.

When the two of you reunite with your friends in Zürich, it’s as if something has changed. You find yourself glancing at Jimin more often than not, and he’s almost always staring right back at you. It should unnerve you, you think, but you feel…calm, almost peaceful knowing his eyes are on you. Powerful. You also find yourself thinking about him a lot, often at night once the lights are cut and all your friends are asleep. You can’t shake his words.

It’s okay to want.

It seems obvious; of course it’s okay for you to want things. But when he said it, it was as if he had opened up a whole new world to you. Had you been unintentionally stifling your own desires? What did you want? You can feel something niggling at the edge of your consciousness but it disappears when you try to pinpoint the feeling, like stars when you look too hard at them. It frustrates you and you want to talk to him but where you actively had to avoid him before your little detour, you can’t seem to find him alone for longer than a cursory greeting. An ache has settled low in your stomach and the feeling of something missing pervades you for days after. You don’t sleep well until the end of the tour.

You’re sadder than you thought you’d be to leave this trip but you chalk it up to how much fun you’ve had over the last two weeks. Definitely does not have anything to do with a certain pink-haired man. Absolutely not.

“Be sure to keep in touch, yeah?” Hobi smiles his beautiful sunshiny smile and you can do nothing but return it, pulling him into a warm hug.

“Of course! We’ll have to hit up a karaoke bar together. You know, one that you haven’t been kicked out of.” You elbow him in the ribs playfully.

“That was one time and I told you that to bond! You can’t make fun of me!” But his smile is just as bright if not brighter and you’re really going to miss him. 

You turn to Jeongguk and pull him into a hug as well. “It was so great getting to meet you. Now I know who to call when I need to liven up a party.” 

Flashing you his signature toothy grin, he practically bounces in place. “Anytime, ___. We should definitely hang soon!” After nodding your assent, you wave a final time as he joins Hobi and leaves the platform.

Your friends hug you and tell you they’ll see you later. With a wave, you send them off until you’re left with only one other person. Bracing yourself, you turn around and face Jimin with a shy smile. Your heart gives a dull throb but you ignore it.

“So,” you both begin before collapsing into nervous giggles. God, were you always so awkward? “You first,” he smiles.

“This is it, huh,” you marvel, reminiscing over the last few days. You can’t believe just two weeks ago you two were strangers, enemies even, and now you’re… Well, you’re not sure what you are but it’s definitely an improvement from your first encounter. “Can’t believe two weeks went by so quickly…”

“I know. Seems like just yesterday I was pulling your late ass onto the train,” Jimin smirks at you and you shove his shoulder.

“Yeah and making inappropriate comments about my underwear.” You glare at him playfully but it dissolves into a smile when you see his sheepish grin. 

“I never did properly apologize for that, did I?” He scratches the back of his head and you melt at the familiar gesture. 

“Hey, no worries. We’re cool.” Silence befalls the two of you. It seems to happen a lot recently, but it’s not a bad silence, just a thoughtful one. “Thank you. For everything.”

“It was no problem, sweetheart.” There’s something lurking in the depths of his eyes but you don’t dwell on it.

“Friends?” You stick out your hand between you. You can’t discern why Jimin’s face looks so drawn but the expression disappears just as quickly as you notice it, replaced by a beautiful smile. 

“Friends,” he repeats, soft as he grasps your hand almost reverently.

You look into his eyes and you once again find yourself trapped. The seconds tick on and you can’t bring yourself to remove your hand from his. His grip feels warm and comforting. Right. You don’t know if you want to think about what that might mean.

Inhaling deeply, you finally muster up the will to let go of his hand, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Jimin looks just as reluctant but plasters a smile. You return it, confused as to why there seems to be so much tension but you figure it’s the sadness of parting. Sending a last lingering wave, you go to turn when you feel a hand grip your wrist. You turn in surprise, a question in your eyes.

“I just… I have something for you.” Jimin lets you go for a moment to pull out a small box. He hands it to you, bashful. You accept it gently and slide the lid open. Inside, is the bracelet from that souvenir shop. The black pearls gleam back at you in the fluorescent light of the station and you have the strangest urge to cry. You look up at him, touched beyond belief.

“You—”

“May I?” He gestures to the bracelet and it takes a second for you to understand what he’s asking, too caught up in his thoughtfulness, but you nod silently when you do. You’re not sure you trust your voice right now.

Jimin beams, delicately taking the bracelet out of the box and wrapping the thin gold chain around your wrist. He clasps it securely so that the pink flower just brushes the inside of your wrist. Your skin tingles where he grazes you and the warmth spreads throughout your body until you’re filled with it. You look up at Jimin, eyes shining a little and you do your best to blink them back.

“I saw you looking at it back at the shop. Figured you’d like it.”

“I love it,” you whisper and you feel like it means so much more.

“Well…” Jimin clears his throat and steps away to a more appropriate distance. You hadn’t even realized you were practically on top of him. “I guess I should get going.”

“Yeah, you— I-I should head out, too.” You don’t want him to go, you realize, but you have nothing to convince him to stay. So you let him go.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Jimin.”

You both back away slowly from each other, as if to extend the moment just a bit longer. He doesn’t look away from you and so you don’t either. Eventually, you have to turn around to actually watch where you’re going. When you look back, he’s gone.

There’s a lingering emptiness in your chest as you walk home, not even bothering with a taxi this time. The feeling of something missing has only worsened, and now it’s at its peak. You’re worried that you’ve missed your chance to find it and the knowledge that it might be too late lingers like an intrusive thought.

You deflate, shoulders hunching protectively as you make your way through the city. From what you’re protecting yourself from, you’re not sure. The bracelet on your wrist feels heavy, like a shackle, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at it without feeling the ghost of his touch on your skin.

Just under two weeks have passed since the Eurail tour and you haven’t felt the same since.

You expected it somewhat. That’s what traveling does to you. It makes you appreciate the beauty of the world, shows you a new way of life, and changes your perspective and you never leave a new place the same as when you enter it. But the reason for this change has nothing to do with the wonders of a new country.

No, it centers on one person. Park Jimin.

It doesn’t take you long to realize what the emptiness means, to recognize the shape of the hole that has permanently taken up residence in your heart. You find yourself plagued by it at night, tossing and turning until you eventually fall into a fitful and restless sleep. 

He starts to permeate every facet of your life. It first begins with the dreams, your memories teasing you with glimpses of his round face and delicate cheeks, of warm brown eyes that seem to look right through you to your core, smoldering. Then it escalates quickly to lingering touches on the back of your hand when you know you’re alone or the bracelet on your wrist will suddenly feel too hot, like a brand, and it’s like he’s surrounding you—his arms around your waist, his scent filling your lungs, his breath cooling your feverish skin. You feel suffocated but the illusions leave you more empty each time.

Finally it gets worse; you start to see him everywhere. On your way to work, to the grocery store, to the bank—it doesn’t matter but your mind always tricks you into thinking you’ve caught sight of the familiar shock of pink hair or his signature leather jacket. Each time sends you reeling and you reach out briefly only for the haze to clear and you remember how very much alone you are. You even start to hallucinate his voice, the way sweetheart would flow so easily from his lips, a balm to your searing heart, and you think you might need to start seeing someone about this. It can’t be healthy.

Still, life goes on and so do you—for the most part anyway. You still work at the little convenience store around the corner from your apartment just to fill the time since there are no classes for you to take. You’re still waiting to hear back from schools about graduate programs but you don’t worry about it too much. You’re confident in your grades and your abilities to know you’ll be okay, it’s just a matter of time.

Your shift passes relatively quickly, time seeming even more meaningless since returning from your trip. You fiddle with your phone, shooting a quick text to Sheena confirming that you’ll see her tomorrow for dinner. You’re not really up for it but you haven’t seen much of anyone in the last two weeks and you miss her so you decide to go. 

Which reminds you, Hobi had managed to get your number and text you, asking if you wanted to go out next weekend with him and Jeongguk. You want to go but you’re not sure if you can get through an evening of them without thinking of a certain pink-haired man. Sighing, you glance at the time and note that it’s time to shut down the registers and begin closing. 

Just as you turn around the grab the money bag from underneath the counter, you hear the bell of the door tinkle open.

“Sorry,” you call, straightening as you reach for the register keys, “we’re actually clos—” Your breath catches in your throat. “Oh, god, I’m actually going insane,” is what makes it out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

Before you stands the object of your hallucinations in all his pink-haired glory. You blink several times, hoping the image will disappear quickly. When it doesn’t, your jaw goes slack.

Jimin looks just as shocked as you do but recovers faster. Of course he does. 

“___?”

You inhale sharply, trying to focus but it’s hard when he’s right in front of you and god, you’re not prepared for this—

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, are you alright?” The nickname rolls off his tongue so easily, like a gentle caress, and a strange feeling of relief fills you. Jimin approaches the register carefully, as if worried he’d scare you away if he moved too quickly. Maybe he’s right.

Your eyes drink him in greedily despite everything. He looks…good. An orange short-sleeved shirt with white and navy blue accents is tucked stylishly into a pair of black jeans that hug his legs nicely. You feel very insecure all of a sudden in your work uniform and you duck your head shyly. Finally, you find your voice as you clear your throat and tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“H-How are you?” You wince at how small your voice sounds. Your heart flutters so fast in your chest you struggle to catch your breath but at the same time…it’s the first time you’ve been able to truly breathe. 

Jimin’s eyes soften and he smiles that smile that makes your knees weak. “I’m good. Very good. I— Are you closing up now?”

“Yeah, I’m, yeah. If you give me, like, 20 minutes, we can head out, together?” It comes out like a question but Jimin is nodding before you can even second-guess yourself and you’re running around like a madwoman trying to clear the register and finish restocking the last box from storage. After a final cursory glance and a mental run-down of your closing checklist, you deem yourself ready to leave. You spare Jimin a quick smile, motioning him to follow you out and you close up shop. 

“My, um,” you begin, unsure if it’s too forward for you to say this but you’re tired of constantly running around in circles to avoid your emotions. It’s time to face them head-on, dammit! “My apartment is just a few blocks over if you…if you wanted to stop over for some tea?”

You hold your breath for some reason as you wait for his response. His answering smile is dazzling. “Tea sounds wonderful. Lead the way.”

You don’t remember the walk to your apartment, which is literally around the corner, ever feeling so long. You’re all too aware of his proximity, can feel the faint warmth he emanates from his body, and you find yourself too preoccupied with the way his arm brushes yours as you walk side-by-side. Neither of you speak but it’s comfortable, just like it was when you parted. Though you are anxious to see him, a sense of calm pervades deep within you and you welcome instead of ignore the feeling.

As you step into your apartment, you panic slightly as you struggle to remember if you’ve cleaned up enough while toeing off your shoes. You send a surreptitious glance around, satisfied that nothing looks too out of place as you lead Jimin into your small kitchen.

“Black or green?” you ask him, gazing up at him only to find him staring unabashedly at you. He startles, seemingly embarrassed to have been caught but does not look away.

“Black would be great.” You smile, nodding before setting up a kettle to boil on the stove before turning to him. You’re not sure where to begin but it seems you don’t have to. 

“I missed you.”

Those few simple words send a pang through your heart and any resolve you had bleeds through you as you try not to melt into the floor.

“I missed you, too,” you whisper back, scared to speak too loudly and break the beautiful tension that’s building around you.

Jimin looks down at the floor, as if the knowledge that you missed him too was too much for him. “I-I thought about you. All the time.”

You soften, shuffling closer to him where he is braced against the fridge. His eyes are swimming with that familiar tenderness and you can actually recognize it. He looked at you the same way on that morning in the inn.

“I thought about you, too.” You feel more confident now. Something about knowing that he’s just as shy and uncertain makes you relax significantly. “God, I saw you everywhere. I thought I was going crazy.”

“I dreamt about you.” He says this in a rush, as if he thinks he needs to get to words out in case you stop him. With the way you’re hanging off every word, you think it’s safe to say you’re just as eager to listen as he is to speak. “About you, about us. I— I kept replaying the moment at the train station, thinking how stupid I was for letting you go—”

“Hey, hey, shh.” You close the distance between you, placing a gentle hand on his chest. “I let you go, too. We’re both a little stupid.”

Jimin breathes a laugh, tense shoulders relaxing as he fixates on your hand on his chest. “You’re still wearing it,” he breathes in wonder, bringing his own hand up to clasp yours as he inspects the bracelet still on your wrist.

“Yeah, I— It’s my favorite thing I own.” Jimin’s eyes practically melt into yours, the warm chestnut irises looking down at you with such fondness you can’t stop the swell of affection from rising within you. You think you’re going to burst from the amount of adoration and feelings swirling around inside you but it’s pleasant. You’re buzzing with excitement, no longer heavy with what ifs. 

Jimin seems to realize how close you two actually are at the same time you do because his bright smile gradually fades as his gaze flickers down to your lips. The air stills around you and your breath hitches. Anticipation swirls in the pit of your stomach, cloying and intoxicating.

“___,” he calls and you shiver a little at the sound of your name dripping from his lips like honey. “Sweetheart, may I kiss you?”

You nod, inhaling deeply. “Yes, please.”

Beaming, Jimin grasps the hand on his chest firmer and moves his other hand to cradle your cheek tenderly. He bends his head down, brushing your noses together sweetly. Your eyes slip closed of their own accord and you wait, lips parted as you feel his breath wash over you. A beat passes and suddenly you’re kissing, those plump lips that you’ve been dreaming about for days finally on yours. A tingle passes between your lips and you gasp, mouth parting more under the soft pressure of Jimin’s. He kisses you sweet and slow, as if savoring the taste of you. You feel his fingers thread their way into your hair to hold you in place more securely and you hum in satisfaction. Your other hand is gripping the material of his shirt at his waist and you shuffle a little closer, all too eager to feel his body against yours.

You melt into each other as you kiss, hardly breaking apart for air as you suck in greedy, rushed breaths from your nose. You’re content to just stay here forever but the loud screech of the kettle startles you into breaking the kiss. You both chuckle, exchanging a quick peck before you pull away gently to turn off the stove.

Jimin is not far behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your middle once the stove is off and you’re sure you won’t burn down your apartment. You smile to yourself before turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck, reaching up to nose along his jaw. 

“Now where were we?” You smirk lightly against his skin when you feel him shiver beneath your hands. A rush of heat flashes through you as you think of all the ways you could have him now that he’s here, finally. 

Jimin seems to be thinking the same because the hands on your waist tighten and you hiss in pleasure. “I believe I was kissing you breathless.” It’s his turn to tease this time as he grazes down the length of your neck and you bite back a moan at the soft, almost ticklish feeling of his lips against your throat.

“Hmm, I might need you to show me again. I don’t think I was breathless enough.” The words are false of course, compounded by the fact that you are currently struggling to get enough air.

“As you wish, sweetheart.” And with that, Jimin is on you again. You sigh into his mouth, reveling in the plush feel of his lips. He swallows the sound, pressing you further against him and you practically turn to jelly in his arms. He kisses you with a passion you had only just begun to feel before you were briefly interrupted and you can feel yourself getting swept up in it. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jimin swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips in a silent question and you swear your knees buckle from underneath you. You can’t stop the moan that escapes, humming into his mouth as you open up for him. Things turn hot and heavy very quickly and you find yourself backed into your kitchen counter as Jimin positively ravages you. 

You pull back for a moment, panting and your stomach tightens as you catch a glimpse of him. Jimin looks just as wrecked as you feel, pupils blown wide in desire and chest heaving with the effort to breathe. His lips are a swollen, pretty pink mess and a desperate whine tears itself from your throat when you notice. 

Leaning his forehead against yours, Jimin closes his eyes and catches his breath. “Do you want this, sweetheart? Say the word and we can slow down. I won’t be upset.”

“It certainly doesn’t feel like you want to slow down,” you tease, rolling your hips into his where you can feel the evidence of his desire against your stomach. His answering groan has you grinning wickedly.

“Sweetheart,” he moans, panting into the skin of your shoulder as you build up a steady rhythm and you can feel him stiffen further at the stimulation. “Please, answer me.”

“Yes, Jimin, please.” You punctuate the request with a final roll of your hips, pulling his head away from your shoulder so you can look him in the eyes. “Make me yours.”

A beat. Then, Jimin lets out the most animalistic growl you’ve ever heard and your thighs clench pathetically as you feel your wetness dampen your underwear further.

“You are going to be the death of me.” Pulling you to him, he crouches slightly until his fingers are brushing the backs of your thighs. “Jump,” he grunts.

You’re hesitant but you do so anyway and he catches you, taking a moment to steady you both before busying himself with placing kisses along your jaw.

“Where are we doing this, sweetheart?” Jimin murmurs against your skin and you have to take a second to focus yourself, a haze beginning to cloud your mind.

“Second door on the left,” you manage to choke out, whining as you feel his tongue leave a wet trail along your collarbone. You hardly remember the walk to your room but you certainly feel when Jimin deposits you gently on the bed. Backing up toward the headboard, you eye him greedily as he tucks his shirt to raise it over his head. You feel your mouth run dry and you lick your lips in anticipation.

“Something the matter, sweetheart?” He’s teasing you as he crawls on the bed, stalking. 

“Not at all,” you return breezily. “Just wondering when you were gonna come over here and make me forget my name.”

“Oh, not to worry. You won’t be able to think of anything else but me.”

Lunging at you, Jimin connects your lips together once again and your hands wander over the exposed skin. You marvel at the toned muscles of his stomach, humming and running your nails lightly over them. He shudders over you, breaking the kiss to pant in your ear. You use his momentary distraction to flip you both over so you’re on top.

“My turn,” you whisper. In a surge of confidence, you grasp the ends of your shirt and practically rip it off you. Jimin stares, mouth agape, at the newly exposed skin. He seems to snap himself out of his trance because he dives in immediately, littering your chest with kisses and nips. Your hips buck against his as he moves to unclasp your bra, cupping the flesh once he’s removed the offending garment. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, awed. “I could look at you forever.” 

Your ears burn hotly but you try to hide your embarrassment. “You just gonna look?” 

Jimin fixes you with a look. “I plan to do a lot more than just look, sweetheart. But I am patient. Something you should learn.”

“I’ve missed you for weeks now,” you gasp as he pinches one stiff peak as punishment for your mouthing off. “So forgive me if I seem a little eager to get to it.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He presses a kiss over your heart and if you weren’t already a puddle on the floor you would’ve melted. Somehow the words seem to refer to more than just your impatience.

You choke on a moan when Jimin pulls a nipple into his mouth, fingers tweaking the neglected one. The stimulation has you arching into his mouth and you grind down onto his lap, reveling in the feel of him, hard and thick, under you. You shiver at the thought of him inside you.

Jimin switches then, his other hand sliding down your back to aid your hips in their movement against his. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, fabric slippery as you move. Finally satisfied, Jimin pulls back, admiring the wet, flushed mess he’s made of your chest, and ventures lower. Kissing down your sternum, he gently guides you down onto your pillows. You don’t even fight him, too excited to slow him down for even a second.

“Won’t be needing these, now will you?” He tugs at the waistband of your jeans and you scramble to undo them, lifting your hips as you help Jimin tug them down and off your legs. You’re left in your underwear as your only defense against his gaze and you shyly close your legs. Jimin clicks his tongue in disapproval and places a hand on both knees. “No hiding, sweetheart.”

He makes quick work of your underwear until he’s staring at your glistening folds with reverence. You mewl as he swipes a finger down your slit, collecting the growing wetness. Jimin circles your clit and you groan, back arching off the bed as you seek more friction.

“Jimin, please,” you gasp. “Want your fingers.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely…” Jimin grins deviously before slipping his fingers down to your fluttering hole. Sinking one finger in, he allows you to adjust before thrusting shallowly. He adds another finger after a minute and curls them upward, massaging the soft spot with purpose. 

“Jimin, ah, please!”

“Patience, my dear,” he chuckles. “I’ll give you what you want soon.”

You want to yell at him to get on with it but then he sinks a third finger in and the stretch burns so deliciously that you’re rendered speechless. The sound that reverberates around the room is obscene, filthy, but you can’t feel embarrassed as the fire in your stomach burns bright with each curl of Jimin’s fingers. He dips down to swallow your whines and cries in a searing kiss and you wrap your arms around him to crush him to you, eager to feel him.

“Now, Jimin, now. I’m ready.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” Kissing your forehead, he pulls his fingers out of you gingerly before moving to remove his own pants and underwear. You watch as he revels each inch of perfect skin, mouth practically salivating as he removes the final layer and bares himself to you. He’s not ridiculously long but he’s thick and you can’t wait to feel him inside you.

You spread your legs in an open invitation but Jimin shakes his head with a smile before settling on the bed next to you. You’re confused until he pats his lap, beckoning you over. You move quicker than you ever thought you could and straddle him.

“Want to watch you. Use me as you need to. I’m yours.” He looks deeply into your eyes when he says this and you shiver at the conviction in his voice. You grab him by the base, making him hiss, and line him up with your entrance. 

“And I’m yours,” you sigh, sinking down fully onto his swollen length. The stretch burns wonderfully and you can’t help the drawn-out whine that rips itself from your throat. Jimin doesn’t seem to be faring much better.

“Oh, sweetheart. You feel so good.” He tips his head back, eyes glazed and unfocused. You’re not faring much better but you’re determined to give him the ride of his life.

Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you push yourself up and you can’t stop the cheshire grin from curving your lips when he moans softly. His hands grip your waist tightly as you begin to build up a rhythm, guiding your hips as best he can. 

“S-So good, Jimin. So big.” And you’re not just stroking his ego. The stretch has you groaning into his neck as you swivel your hips in a torturing motion. The hand on your hip tightens and keeps you moving steadily, no matter how much you wanna speed up.

“What did I say about patience, baby?” He clicks his tongue playfully and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Purposefully, you slow down your hips even more and clench tightly, dragging yourself up and down. Jimin chokes on air as you do so.

“What was that?” You flutter your eyelashes prettily at him and he growls.

“Don’t test me, sweetheart.”

A twinge of arousal flashes through you at the thinly veiled threat and you wonder just how dangerous Jimin can get. But, you suppose, you can save that for another time. Sufficiently placated, you resume your pace, taking care to kiss and bite at his neck, his jaw—whatever you can reach. His breath stutters as you continue your ministrations and you take pride in yourself for making him react so strongly. 

Eventually your thighs start to feel tired and the fire in your core, while burning pleasantly, has dulled to a frustratingly low simmer. You whine into Jimin’s neck, begging him to let you go faster.

“Please, Jimin. I wanna cum.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he acquiesces. “I wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”

His words spur you on and you begin a desperate pace, soreness long forgotten. The blunt tip of his dick nudges against the deepest part of you and you gasp as if you’ve been shocked. The pleasure begins mounting and your hips piston faster of their own accord. You feel his pelvis bump against your bundle of nerves with each drag of your hips, sending ripples of liquid heat traveling through your body.

You lean down to kiss Jimin but you can do little more than pant into his mouth, especially as he begins to buck up into you and meet your hips with every downward stroke. “H-ah, Jimin, close.”

“Atta girl, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful.” The way he whispers into your hair, as if you’re something precious, something to be treasured, sends you into another frenzy and you let out an answering cry. “Come on, cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours.”

That in combination with a punctuated thrust has you hurtling so fast into your orgasm that you’re blindsided, mouth opening in a silent scream as the pleasure overtakes you. You hear Jimin grunt as your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth and you’re suddenly desperate to make him feel just as good.

“Y-You too, baby,” you manage to choke out. “Wanna feel you.”

Jimin groans, clutching you tighter to him. “Yeah? Sweetheart wants my cum?” You nod and that’s all he needs to buck up into you mercilessly. He lasts one stroke, then two, before he’s moaning out loud, pulling you in for a desperate kiss as he releases inside you. You swivel your hips for as long as you can stand it until the oversensitivity becomes too much and you have to stop. 

You both stay there for a moment, breathing in each other as you come down from your highs. Looking shyly into his eyes, you find him looking at you with that same adoring stare and your heart throbs in response. You’re sure you look just as smitten.

“Hi,” you whisper. 

Jimin smiles and you swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful. “Hi.”

“We’re a little sticky.” You grimace as you shift slightly, feeling the combination of your fluids leaking from inside you and onto his skin. Not to mention the thin layer of sweat that’s left on your skin.

“That we are.” He laughs goodnaturedly, fingers trailing a soothing path down the length of your back and sending pleasant tingles down your spine. “Shall we clean up?”

“Yes, please.” You wrinkle your nose at him and he laughs, kissing it lightly as he shifts. Jimin removes you from his lap so tenderly you blush under the attention despite your previous activities. 

Cleaning up turns into a full-blown shower, the two of you crammed into your small tub and taking turns under the spray as you lather each other’s bodies with soap. It’s comfortable, you realize—almost too comfortable—but you let yourself enjoy it, relishing in the feeling of wanting and being wanted in return.

Once you are clean and dressed in a thin nightgown and some sweats that you managed to find for Jimin, the two of you make quick work of changing the sheets and soon find yourself curled up around each other in a comfortable silence. You’re lying across his chest, hand clutched in his while his other arm is wrapped securely around your shoulders, holding you to him. Your thoughts wander to the Eurail trip—the trip that changed everything. You think about what would have happened if you hadn’t hadn’t been late and reached out for his hand that first day, if you hadn’t missed the train in that small-town station. You remember what Jimin had said about wanting, about finding his soul. Everything rushes back to you all at once and you can’t help the swell of emotion that rises within you.

“Jimin, I…” you begin, but you have no idea where to start. Everything feels so intense right now, so overwhelming, but Jimin seems to know exactly what you’re trying to say. 

“I know.” He says it so calmly, like he’s had time to think about this, about you, and you realize he probably has. Just as you did. You smile softly, looking deeply into his eyes as you move to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry it took so long for my soul to recognize yours.” 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Jimin cradles your face, gazing at you fondly and you have trouble remembering how to breathe. “I found you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

© exoticarmyofcrowns 2020

[atlafan]

Maybe for a non brits blurb you could write something about getting to know Harry and like going from friends to something more with him? I feel like it’s overlooked but i know I would be flipping out given his dating history and general aura of power. He just seems low key intimidating to date if that makes sense.

a/n: this was me laughing when I read this. We love a good friends to lovers fic baby!! This is gonna have some nice cliches to keep us warm on this cold ass February evening. Okay this ended up being way longer than I thought. (fluff and a wee bit of smut towards the end.)

Getting Social

You had hit the jackpot. Social media was your passion, and after having low paying job after low paying job, a friend of yours in the PR world had connected you with Jeff. Harry Styles barely used his social media anymore, and when he did, his fans went into a frenzy, like over a simple tweet of the word “DO”. There was no deeper meaning to this, other than that he was half asleep trying to tweet something entirely different. 

Jeff wanted to hire someone to handle Harry’s social media full time. Someone to post coherent thoughts and photos for him. His fans really missed having this more personal reactions. Instagram was a little easier to run, as Jeff had given you an array of photos, and a schedule. But tweets were typically on the fly thoughts. When you interviewed for the position, you didn’t think you’d ever actually meet Harry. 

After you were hired, you were called for a meeting with Jeff and Harry. You were extremely nervous to meet the star. You weren’t a crazed fan or anything, you just knew he could come off as extremely intense. It was the way his brows would furrow that made you the most nervous. However, you pulled it together, and shook his hand politely when he entered the room. You were dressed in a red blouse, and long black pencil skirt. You wanted to look as professional as possible. 

“Y/N, we’re so happy to have you on the team. Your work speaks for itself.” Jeff says. 

“Thanks, I’m happy to be here.”

“Nice to meet you.” Harry says.

“You as well.” You smile, he smiles back. 

“We just wanted to go over how all of this would work. You said you were fine with traveling?”

“Yes, no problem with that. I’m not tied down to anything here. Family lives hours from here anyways.” You shrug. Jeff and Harry look at each other, then back to you.

“No significant other?” Harry asks. 

“Not at this time, no.”

“Well, that’ll definitely makes things easier.” Jeff says. “We’ve tried to hire for this position before, but the traveling can get to be a lot when you have someone waiting for you, or even a family of your own.”

“I love traveling, so it’s really no problem.”

“Great.” Jeff continues. “We loved your thoughts on the tweets, and you were absolutely right. Instagram can be a much more planned out endeavor, but Twitter is really about quick thoughts.”

“I was also thinking we could post more on his story?” The two furrow their eyebrows at you. “I know location privacy is very important, so we could turn all of his location info off. We could also post like after he’s in a particular place. We could share fan photos too..just so they know he still cares. We could do like fan photo Fridays. Just an idea.” The two look at each other again, then back at you. 

“S’not a terrible idea.” Harry says. “And feel free to address me directly, Jeff doesn’t make all the decisions, love.” You blink at him, and nod. “I guess as long as I knew my location wouldn’t be compromised we could do a little more of that. How do we tackle the tweets?”

“Well, I was thinking I could just go on and retweet more? Maybe even just liking more stuff that doesn’t necessarily have to do with promotion? Your Twitter looks so robotic, it’s no fun.” You say bluntly. “Social media is supposed to be fun. I know everything you say gets all turned around, but some natural responses would be good. I mean, and sorry if this is awkward, but look at what Niall’s been doing to promote his album.”

You pull up Niall Horan’s twitter on your phone, and show Jeff and Harry. After a few moments of scrolling and smirks, they hand the phone back to you. 

“As you can see, he’s having fun with it. Whether it’s really him or not, everything feels genuine, and that’s what you’re lacking, Harry, sorry to say. You may not think these things matter, but when you look at the demographic of people who follow you, I assure you, it matters.” You were proud of yourself for essentially proving your worth. 

“Oh, I like her. I think this is going to work out well.” Harry says. 

//

Things started off with you and Harry meeting on Friday mornings so you both could choose the fan photos you would share on his Instagram story. You wanted to make sure he liked the way the way he looked. Then you would have him write down any thoughts he may have had during the week that would make sense to tweet. You would use those throughout the following week to tweet out for him. Not all of them made the cut, but the fans were responding positively see him back online more. 

Harry wanted you around more. The two of you got along pretty well, and you actually had more in common than you would’ve thought. You were slowly starting to become part of his circle of friends. 

One night, a bunch of you were hanging out at his home in Malibu. It was raining out, but it didn’t put a damper on the fun. Everyone was hanging out in the kitchen when you got there. You were wearing a pair of jean shorts, white tennis shoes, and a cropped sweatshirt. You had slowly started dressing more casually the more you realized everyone else did. 

“Hey, you made it!” Harry said, giving you a hug. Your sweatshirt was soaked from the rain.

“Hit a spot of traffic. People drive like idiots in this weather.”

“Want one of my sweatshirts to wear?” Harry’s eyes grow wide when he sees your nipples peak through the material, then coughs. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. A.C. is a little strong in here, don’t ya think?”

“It got warm where we were all sittin’. I can, turn it down. Come upstairs with me so you can pick somethin’ out.” 

“Um, I think you can handle that on your own.” You smell the deliciousness from the kitchen. “I’m starving.” You walk by him, and greet everyone. 

Harry returns shortly with a small towel and a new sweatshirt. 

“Towel’s for your hair.” He smiles.

“Thanks Harry.” You give his shoulder a squeeze before you head into the bathroom to change. The sweatshirt he gave you was rather large and black. It completely covered down past your shorts, not that your shorts were very long to begin with. 

Harry admires you as you walk by him.

“Think you could’ve given me a bigger sweatshirt, this one’s not big enough.” You nudge him. He sticks his tongue out at you. “You guys feel like moving to the living room for a movie?”

Everyone agrees with you. You knew none of you would pay attention to a movie, but it was something to do. People were getting set up on the couches, some opting for the floor. There was one large recliner left. You and Harry looked at, at each other, then back to the chair. You both raced over and sat down at the time time. 

“Would you please move your big butt, I was here first.” You say playfully. 

“Oh, I have a big butt?”

“A proper bubble butt!” You giggle. “Now move.”

“There’s room for the both of us.” He says with a smile.

“Not unless you wanna sit on my lap there’s not.” Harry shifts and sits on your lap. “Get off! You’re crushing me!”

“Quit overrating, I’m as light as a feather.” He jokes. 

“Harry!” You whine. 

“Fine.” He gets off of you. “Wanna sit on my lap?”

“Not particularly.” You say sitting sideways in the chair. “But thanks for giving up the space for me. You’re such a good little host.” You say with a slight sarcasm to your tone. He rolls his eyes at you. 

“Can I get anyone anythin’ from the kitchen? Doin’ a drink run.” 

Harry takes drink orders from his friends, and heads into the kitchen. You’re talking with one of the girls when Mitch comes over to you. 

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Sup, Mitch?” You smile at your friend. 

“Got a sec? Something I wanna talk to you about.”

“Sure!”

You get up and follow him down the hall. No one pays the two of you attention.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, um, this is sort of awkward, but he’s really trying.”

“Who’s trying?”

“Harry.”

“What’s he trying to do?”

“Flirt with you. He likes you, obviously.”

“That’s flirting? We act like that with each other all the time. We’re just friends, Mitch.” 

“But...he likes you.”

“Has he told you?”

“Not in so many words. Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t been hooking up with randoms as often?” You roll your eyes. 

Part of being Harry’s social media rep meant having to make sure his little rendezvous went unnoticed. It wasn’t like he was a sex addict or anything, but he definitely got it when he wanted it. 

“I hadn’t really noticed. I try not to pay too much to his personal affairs.” 

“So, you wouldn’t even give him a chance?”

“How often does this happen? A new girl is added to the friend group, and then what? He starts hooking up with them, and then it ends? Isn’t that the situation with like half of the girls in there?” Mitch sighs. “Exactly. I’m not getting mixed up with all that.” 

The two of you go back into the living room, Harry had taken your sit. You stand in front of him with your hands on your hips. He thought you looked incredibly cute in the oversized sweatshirt. 

“Can I help you?”

“You took my seat.”

“Technically, it’s my seat love. I own it.” You roll your eyes at him. “Lap’s still open though.” He grins at you. 

“I’ll pass.” You turn around and sit on the floor in front of him. 

You all decide on a movie, a romantic comedy at Harry’s request. You end up leaning back against his chair, and Harry’s legs were at either side of you. He started absentmindedly playing with your hair. You let out a soft sigh at his touch, and leaned your head back further. You would never say no to someone playing with your hair. He loved your hair too. It was long, brown (with blonde highlights that you had done every six weeks on the dot) , and it always smelled like apples. You close your eyes as his fingers continue, and you feel yourself drift off slightly. He looks over at Mitch, who gives him a thumbs up. Everyone in the room knew he had a thing for you. 

You were woken up by the sound of everyone laughing at some scene. You sat up, and moved to lay on your stomach. Harry frowned at the loss of contact from you. After the movie, everyone agreed it was late, and due to the never ending rain, it would be a good idea to get going. 

Harry hated going from a full house of people to no one. But everyone had their own lives, it couldn’t be about him all the time. 

“Hey, do you know where my sweatshirt ended up?” 

“I threw it in the dryer for a bit, one sec.” Harry left and came back with your sweatshirt. 

“Thanks!” You hugged the material to your face. “Nice and warm.” You turned around to take his sweatshirt off, revealing just a cropped tank top, and then quickly put yours back on. You tossed his back to him. “Thanks again for the loaner.”

“Any time. Glad you could make it out tonight.” He smiled at you. 

“Same here.” He stepped forward to hug you, but you stepped back, making his face fall. “Well, goodnight Harry.” 

“Um...goodnight.” 

//

A few weeks passed and you started picking up on more of Harry’s flirty behavior that Mitch had told you about. You found yourself always being placed next to him on flights, dinners, and wherever else he needed you to be. Your one year work anniversary was coming up, and he wanted to do something special for you. In your weekly Friday meeting, he brought it up.

“Can you believe you’ve been with me for almost a year?” You squinted at his phrasing. 

“It’s been great being part of your team, Harry. Best job I’ve ever had.”

“I’m really glad we’re, um, friends too. Everyone loves you.”

“Nice of you to say.” You say, looking at your laptop. 

“I was thinkin’...I’d like to celebrate our, your anniversary.” You turn to face him, and raise an eyebrow. 

“What exactly were you thinking?” 

“How ‘bout a holiday? Go away somewhere tropical for a bit.”

“Seems like a bit much for just a work anniversary.”

“Also an excuse to get away and relax. Been sorta stressed lately, love.”

“So, you wanna use me working for you for a year as an excuse for a vacation?”

“Don’t say it like that. You don’t work for me, you work with me.” You smirk at him. “There’s that smile.” 

“Oh stop it. Look, I’ll think about it, okay? Can we get to the work that this meeting is for now?”

“Yes.” He hands you the piece of paper with the notes for some tweets. 

“Why does this one have a star next to it?”

“Because I found that thought to be particularly funny, and I’ve noticed that sometimes the things I think are funny don’t always make the cut, so I wanted to make sure that made it.”

“You know, you are allowed to tweet things yourself. You don’t have to wait for me.” You laugh looking at his note. “This is pretty funny.” 

“Thank you, I was pretty proud of that one.” 

//

You agreed to a five day getaway to Aruba with Harry. You didn’t think much of it when it was just the two of you from your gang on the plane. You figured they were catching a different flight. 

Harry was very sweet at the airport. He carried all of your luggage, rented a car for the two of you, and drove you to the condo you’d be staying in for the next few days. 

“S’not a big place. It’s part of a timeshare association. I’m actually renting it from a friend.”

“Oh that’s fine. It’s probably bigger than all my apartments.”

“You know, you could just stay with me when we’re in Malibu. My house has so much space, it doesn’t make sense for you to pay for two different places.”

“I’m not living with you, Harry.” You squeeze his arm. “But I appreciate it.” 

You get to the condo pretty quickly, and Harry takes your bags to the room after checking in. You already loved it here. It was humid, but there was a breeze, and zero paps. Harry unlocked the door. You didn’t question that it was only one room, you figured there would be a few bedrooms for everyone to stay in. The cool air hit you as you both walked in, giving some relief from the humidity. 

As you walked around to explore, you got extremely confused and angry.

“Harry.” 

“Yeah?”

“Why does this place only have one actual bedroom?”

“I told you it wasn’t huge.”

“Where is everyone supposed to fit?”

“What do you mean everyone?”

“Um, our friends?”

“None of them had anniversaries. This trip is just for the two of us, thought that was clear.” He shrugs, wheeling both bags of luggage into the bedroom. You snatch yours from his hand. “What?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Harry! Don’t you see what’s wrong with this picture?” You gesture to the space. “I am not staying along with you here for an entire week.”

“S’not a week, it’s five days.”

“Don’t be fresh with me.”

“You sound like my mother.” He smirks. “Would ya relax.”

“No! Where the fuck am I supposed to sleep?” He gives you a confused look, and looks at the large bed in the bedroom.

“Love, it’s a king size bed.” You start laughing out of exasperation.

“You are crazy if you think I’m sleeping in the same bed as you.”

“It’s a huge bed, we won’t even be touchin’.” You scoff. “What?”

“What do I look like an idiot? I know how you are.”

“Excuse me?” Not wanting to start an even bigger fight, you decided to let it go.

“Never mind.” You walk over to the couch in the living room, and take the pillows off. You sigh with relief. “Oh thank god.”

“What?”

“It’s a pull out. I can sleep out here, and I’ll use the hall bath.”

“Shower’s in the bedroom.” You glare at him.

“Guess we’ll have to take turns, won’t we.” 

“Would ya stop bein’ a baby? We’re two adults aren’t we? No way you’ll last five nights on that thing.”

He was right. You weren’t a great sleeper when it came to traveling. An actual mattress would be much more comfortable. 

“Jesus, I really hate you right now. You’ve backed me into a corner.” You wheel your luggage into the bedroom, and angrily unpack your things. 

You calm down a bit when you see how beautiful the bathroom is. There was a huge tub, and a giant walk in shower. You could already see yourself relaxing in a giant bubble bath. 

“Nice, isn’t it?” Harry brushes past you to put his toiletries away. “We need to go to the grocery store to pick out what we want for snacks and stuff. There’s food on site, but none of it’s complimentary. I figured we could do the breakfast buffet a couple times, but we might want stuff here for ourselves. We’ll eat out most dinners.”

“Alright, sounds good. When we get back can we go down to the pool, I need to cool off.”

“You bet.”

Harry was fun to grocery shop with. He pushed the cart while you picked out things you liked to eat. He agreed with just about everything you picked out. He paid for everything. Groceries were more expensive in Aruba. You worked together to put everything away. 

Harry changed into his little yellow swim shorts and a white t-shirt while you changed into your bathing suit. It was a simple high waisted black bikini. You took the straps off the top so you wouldn’t have tan lines. You threw on a large t-shirt as a cover up, and slid on your flip flops.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Yup. What do we do for towels?”

“They’re down by the pool.” He smiles. 

You both get a couple towels, and put them on your chairs. Harry was smart to remember to bring down some sunscreen. You took your shirt off, and laid it on the back of the chair. Harry’s eyes went wide looking at you. He had never seen you in such little clothing. You bend over in front of him to put your hair up in a messy bun. When you look at him he quickly looks away. 

“Would you mind putting some sunscreen on my back?” You ask him.

“Um, sure.” He swallows hard, and squirts some in his hands. He rubs his hands together to warm it up, and he massages it into your shoulders and upper back. 

“Can you get the bit of my lower back too?”

“Mhm.”

“And make sure to get under the top, I’ve been burned there before, no fun.” 

You hold the front of your top up while Harry nervously rubs sunscreen underneath the back.

“Kay, all set.” 

“Thanks.” You snatch the bottle from him, and lather the rest of yourself up. He takes his shirt off while you do this. “Turn around.”

“I’m gonna lay on m’back.”

“Still need to get those shoulders, and the back of your neck.” 

Harry turns around, and bends his knees a bit so you can reach his shoulders easily. You rub all over his back, and give him a little slap when you’re done. 

You put your headphones and listen to some music while Harry reads from his book. You had thoroughly calmed down from earlier. You drift and snooze for a little over an hour. You stand up and stretch once you’re awake. Harry watches you, peering up from his book. 

“Gonna go for a swim.” You say to him, and he nods. 

You slowly get into the heated pool, and it feels amazing. You loved swimming more than most things. Harry watches you spin around in the water, and loved the giant smile on your face. You were careful not to get your hair wet. 

“Harry, come in with me, the water feels great.” 

“Alright.”

Harry gets up and joins you in the water. The pool, and area, you were in was smaller than where the other pool was. There was mostly older people around you that didn’t know or care who Harry was. He ducked his head under the water, and pushed his hair back when he came back up. 

It’s not that you weren’t attracted to Harry. You thought he was extremely handsome. You just knew how he was. He didn’t have the best track record with the people he dated. You enjoyed being his friend so much, you didn’t want hooking up to complicate things. You also didn’t want to risk doing anything that could lose you your job. You loved what you did every day. How many people could say that?

“It’s a nice suit, by the way.” He says, leaning against the edge of the pool.

“Oh, thanks.” You blush. “I got it at that boutique last time we were in New York.” 

“You have great taste in clothes. Don’t know if I’ve ever told ya that.” 

“Says the fashion icon himself.” You look away, then back at him. “What do you feel like doing for dinner tonight?”

“Gettin hungry, love?”

“Yeah.” 

“Well, we could stay in tonight. I don’t know if I feel like putting proper dinner clothes on.”

“Me either, we bought plenty of food. Oh! We could have pancakes tonight.”

“Brilliant idea.”

After a little more time in the pool, you both dry off, and go back to your room. You both hang out in your bathing suits for a bit while you get all the things to make pancakes. You decide to change into a pair of jean shorts, feeling uncomfy in your bathing suit bottoms. You leave the top on though. 

You and Harry giggle as you flip the the pancakes, and scarf them down. 

“Feel like seein’ if there’s a movie on? We could watch it in bed.” He says. You squint at him, still annoyed about your sleeping situation. You sigh. 

“Sure, just let me change into my jammies.” 

You take out a a pair of shirts and a t-shirt. You change in the bathroom, then wash your face and brush your teeth. You take your hair out of it’s bun. Harry had changed into a pair of boxers, and was laying on the bed with one of his arms tucked behind his head, the remote in the other hand. You cross your arms over your chest, not wanting him to see you’re not wearing a bra. You had seen Harry in nothing but his boxers plenty of times, so you didn’t feel uncomfortable. 

You climb onto the large bed, and set as far away form him as possible. 

“So, what are we watching?”

“Think we’ll be watchin’ this marathon of Chopped. Nothin’ else good is on.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll probably fall asleep soon anyways.” You lean over and turn your bedside table lamp off, and get under the covers. 

“You’re awfully far away.” 

“Don’t start with me.”

“Are you really that uncomfortable with this?”

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, this is just all very presumptuous of you that I’d be okay with sharing a room with you. Let alone a bed.” You keep your eyes on the TV. “Ted, get out of the fucking way! Jesus, I hate when he goes to talk to them, and then he distracts them.” Harry chuckles at how invested you get with the show. 

“Oi, look at this one going for the ice cream maker, real fucking original.”

“She’s lucky she didn’t chopped from the last round with that sorry excuse for a risotto.” You both laugh. 

Harry gets up to do his nightly routine, and turns his light off after getting back into bed.

“Ready for me to turn it off?”

“Sure.” 

He fell asleep pretty quickly, as you lay there staring at the ceiling. How could he be so calm about all of this. You secretly wondered if he would try to cuddle with you. But at the end of the Harry was a gentleman. You finally fell asleep, but not for long. 

“Mornin’.” Harry saying coming into the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around him. 

“Hey.” You say eating some cereal.

“You sleep alright?”

“Meh.” You say. He frowns. “Wasn’t cause of you though. I never sleep good the first night I go somewhere.” 

The two of you spend the day at the each, enjoying the beautiful sand and warm water. Harry picked you up and threw you in a couple times. You managed to grab onto him and dunk him a few times yourself. The whole day was fulled with laughter. 

That night for dinner her took you to a club that had live music. You wore your hair down and wore a blue sundress. Harry wore a shirt that was mostly open and a pair of shorts. He stands and extends a hand out to you.

“What?” 

“Let’s dance.” Harry never danced, he was truly on vacation mode. You had a few drinks in you, so you shrugged your shoulders and took his hands. 

It was simple, fast paced dancing at first, but his hands never left yours. The band started to play a slower song. You both nervously smiled at each other. Harry’s hands went to your hips, and yours went on his shoulders. You two sink into the dance as he pulls you closer to him, leaning your head on his chest. He hums into your ear and goosebumps raise on your skin. 

When you get back to the room later you struggle to unzip your dress while you’re in the bathroom. You crack the door. 

“Harry.” You whine. 

“Yeah, love?”

“Can you please help me?” He practically jumps from the bed. He opens the door wider. Your chest was flushed from the alcohol. His skin was already golden brown from the two days of sun. 

“Turn around.” He says. You turn and move your hair. He unzips your dress for your as you cross your arms over your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra with your dress since it had one built in. 

You turn to face him, your cheeks rosy. 

“Need help with anythin’ else?” He asks, not breaking eye contact.

“Like what?” He shrugs his shoulders. His hand cups your cheek, you close your eyes and lean into his touch. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” You open your eyes and shake your head no. “Well, you are. You’re so beautiful. I’ve thought so since we met.”

“Oh, stop it.” You push him out of the bathroom, and close the door. Your dress falls to your feet. You change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. You walk out arms crossed over your chest. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“You don’t have to keep doin’ that, I know what boobs look like.”

“You don’t need to know what my boobs look like.” You say standing in front of him.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re friends.” He scoffs. “Not to mention I fucking work for you, Harry.”

“So?”

“So?! Okay great, so let’s just fuck and then you’ll get what you want, and then you can fire me like nothing ever happened!” He stands up and gets in your face, but you step back.

“Is that really what you think of me? After all this time we’ve known each other.”

“Harry, I have seen so many people leave your hotel room over this last year, I’m exhausted just looking at you.”

“I haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while.”

“You want a fucking award?”

“Why are you so god damn stubborn? You have to like me too, you just have to.”

“Why, because you’re Harry Styles?”

“No, because you know better than anyone else. I like you, a lot. I think we should be together. It wouldn’t effect your job in the slightest.” 

“This was your plan the whole time wasn’t it? Get me alone on a romantic vacation, show me this side of yourself so I’ll agree to being with you.” He doesn’t say anything. “That’s what I thought. You’re always doing sneaky shit like this. How hard would it to have been to just talk to me about how you were feeling? I’m not the sweep me off my feet kind of girl. You know what’s really sexy? Proper fucking communication.”

“Alright! I like you! I like you so much, and I have for a while. I think you’re incredibly brilliant, and yeah I do wanna fuck you. I wanna give you a proper fucking shag, you know you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“I’m not a model, you like to date models.”

“I’ve dated like one model, and that just happened to be her job.”

“Yeah, and you made an entire album about how much you loved fucking her. Kind of hard to compete with that, Harry.” You huff.

“What, are you jealous?”

“Not in the slightest.” 

“Do you care about any of the other things I just said?”

“Mm, so romantic, you screaming that you wanna fuck me.” You say sarcastically. 

“You don’t want to fuck me? You don’t want to even consider being with me?” His eyes were tired and sad. 

“If we do this, there’s no going back, and it scares the shit out of me. What if I lose you? That would literally kill me.” 

“You couldn’t lose me.” He wraps his arms around you and presses you to his chest. “I want you around me all the time, can’t you see that?” He lets go to take your face in his hands. 

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the adrenaline from the argument, but what you did next took you both by surprise. It had been a while since you were intimate with someone, so you may have gotten a little too excited. 

You pushed Harry, hard, so he falls on his back on his bed. You get right up on his lap straddling him. He sits himself up to look at you. 

“You really want this? With me?” You ask.

“More than you could ever know.” 

You lace your fingers through his hair and crash your lips to his. It felt so good it practically burned, your tongues finding each other in seconds. His hands go to your ass right away and he squeezes you with his large hands. 

It felt like your clothes came off immediately, and you found your self on your back, with your legs over his shoulders. The rumors were true, he loved eating out. Every lick and flick of his tongue was done with suck expertise, it astounded you. Every groan he let out against you fucking sent you, and you found yourself moaning out his name as you came undone on his tongue.

“So sweet.” He says bringing his head up, licking his swollen lips. “I’ve wanted to know for so long what you tasted like. I’ve thought about it so many times.”

“Really?”

“More than I’d like to admit.” 

He hovers over you, and rubs tip against your clit, making you both moan.

“Do you have condoms with you?” 

“Um...I think so.”

“Okay, go put one on.”

“You’re not on birth control?”

“I am.” He blinks at you. “Harry, no offense, but you’ve been with a lot of people, and until you get tested, I’m not letting that thing inside me without a condom.” 

He pretends to be offended, but gets off the bed to rummage for a condom. He slides it on once he finds it, and gets back on the bed. 

He slowly slides inside you as you grip his shoulders. He was big, maybe even a little too big. He stays inside you for a moment, giving you some time to get used to him. He starts to move slowly as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“You don’t have to be gentle with me.” You say into his ear. “I can take it.”

“You want it hard, baby?”

“Yes, please.” 

Harry pulls out of you almost the way, then slams inside you. You arch of the bed a little. 

“Do it again.” He smirks, and does as you say. 

He fucks you like this for the majority of the time. You tighten around him, and grind against him, coming very close to another release. 

“Fuck, Harry.” Your head goes back into the pillow as you come again. You tighten yourself around. “Want you to come too.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, please come for me Harry.” 

He quickens his motions, and they become sloppy. He moans out your name as he fills the condom, and collapses on top of you. You run your hands through his hair. He slowly pulls out of you and hiss at the loss of him. He gets up to dispose of the condom, then joins you once again. 

Harry pulls you onto his sweaty chest to hold you. 

“How was that, love?”

“Your dick is huge.” You both start giggling. “But in all seriousness, it was great.” You kiss him on the cheek. “It had, uh, been a while for me.”

“Same here, didn’t think I was gonna last as long as I did. You felt incredible.” You nuzzle into him. 

“What happens now?”

“Well, we have three days left here, then it’s back to reality. I’d love to take you on a real date when we get back to California. I could cook for you at home. You know, see where it all goes.” 

“Or I could just start calling you my boyfriend, and skip all that crap.” He looks down at you. 

“Works for me.” 

“Great. So, um, how many condoms did you bring with you?”

“Why, ready for a second round?”

You move to get on top of him, straddling his hips. 

“You said you’ve thought about this before. I wanna fulfill every fantasy you’ve had.” Harry swallows hard. Amazed that he get to see this side of you. 

//

You spent the next three days in and out of the room. You tried to enjoy the sun and warm water, but you both found yourselves wanting to just be alone and explore each other’s bodies. It was the most passionate sex you’ve ever had. 

You loved what you did every day. How many people got to say that? 

[trashforgubler]

Writings On the Wall

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You and Spencer are friends, but then you find a giant pile of unsent love letters that he wrote about you stored in his desk

Extra Info: Y’all seem to like Reid - centric fics so here ya go. Song is “Writings on the Wall” by Sam Smith

Inspired By: this really cute post   

Requests: Open

masterpost   

One more paragraph. Just one more. You could do this.

Well, maybe you could, but your last pen gave up the ghost halfway through the first sentence. Biting back a growl of frustration, you drop the pen and stare at it menacingly as it rolls across your page. Here you were, trying to get some work done for once and that thing has the audacity to tap out..

“Hey Y/N, Morgan and I are gonna go grab lunch. Wanna come?” Spencer’s tall form appeared in front of you, a giant smile plastered on his face per usual. You hated to admit it but his messy hair and wrinkled sweater looked particularly cute today. The offer was tempting, but you were afraid that if you didn’t get through your work now, you wouldn’t ever do it and the last thing you needed was Hotch on your ass about late assignments.

“No, I’m gonna take a raincheck. Sorry pretty boy.” The disappointment flashed on his face only momentarily before he promptly covered it up.

“Okay, well have fun with… that.” He said, gesturing to the never-ending pile of papers on your desk.

He waved goodbye as he and Morgan headed out of the room, before you called out to him, “Could I borrow a pen?”

“Yeah it’s in my desk!” He yelled from the elevators. You flashed him a quick thumbs up as the doors closed before walking over to it. Man, that dude has no right to be making fun of you for your desk. If yours was messy, his was catastrophic. Seriously, there was not an inch of it that wasn’t covered in empty coffee cups, old case reports, or some random paperback that your pretty sure no other human being could possibly have interest in. You eyed multiple books that weren’t even in English. A laugh escaped your lips as you realized Spencer’s desk is the perfect representation of Spencer himself. But, no matter how fun it was to count the number of coffee stains on his papers, you did actually come here for a reason. Unfortunately, Spencer was not to clear on the coordinates of his pens, so you started opening random drawers until you found them. After all, there were only three.

First drawer: More books, mostly overdue ones from the library. God this guy needs an e -reader.

Second drawer: His laptop, a package of expired cough drops, and an old sudoku puzzle book.

Third drawer: Paper. Lots of paper. Actually, so much paper, you could barely get the drawer open all the way. You wouldn’t have thought anything of it, until you saw your name written at the top of one of them.

You felt a tingle of guilt go through your body as you took the top sheet out and read it.

Dear Y/N,

You looked so beautiful today. I wanted to tell you, but I every time I look at you, I feel like I can’t speak. I can hear the words I want to say swirling around in my brain, but by the time I want to say them, I get so nervous that they don’t come out right. On the jet ride home today, I saw you in the back making tea. Only you could look so perfect doing such an arbitrary task. You looked so gorgeous I actually got out of my seat, suddenly feeling confident enough to tell you. I wanted to look into your eyes and say that your smile makes my heart flutter, and your laugh makes me want to cry. Not because it’s a bad laugh. Because it’s a beautiful laugh. On second thought, I probably wouldn’t say that. Its confusing. I wanted to tell you that you are the most exquisite thing I had ever seen. Instead, I asked you what kind of tea you were making. When you said mint, I said “mm caffeine.” After that complete failure at flirtation, I went back to my seat and tried to figure out what about you made me so jittery. I don’t know what it is. But I know that one day I’ll figure it out. And once I do, I’ll be able to tell you all of that, and so much more.

Love, Spencer

What? You had seen the way Spencer sneaks glances at you out of the corner of his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking, but you didn’t think much of it. You were friends. Of course, you definitely had a crush on him. You blushed the first time you shook hands with him, and ever since then you had been secretly hoping he would ask you out, but you didn’t think that he was interested. Guess you overestimated your profiling skills on that one. Setting the letter beside you on the floor, you looked back into the drawer. It only took a moment to realize the entire thing was stuffed with letters to you. One after the other you pulled them out. Some were multiple pages stapled together. Long lines that read like poetry. Others were barely legible scribbles on coffee stained sticky notes.

You said you liked my sweater today and I had to bite my tongue so I didn’t say, “It would look better on you.”

You were so enveloped in reading each and every scrap of paper in the drawer you completely lost track of time. Before you knew it, you heard Spencer’s laugh coming toward you, and there was no time to hide what you had found.

“And then I- nomygod!” Spencer’s carefree tone was replaced by sheer panic when he saw you on your knees, next to a giant pile of paper and a now empty bottom drawer. You knew you had to address it, but you weren’t quite sure how to start this conversation. You had been reading for so long you almost forgot how to speak. Maybe Spencer’s social awkwardness was contagious.

Not trusting yourself to form a coherent sentence, you settled for a drawn out, “Hey, Spence.” Sheepishly, you stared at the papers on the floor, knowing it was beyond obvious what you had done. On the one hand, you felt guilty. It’s his desk, his letters, his privacy was being evaded. But on the other hand, they were all about you, and the man clearly needs help expressing his feelings.

“Did you- ”

“Yep.”

“All of them?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” Spencer tucked his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground, not knowing where to start. One of his biggest and most embarrassing secrets had just been discovered from the one person he was determined to hide it from.

“Okay,” Derek started. Both you and Spencer jerked your heads up at him, completely forgetting that he was still there. “I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourselves into, but I’m just gonna go hang out with Garcia while you to figure out… this.” He said gesturing to the mess. He laughed and playfully hit Spencer on the shoulder, clearly seeing that he was beyond embarrassed by whatever was going on.

“Spence…”

“I – I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it’s weird and its creepy but I just had all these feelings and I could never talk about them because I didn’t know how so I just wrote them out and hoped that they would help me actually talk to you but it obviously didn’t help and I just kept writing them anyways and oh my god this is so embarrassing.” He turned a shade of red you didn’t know human beings were even capable of. Nothing in life had ever prepared you for a situation like this, so you did what you always do when people you love are upset.

You stood up from the floor and placed your hands on his shoulders, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “I love you too Spence,” you said softly. The smile on his face was indescribable as he wrapped his arms tight around your body.

[takethisroad]

you should do a fic recs post 👀

AAYYYYEEEE

mkay so obviously this is going to vary wildly for people because these are my fave BS fics and the only factor I have in choosing them is: DOES IT SPARK WILD EMOTIONS AND MAKE ME WANT TO HURL MYSELF OUT A WINDOW (IN A GOOD WAY)?

Will I be giving coherent plot summaries? No. Will I be screaming about the elements I love loud enough to break the sound barrier? YES.

In no particular order:

- Seedlings by twofrontteethstillcrooked

Silverflint modern AU. LISTEN. Not only am I a SLUT for modern aus, but also the TONE? The atmosphere? The growing sense of intimacy? THE FUCKING HUMOUR? Please, the first time I read the sentence about Vane, I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. (Everything this author has written for BS is solid gold. The taco salad fic? Impeccable.)

-don’t come closer, don’t let go of me by youatemytailor

Sometimes I like to drown in my silverflint feelings and this still brings tears to my eyes on the reread, so. Angsty post-finale fic.

- Stimulus by astronautsquid

Flinthamilton post-canon HOLY SHIT SHIT SHIT. Okay, like? Sometimes you are in the mood for two middle-aged men who have Been Through It slowly reconnecting with each other and also with their bodies, and sometimes you find the most breathtaking fic detailing this and sometimes after you read it your chest aches and you need to lie on the floor and cry for a bit. Ya know? (The erectile dysfunction fic you never knew you needed.)

- choose for my triumph an easier end by whimsicalimages

OT4! OT4! Silvermadiflinthamilton + kidfic! I am 10000% here for exasperated uncle James, inquisitive children, and everyone dunking on John Silver. A+ fluff and love.

- The Cup of Their Deserving (the wages of their virtue) by DreamingPagan

OKAY O K A Y O  K AAAA  YYYY . This fic? How do I even begin. It literally redefined how I see canon. The BEST Madi pov I’ve read in all 226 pages on the archive (seriously, just. I can’t get over it, I was hooked on her by the end of the first paragraph, her anger, her compassion, all of it). Seeing James and Thomas reunited and healing together was a gd balm for my soul (do you want to cry about Thomas Hamilton? Please read this fic. Read the part about the clothes.) I was angry over Silver’s actions in the finale, and reading this fic was so fuckin cathartic after that. Whew. I can’t recommend this one highly enough. (ALSO do yourselves a favour and check out Reclamation for ANOTHER EPIC TAKE on things post-canon and ridiculously cute rarepair Vane/Madi which actually works???)

- in, out by woodlands but actually just do yourself a favour and read everything @halewoods​ has written

I don’t even normally bookmark angst but I sure do when it knocks my socks off like this!! Please read to have your heart break even more for James Flint than you previously thought possible, and also for absolutely captivating writing.

- the ENTIRETY of please do not let me go by natlet

Silverflint. This WHOLE SERIES is my FAVOURITE THING IN THE ENTIRE FANDOM. It's like someone reached into my brain, saw all of my buttons and pressed every single one of them at once. Epic tenderness, newfound emotional awakenings, soft SOFT feelings, desperately hot sex, not a single chapter without some kind of hurt/comfort, MULTIPLE counts of James Flint receiving said comfort, heartbreakingly gentle caretaking, and all of this with the best narrative voice for Silver that I've yet seen, and the most fucking insightful look at Silver and Flint's relationship that I have yet come across. CANNOT recommend this highly enough, especially if you, like me, have a serious case of “wanting James Flint to be loved”-itis.

- James Flint Appreciation Week by fandomfan

Silverflint, does what it says on the tin and does it DELICIOUSLY. James Flint gets the love and appreciation he deserves! There’s a line in here that absolutely undid me. The James Dates series is also well worth a read!

There’s more, there’s TONS more, but these are the ones I have bookmarked and readily available. I’m sure none of these are new to anyone, anyway, since they’re all near the top results if you filter by bookmarks, but! Just in case.

[capricornus-rex]

heey, i was wondering if you could make an imagine with cal, in which he likes the reader and everyone knows but she is oblivious to it. Thanks in advance and sorry if my english isn't perfect I am actually Brazilian. Love ur writing btw

Hey there! I could definitely make it, hence this fic hehe ;) It was fun writing it because an oblivious reader is a first for me. You’re welcome and don’t worry, your english is fine! I hope I didn’t use any difficult words in the fic for you. And thank you! Hope you like the fic 😁😊💕

“The Two Faces of Bracca”

Cal Kestis x Reader

Tags: Non-Jedi! Reader, Oblivious! Reader

Masterlist

The rain had stopped for once in Bracca.

Cal’s division was granted a half-day. It has been a while since they last received such a privilege—that is technically a work benefit—after working on the new acquisitions for a whole week.

“See ya later, Cal!” Prauf waved as Cal walked away.

“Yeah, you too!” the young boy waved back.

He navigated through the inside of the gigantic machinery: shimmying through tight spaces, scaling grates from one level to another, and swung on ropes between large gaps. Cal was a natural at this—after all, he practically grew up here. After passing by a few more workers who have recognized him—and his purpose—they point him to a direction the moment they meet eyes with him; Cal, in turn, nods back at them as a silent thanks, then continues on his way.

He traverses through a series of winding turns in halls that are now tilted sideways due to the position of the ship, risky climbs that involved grabbing on rickety ventilation grates, and climbing up a thick cable as the last part of his route to reach the bridge of an abandoned Republic frigate.

“Hey, [y/n]!” he called as he pulls himself up to the ledge of the opening.

You immediately stop your welding, took off you mask and acknowledged his presence.

“Oh Cal, hey there,”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

He walked up to you and stood next to you, glancing over your shoulder and studying whatever it was you were tinkering.

“What are you still doing here? Today’s a half day!”

“Oh, right. I clocked out earlier with the rest of you guys, I just went back to finish this.”

“A speeder?”

“Yeah, well, sometimes the lifts barely fly or that the pilot droid’s busted so I figured this would be a better alternative—it’s only a prototype. I think it isn’t conducive for driving yet. I was just about to finish for today.”

You blanketed the speeder with an old canvas tarp and prepared to get yourself cleaned. Cal willingly helped you out in putting away your tools.

“So, are you going to Qeb’s blow-out tonight? His treat, he says.”

“Oh, that was today?”

Cal nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there!” you beamed.

“Great! I was… I was thinking we’d go there together.”

“I’d really love that, Cal,”

You could’ve sworn you spotted some color on Cal’s cheeks—even in the dimness of the sky and under the roof of your hideout. You bite your lip and pretend that you didn’t notice it.

“Well, that should be all of your stuff. I gotta go and get changed too.”

“Sure, I’ll see you tonight then,”

“Meet me at the scrapyard’s entrance gates?”

“Of course,”

Cal dismissed himself and left the bridge in the same path he got there. As soon as he got far enough from the bridge, he smuggled a celebratory smile and hissed a very private “Yes!” as he exited your hideout.

Cal met up with Prauf shortly after his visit to you.

“Oh, there you are, kid! Where have you run off to?”

“I just went to [y/n],” Cal couldn’t resist the smile curling up in his lip, it was one of those unconscious yet natural smiles. “I asked her to come with to Qeb’s little party at the pub.”

“So, it’s a date then?” Prauf teased, seeing that he was hopelessly smitten.

The warm color returned to Cal’s cheeks and he has no full control of it. The boy stammers his way to a coherent answer. Prauf bellowed in an endeared laughter.

“Come on, it’s not like that…” Cal defended.

“Oh, Cal, I think it is like that!”

Cal shrugged off the teasing and headed back to his place—an abandoned Venator that he has made into his home. He sheds his black-and-orange poncho on a makeshift rack—one of the many makeshift fixtures that he has resourcefully crafted ever since he’s called dibs on the abandoned ship—followed by removing the top part of his jumpsuit and then proceeds to get himself cleaned.

It was quiet inside his Venator home, but it was a peace that he had grown accustomed to.

He splashes a handful of cold water onto his face. He tilts his face away from the basin, letting the droplets trickle down his neck, his collarbones, and finally down to the groove in the center of his chest. The moonlight shines over the mirror with his foggy reflection, he gently scratches away the grime that collected on his face which he subsequently rinses off. He sighed under the moonlight, then scoops water into his cupped hands and brings it to his mouth. For his finishing touch, he combs and rakes his scarlet hair back like how he always have kept it.

Donning a fresh, black jumpsuit and a second poncho that looks exactly the same as the one he hung, he exits the Venator and makes his way to the entrance gates of the scrapyard—exactly where he promised you and he would meet.

“There you are,”

Your voice caused Cal to spin around until he spots you standing next to him. This was his first time seeing you with your hair down, since you always wear it in a ponytail during work. He examined you from head to toe: a black shirt under a navy blue, sleeveless leather coat, beige pants, and black boots. A new sight from your usually scrapper’s blue jumpsuit and poncho.

“Have you been waiting for a while?” you hummed.

“No, no. Not really,”

“Oh, that’s a relief. Thought I kept you waiting.”

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry,” he smiled.

Cal walked by your side on the way to the pub, the both of you shouldered through the dense crowd in the city. It wasn’t an easy route though, some of the people accidentally bump or brush against your shoulder or arm as you follow the flow of the foot traffic. Cal decided to put his hand on the small of your back—which somehow made you flinch—guiding you while keeping you close to him.

“You look great, by the way,” Cal bashfully said, in the very little window of time where neither of you are pushing your way through the traffic.

“Thanks, you too.”

Eventually, you’ve arrived to the bar where the get-together was happening. It seems that they were about to start when you and Cal came in. There weren’t many who came, but most of them were from work—ones that you worked closely with and the friendlier ones too. All of you shared a table, exchanged stories about the past week over some drinks.

“I saw [y/n] work on something cool earlier,” Cal blurted and now everyone wants in on it.

“Oh? Let’s hear it!” Qeb, the Besalisk host, insisted.

“Nah, it was only a prototype. It’s a speeder I modified that can carry a few kilos of scrap—in case the lifts are busted.”

“Dibs on the first test drive once you’ve finished it,” Cal casually blurts.

“You got it,” you smile before bringing your glass to your mouth.

At the corner of his eye, Cal saw that Prauf was looking at him funny—but the scrapper boy clearly knows the message that his friend was trying to send. When you have put down the glass, it was too late for Cal to make the move for now. The conversation evolved into a banter of engineering tips, then it eventually transitioned into a recollection of each other’s funny stories that happened at work.

Apparently, the night was still young for Cal and you, even after Qeb’s get-together treat. Cal waited until Prauf, Qeb, and the others have left. He gently nudges you on the arm.

“Come on, follow me.”

A smirk plays along his face and takes a step ahead of you. Intrigued, you willingly followed; fortunately, the foot traffic was sparse, which made it easier for you to catch up to him. Cal led you back at the scrapyard, but along the way, you realize that it’s a route that’s unfamiliar to you.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, you’ll see!”

The farther you got, the more interesting this became.

“Careful when climbing the cable. Hope you’re not afraid of heights!”

“I’m kinda used to heights!” you chuckled.

The faint creaking of the cable that you were climbing on somehow worried you, but you didn’t let it ruin the fun; the sound of the twanging sound of the cable made your heart skip as you scaled it.

“Whoa!” you gasped when the cable loosened and jiggled, you were still clinging onto it—and you were only mere inches away from the ledge where the rope ends.

In that same split second, you felt Cal’s tight grasp on your arm, you tilt your head up and meet eyes with him.

“Don’t worry, I got you!” he reassured you.

You were startled from the near-death experience that you couldn’t say anything, though he sensed your gratitude.

“Come on, give me your other hand.” He coaxed.

You linked arms with one another and he pulls you up. He loses his footing causing him to stumble to his back, on the other hand, you landed on top of him while he was still clutching you in his arms. You gently lift your heads, exchanged glances at one another, and saw color fill your cheeks. The two of you communicated in small chuckles and shy stutters.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you bring yourself to your feet, offering him your hand which he gladly takes.

The cycle continued when you pull him up to his feet, his weight nearly made you lose your footing, but he caught you just in time by wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Got you—again.”

Cal releases you after a few seconds and then beckons you to follow him again.

“Are we close?”

“Yup!”

At last, he has led you to the highest point in the scrapyard, atop another Republic command ship but he has brought you to the roof of the main command center—or the bridge. The cold air was breathtaking, as well as the sight that the scrapyard has to offer—silhouettes of ships as far as the eye can see, dark indigo clouds looming in front of the pale, ivory moon.

“Oh wow…” you sighed. “I don’t think I’ve never seen a view of the scrapyard like this before.”

“Wait till you see Option B.”

He chuckled a bit, brings his finger to your cheek, and gently angles your head to the other direction.

The second view stole what little air remained in your lungs. It was a citywide view of Bracca: gigantic hologram projections of advertisements danced between blinding neon lights of every color, speeders and pods sped through in neat lines as they leave trails of lights from their taillights, even the people dotting the streets added some color.

“Oh God…” you gasped. “Why didn’t I see this before?”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Cal said while producing two cans of Jawa juice that he apparently bought earlier at the pub while you weren’t looking. He offered you the second one and clinked cans with one another.

You conversed while staring into the neon light-filled horizon of Bracca. The two of you had the same pose of propping your chins over your fists while sightseeing side-by-side.

Both of you spent the night with more stories, whether they were from the distant pasts—way before either of you ended up in Bracca—your plans for the future, the present, or shallow secrets. No detail was spared from this intimate conversation. In fact, it was one of the very rare moments that you actually open up—Cal was the only person you trusted and he has the same sentiment for you.

Your contagious laughter made Cal’s stomach fill with butterflies as he shared one story about himself as a child involving a cookie jar that didn’t belong to him, conspiring with one of the elderly keepers, and splitting the bounty—which were the cookies—until two in the morning.

When it appeared that neither of you have any more stories of your past to tell, you shift back into the topic of this place that he has brought you to.

“Do you always come here?”

He shakes his head, “Just occasionally.”

“I’m surprised you’ve kept a scene like this to yourself for so long. It’s just so pretty up here.”

“Yeah,” he cooed, then turned his head to you, his next word was a soft whisper. “Pretty.”

Cal watched the streaks of neon flicker as mere lines over your eyes, their glow mingled as they illuminated your face altogether, a smile slowly curls up at the corner of his lips; you slowly turn your head to him, never have you ever been this physically close to him you could practically kiss him.

You shoot him a bashful smile before returning your attention to the cityscape. Seeing your smile was always enough for him, he examined your features once more—for some reason, you looked somewhat a different person when not in your scrapper’s uniform. Nevertheless, he released a long, contented sigh, savoring the night with you by his side.

[strawberryybird]

a handy basic compliment builder

IDK about y’all but i’ve been reading 20x the fic I was a month ago, mostly at 2am when i can’t sleep and i’m holding my phone on a 45° angle to keep the screen from turning. and because i’m reading ungodly amounts of fic after the sun sets, I forget to comment, and I like being able to comment coherent compliments. So! I made a comment builder. 

I struggle for 85 reasons in a trench coat to comment on fics - it’s something i find really hard! genuinely really hard! One of the pertinent reasons being I’m dyslexic, and I can read a fic, love it, and then read other comments and realise I’ve accidentally read a very different version of the fic than they all did. So I keep my comments short, vague in my love and specific in what i love, and overtly positive! This isn’t a rigid structure to be followed at all times! This is my own personal style, that I thought I would share! by all means, adapt it to your own style! :)

Welcome to my ‘Victoria Sponge Compliment’ method! It, like a victoria sponge cake, has 4 main parts: ‘Adjective of Positivity’, ‘Favourite Thing’, ‘Why I Liked That Thing’, and ‘Thank you’. 

(I write this to be fic-commenting specific, but replace the some of the language like ‘dialogue’ to ‘colour choice’ and you’ve got yourself a handy-dandy art compliment method too!)

1. The Cake: Adjective of Positivity: what adjective will I use to encapsulate the likely emotional roller-coaster the fic sent me on? With longfic, angst and assorted serious topics, I tend to stick to more formal adjectives, but with comedy, I end up leaning more towards informal words. but that’s a me problem. here’s a handy list:

great, amazing, brilliant, fantastic, ‘so so good’, awesome, ‘my heart can’t take it!’ excellent, ‘every second was enjoyable’, delightful, enchanting, ‘OH the Emotions! I loved it!’

The point of this isn’t to reduce the amount of love you feel, it’s really just to start off the comment in a really positive way. I’ve read some old exchanged between reader and author where the reader doesn’t actually say they Liked the fic until halfway down a comment chain! so i like to be upfront with my love! 

2. The Jam: A Favourite Thing: character/quote/scene/emotion provoked

You liked all of it? absolutely say so in as many iterations as you please! You liked a couple of things really strongly? Pick them out and say so! the author probably loved writing them!

Maybe it’s a poignant quote that made you stand up and walk around the house before opening back up the fic? the way Ferdinand’s speech was phrased just so perfectly? the way the mutual pining unraveled like string? the part where you laughed harder than you have all day? The hilarious 2 lines of dialogue you’ve been repeating to yourself for the last week?

i like to just pick the one thing at first, quantify it, and compliment it. that leads the way to add More Awesome Things i liked in the fic!!

3. The Cream: say WHY you liked it!!

now this is the part I struggle with most! because there’s so much to say! So I go as specific as I can:  Rather than comment on Everything in the fic, I say why I liked The Jam^ above. Pick the one thing, and go from there.

Maybe it fell completely in line with how you see Ferdinand’s character, and you loved seeing your interpretation corroborated in the author’s work? Maybe the mutual pining made it really entertaining? Maybe it shone new light on characters for you, and now you love them dearly? Maybe the humour was top notch and you laughed the most you have in a week, or maybe the angst was exactly what you needed to read that day?

Maybe the descriptions of the settings were so visceral? Maybe you loved the detail, it made it feel so real? Maybe you discovered a new format, or structure, and you loved how unique it was? Maybe you liked the references to classical works? Maybe you loved the humourous narrative voice? 

Was the yearning tangible? Did your heart skip a metaphorical beat? Did you shed a tear? Was it cathartic? Did it bring you joy? Did it brighten your day? Did you accidentally spend your evening reading the whole thing, and now suddenly it’s 3am and you didn’t mean to cry about fictional people, but here you are?? (a mood), those emotions it made you feel – that’s worth saying!

My approach to this part tends to end up being about ‘This made me Feel Emotions and i Loved that.’ and that’s fine! 

4. Cake Again: say thank you!! :)

‘Thank you for sharing your work’, ‘i’m so glad i got to read this today’, ‘this was so much fun to read, thank you!’, ‘thank you so so much op!!’, ‘brilliant way to spend my afternoon!’ ‘your work brightened my day!’ ‘this made me so happy to read! thank you!’

you can indeed add a note about future work! I tend to favour things like: ‘thank you for all the work so far, looking forward to seeing what happens next!’, “i’m so invested in this fic lmao, see you in the next chapter!’ or something else if the author doesn’t explicitly say ‘don’t ask me for updates’. I want to be extra-polite about it, and emphasis how much I liked the work that exists already!

But this doesn’t include con-crit, or have any space to give negative or constructive feedback! why? Now that’s a whole separate post. In brief, I don’t like to give con-crit when it isn’t explicitly asked for. there’s many posts out there debating this exact thing, and this isn’t a post about that. this is for building simple, basic compliments. You’ll also notice that it’s all positive feedback. That’s because I don’t comment on fic I don’t like.. that’s not exactly the energy I want to have in the world. use this victoria sponge metaphor for good, ya know?

You’ll notice this is incredibly basic, and something more akin to the essay paragraph structure my teachers spent 3 years battling to get me to write with. That’s both correct and intentional. This is the best balance I’ve been able to strike between coming off heartfelt and genuine, and short enough that I can write and send it in less than 120 seconds before my fear and lack of energy get the better of me. There’s nothing wrong with ‘I loved this, thank you!’, but sometimes I want to brave the fear of commenting and, overall, say thank you. That’s what it all comes down to because, as a writer, someone telling me how many emotions my work gave them is an indescribably wonderful feeling. and I want to share that joy! and also I really wanted to use a cake metaphor.

Finally, if you’re unfamiliar, the Long Live Feedback project on tumblr is an Excellent resource, and I encourage everyone to poke around and have a look at the wonderful work they do! also the blog ao3commentoftheday is an excellent blog who discusses comments, commenting convention, and all round fic writing!

Happy Commenting, enjoy the cake, and thanks for reading!

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

No nut Content November

Heyy fellas. For someone who tries to writes I’m terribly bad with word. I love y’all so much, these 8 months have decided to share my writing have been so much fun (I know how it sounds but this isn’t a farewell message lol I ain’t going nowhere) but here’s the thing.

Writing doesn’t come easy at all, for anyone. It takes so much effort to come up with coherent sentences to explain your ideas and thoughts. Doesn’t matter if it’s a 200 word blurb or a fully formed 200k series, but we do it. And we do it for free (most of us but you get the point).

I’ve admired and appreciated writers for so long and I thought I understood but lemme tell you, you don’t know shit until you’ve tried it. But, majority of content creators honestly don’t get enough appreciation, here or anywhere. People have to put up with shit like not getting enough reblogs or comments or worse, getting rude, offensive anons about their writing and shit.

Personally, when I’ve created something, or have an idea to write something and share it with y’all I get so fucking excited I literally don’t think about anything else for like a week or something. And when I’m done I can’t wait to post it that very second and I obsessively load my activity page for any tiny bit of comments from y’all. I don’t reply to all cos honestly I just don’t know what to say to them but I just love them so much. So ya, it’s very discouraging when I post something and get like 9 likes for it.

A bit late to this but I’m gonna just take the remaining days of November to not post content but just reblog and appreciate my fellow writers’ content and my own. Feel free to unfollow me if it gets annoying. But imma reblog and comment the shit out of any fic that catches my eyes. Feel free to tag me in your posts too if you wanna. So ya really sorry for this long ass word vomit no one would bother to read but shiiiit we’re doing this.