#it took me way longer than it should’ve to find a line to share

[cq-studios]

2. 🍄 Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

7. 🖍 Post any sentence from your wip

2. Imprisonment + Friendship building = Unlikely Friend

7. Strelitzia. The name rang in his head like bells, reverberating through his whole body. Something about it was familiar, important.

Very important.

This is a line from a fic I’m writing about Ven and amatonormativity. Kinda a stupid concept where Ven hyperfocuses on Strelitzia (when she gets back with Sora post-KH4) because he can sense she has some connection to his past, and everyone thinks it’s a crush because she makes him nervous and het-norm and Atatonormativity. It doesn’t really make sense if you look to deep into it, but I have fun using the concept to make Ven uncomfortable (and bond with Kairi) lol

[somethingscft]

it’s been an entire year since theo had graced these halls, lined with messy children’s art and even wackier photos from the school’s events. the harsh smell of lysol that took weeks to leave his nostrils was making a strong comeback. but in a weird way, he missed this place. he missed the dumb questions six-year-olds asked him — how unintentionally hilarious they were. seeing the lightbulb above their heads switch on when they finally understand why 2+2=4, it warmed his heart. there was never a dull moment in that place, especially with all the characters among the staff, but theo couldn’t take the structure of a school environment. he hated the micromanagement, the parents, the mandates — the walking around on eggshells. it drove him nuts and eventually out of the place. theo only returned to substitute for one of the teachers on maternity leave; the school were desperate, paying him more than he made when he was full-time. he’d be an idiot not to take that deal. plus, it was only temporary.

the entire system was fucked, but theo was able to find solace in nora, his old partner-in-crime. she was the only person in that place that made sense to him. he couldn’t have gotten through that year without her — all the silly ideas they shared for the kids, how she covered for him without question. her presence soothed him on those days when his fuse was shorter than it should’ve been. they had each other’s back in there, and he just left. he left her with nothing, and they hadn’t spoken since. even upon his arrival back, they had only exchanged cursory glances and barely audible “morning”s. two days in, and he couldn’t take not speaking to her any longer.

after dismissing his students for lunch, he told the other substitutes that he’d meet them in the teachers lounge, but a particularly annoying one lingered by his classroom, quickly dubbing him as her work husband. he wanted to hurl. “i think i left my lunch in my car — you go ahead without me. i'll be there in a second,” theo insisted, waiting until she out of sight to pull the paper bag out of his desk drawer. he moved stealthily down the quiet hall to find his solace. seeing her there, in her own little world, sent a sharp pang of guilt straight to his chest. he didn’t realize how much he missed her until she looked up at him — a supercut of all the moments they shared projected into his mind’s eye. “hey — hi,” were the words that left him when he realized he hadn’t said a word for nearly a minute. “didn’t see you in the lounge yesterday…” he took a step past the threshold. “i wanted to talk to you,” he tried not to sound desperate, “i understand if you don’t want to…but i still need a place to hide. i think jen’s trying to fuck me.” he mouthed the swear word, moving away from the door in case she came looking.

closed muse/starter for @somethingscft​​

“i’ll see you all after the lunch hour!”

nora smiled at her young students who had been waiting patiently for dismissal the second the clock struck 12:30. the usual silence that fell over this time of day -- kids slowing down from lack of energy -- was abruptly interrupted by the piercing screech of metal chairs against linoleum. she chuckled to herself as she watched them rush for their disney lunch boxes and jackets from the cubbies and file into the hallway in what felt like a matter of seconds. she couldn’t blame their eagerness. she was excited for her lunch break, too. 

she grabbed her worn gingham lunch bag from the file drawer in her desk and settled comfortably into her chair, taking out a bag of grapes with one hand and fishing around her purse for her airpods with the other. every day she spent her lunch hour doing the same thing -- curling up in the back corner of the teacher’s lounge with her lunch and her latest favorite rewatch podcast of an old teen 00s tv show. it had become a comfort to her after theo left, as it gave her time to recharge and hide from the whispers of her fellow faculty who wondered what the hell had happened between them. while the whispers did stop after awhile, she knew they’d be back in full swing now that he had found his way back to town. to combat the gossip and avoid seeing him, she moved her beloved routine to her desk, wishfully thinking it would stop her from running into him again the remainder of the school year. that same logic had carried her into the end of the day as well, when she would gingerly help her kids onto the bus and then run like a bat out of hell to grab her tote bag of work to grade and head home. 

she popped a red grape into her mouth, the sweetness bursting between her back teeth as she successfully wrapped her fingers around her headphones. when she looked back up at her classroom, the familiar frame of her former love friend was now standing in the doorway, brown bag clutched tightly in his hand. her heart dropped in her chest and she nearly choked on the juice of the grape before swallowing. seeing theo felt just as painful and fresh as it did when he showed up monday morning. but she wasn’t going to show him a damn thing of how she felt. she may have spent those first few months crying over the grief of what could’ve been and numerous unanswered texts, but she spent the others knowing she would never let him or any man break her heart like that again. 

nora stood up, putting on her best professional tone, posture as straight as ever as her eyes burned into his.  

“can i help you with something, mr. evans?” 

[softmafia]

𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒞𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒥𝓊𝓂𝓅

Warnings: fem y/n, nsfw, scratching, grinding, oc insert(should’ve started tagging this a long time ago, oopsies)

A/n: Self indulgent. The amount of times I accidentally posted this before I finished it are insane😭I don’t know if tumblr updated or if I’m just stupid. Sorry for the shitty dialogue I’m feeling very sick so my mind is a bit hazy, but anything is sexy in Hisoka’s voice if you just try.

Hisoka bore his teeth behind his lips at the sight in his kitchen.. the girl that was dressed in his shirt, and his boxers around her hips; one careless jump away from falling down and around her ankles. Fuck.

Hisoka stood in the doorway of the kitchen, hands on his hips as he watched the woman rummage through his refrigerator, it’s not like he had anything special in there anyway.. he rarely ever stayed in this apartment or used anything. Before Y/n came along half of the food he had stored in there would’ve gone bad due to him being away on missions and chasing after the Phantom Troupe, but now he had this little scavenger to eat it all up for him before the fruits started to rot.

The girl turned her head, it’s not like she just now noticed his presence.. she felt him standing there, ogling her from behind. Y/n smirked at him behind her shoulder, looking at him with her beady little eyes, “Take a picture it’ll last longer~” her voice was raspy from having just woken up, she took a sip of an apple juice box; ah, Hisoka remembered her putting a whole pack of that in his fridge. He didn’t know why she liked those tiny juice boxes so much. She just sucked it all up in under 30 seconds, then leave it on the ground for him to painstakingly collect and throw away. However, he did find it satisfying when she poked the straws in that little hole, sometimes she would miss, then howl in frustration. He would turn his head away from her gaze to uncontrollably smirk; it was amusing to watch sometimes.

The magician smirked and walked towards her, “Ahah~ well I have the real thing right at my fingertips~” he whispered, looking down at the woman. His golden, narrow eyes met her e/c doe eyes. “I think that’s much better than a mere picture~”

Y/n looked at him, gnawing on the tip of the straw. Her pupils darted around, scanning his face before she grinned again, “Ok.” She spun around completely, walking out of the kitchen and leaving Hisoka to his own devices. A puff of air escaped the magicians nose as he watched her walk off; he couldn’t take his eyes off of her whenever she did that, the way her hips swayed; moving back and forth as she carried on her merry way, her free arm was slightly lifted upwards. Her little walk never failed to light a fire in the magician’s loins, it didn’t help now that his boxers on her hips were riding so unbearably low to the point he had gotten a glimpse to the line of her asscrack; that sight wasn’t new to him, but seeing it other than when he was sleeping with her made his cock throb.

Hisoka turned away once she was out of view, his brows furrowed as he placed a hand firmly over his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to silence the thoughts of perversion in his mind. The memories of her last night, sprawled out naked below him, his hand right under her breast that bounced with his thrusts, the burning sensation on his chest from how her nails dragged on his skin, ripping the tissue and drawing blood. The man sighed, a gravelly noise escaped his throat as his eyes opened again. What has this girl done to me.. his lips curled into a smirk, then let out a soft chuckle. His hand fell to his thigh after he slicked back his fuchsia bangs.

“Come in my house, lay in my bed, eat my food..” Hisoka grumbled as he followed after Y/n, wherever she went. His voice echoed through the halls of their shared apartment, he knew she could hear him, “I think you should be more kind to me dear~ nobody gets these privileges from me~” he entered the living room, where he found the girl sitting on his couch, looking innocent as she gnawed that straw to hell and back. All she did was smirk at him as he stepped closer to her, his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants. “One day you might just brat yourself into a slit throat, dear~” he cooed, an empty threat.

They both knew deep down, no matter what, Hisoka couldn’t bring himself to end Y/n’s life.

He quickly plucked the chewed up straw out of her mouth, holding it between his two fingers; he wasn’t disgusted by her saliva.. god if he had a dollar for how many times this woman had spat in his mouth..

“You shouldn’t eat plastic~” he flicked the straw across the room, over the girl’s head and behind the couch.

“I wasn’t eating it.” She frowned at him, letting her legs drop to the floor, her hands on her thighs as she glared up at him.

He couldn’t help but smirk, her little poses were always so cute.. always spreading her legs when she sat, hunched over to try and look intimidating, but she just made herself more adorable in his eyes.

Hisoka sat on the couch beside of Y/n, close enough so that the sides of their thighs were touching, he could practically feel the softness of her bare thigh through his sweatpants, “Mm..” he hummed softly under his breath as he smoothly hooked an arm around her shoulders, his other hand moved to her thigh, caressing it, moving up and down in a soft motion. He looked at her, seeing her eyes glued on his hand in thought; he dreamed of prying open her brain and seeing what went on inside of it.. his girl was shrouded in mystery, unpredictable and impulsive. A mirror of his own life, the embodiment of his own darkness and indulgences, his perfect little vice. Though a part of him dreaded her unreadable expression. Did she secretly hate what Hisoka was doing to her? Was she nervous? Scared? The last thing Hisoka wanted to do was hurt her, or scare her away, she was more than a toy to him even if he wanted to admit it or not; she was an ally, his lover.. he couldn’t loose her.

Being too lost in his thought, his breath hitched in surprise as Y/n suddenly shifted, moving into his lap to straddle his thigh. Her little giggle left her lips as her fingers gently danced down his sharp jawline, the girl’s eyes met his wide ones, “Love you~”

Hisoka calmed down from his moment of shock, he chuckled and put his hands on her hips, “I love you too~”

She said those words to him all of the time.. and he would reciprocate; it was always random moments when she would verbalize his love to him, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought she was casting a spell on him or something.. why else would this seemingly cold, unloving man find comfort in this girl’s touch? It was most likely Y/n’s skittish, yet nervous nature, she didn’t know the right words to say, or the right moment to say it; so she just spoke those words of endearment.

Y/n kept her eyes locked with Hisoka’s, she whimpered quietly as she started to move her hips in a slow motion, rubbing back and forth on his thigh. She made sure to push her crotch down as hard as she could, wanting to feel his muscles though the barrier of cloth that kept them apart. “Ah,” Hisoka whispered when he felt the pressure of Y/n coming down on him, “Easy,” he cooed at her, holding her hips and guiding her at a steady pace; and comfortable distance. Y/n’s brows furrowed upwards as she felt the fabric of Hisoka’s boxers brush against her clit, “H-Hah~” she breathed out, her hand slid down to Hisoka’s shoulder, squeezing it as she moved at his pace.

He felt the girl’s nails dig into his skin, making him grit his teeth, wincing at the pain but god damn did it feel good. His body was covered in scratches, some healed; some fresh, all from Y/n, the woman making her mark on him. It burned so good, and made the hard dent in the crotch of his sweatpants throb unbearably.

Y/n shivered in Hisoka’s grip, her eyes fluttered, blinking wildly before she screwed them shut, “Ah-! Hahh~!” Her voice cracked as she shuffled on his lap, she pressed her forehead to his shoulder and lifted her hips up, “Get off..” she muttered, a hint of frustration to her voice as she focused on pulling down the boxers that hung baggy on her. She made do with slipping one leg out of the cloth, letting the boxers squeeze around her thigh instead. She pushed her hips into his hands again, a shaky sigh left her mouth when his sweatpants made contact with her wet clit.

Hisoka watched the girl with much amusement, a smirk on his lips the entire time; amused on how she was so focused on what she wanted, seeing that little bit of frustration jump out as she wiggled his boxers off of herself. “Ngh~” Y/n lifted her head up again to reconnect their gaze. “Happy now~?” Hisoka mused, leaning his face towards hers until his lips were barely grazing under her eye. Y/n nodded as they both commenced with her thigh-grinding.

Hisoka adored that look in her eye, he reveled in the soft noises he helped milk out of her, she was undeniably his.. his vice, the little ace up his sleeve, the itch in his crotch.

Y/n’s hand moved down Hisoka’s body, feeling the rough exterior of his muscled physique, he looked nearly similar to a statue carved from stone if you’d squint, her hand trailed down until it reached that bulge. Hisoka breathed out, which made her eye twitch at the little puff of breath so close to her face, but she squeezed and pawed at his crotch nonetheless. The movement of her hips began to get faster, Hisoka helped her keep a steady rhythm as she pawed at his crotch.

Her slick began to rub off on Hisoka’s pants, creating a dark, sticky, wet smudge; but neither of them seemed to care.. Hisoka would just blame it on a spill if the laundry machine couldn’t wash it out. But Christ sake who doesn’t own a pair of sweatpants that aren’t stained? “I..” Y/n rasped out, making sure her eyes were kept locked with his, no matter how hard she wanted to blink or completely close hers, “I love you..” she whispered. Hisoka chuckled, squeezing her hips, “I love you too~” Y/n smiled, but immediately jerked up, her back arched as her mouth opened in a silent scream. Hisoka let out a quiet grunt as he pushed her hips down; she squeezed his crotch so perfectly. They came at the same time; her juices spilled on his thigh, and his seed spurted inside of his pants.. the mess they made together.

Y/n fell forward again, panting heavily and laying limp against Hisoka’s body as he held her, his hands were moved to her thighs as equally heavy breaths left his own lips. He heard her giggle, which put a smile on his face, he closed his eyes and tilted his head to rest on the back of the couch. “We’re so messy~” she teased, reaching between her legs and scooping some of her wetness with her fingers, then holding them to Hisoka’s lips. The man happily wrapped his tongue around her wet fingers, licking them clean until the only thing staining her fingers was his saliva. He groaned with delight as the sweet, salty flavor coated his tongue. “Made a mess of my damn pants..” he laughed breathily, with the rare occurrence of a profanity coming from his mouth.

“I love you, `Soka~”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

[closetedbumblebee]

White Wedding (Addison Montgomery x Female Reader)

Weddings are supposed to be full of love, happiness and gratitude. A wonderful celebration of two souls coming together as one. Today was one of those days. Callie and Arizona were finally and officially tying the knot.

It was supposed to be a happy celebration all round; all the happy couples loved up, attending the wedding together. Meredith and Derek, Christina and Teddy, Owen and Amelia, Richard and Catherine, among others showed their support for the sweetest couple who were currently reciting their vows.

You sat alone in the third row from the front, extremely proud of your friends. You were smiling from ear to ear as they each walked down the aisle. You knew their story like the back of your hand, and couldn’t contain the happiness you felt when Callie and Arizona finally came through for the other, especially after the accident. They had come so far.

You felt a pang of sadness, taking a look around the room at all the couples. You wished your girlfriend, Addison was here with you, but she had to fly back to LA after Sofia’s delivery. You barely spent enough time together as it is, both of you living in separate cities, leading separate lives. You did, however have a relatively strong and healthy relationship, taking the time to have long phone calls, FaceTime, and send as many text messages as you could. You tried to sneak weekends away  to LA, also. 

But, things felt strained for the last few months, and you both felt the need to remedy that. 

The last time you and Addison saw each other was during her stay, which was 4 days long. You hadn’t seen each other for five weeks, and you could tell the strain was getting to you. But, you both pushed those feelings down to focus on your friends. After all, you were both doctors.

When you did catch up, you and Addison had a slight argument the night before she was set to jet out of Seattle. You sort of made up, but you hadn’t really spoken since, just the odd text and call here and there.

You reminisced… 

“Honey, I really want to stay longer, but I can’t. I’ve got patients to get back to and-“, Addison said sadly.

“We’ve barely seen each other for weeks on end, and when we do, you suddenly have to rush off again. I get that you have a new life now and I respect that. Of course I do, but where the fuck do we fit in?! When you took the job in LA, we promised we’d make each other a priority regardless of whatever happened. You only fly back to Seattle when Richard needs you. I’m busting my butt every other week, rearranging schedules, going out of my way to see you. Because guess what, Addison? I love you! Clearly you don’t love me enough, otherwise you’d be making some sacrifices” you snapped.

Addison was taken aback. You had never seen her look so sad and upset. You just missed her so much, and wanted to be with her. You instantly felt guilty for snapping because you didn’t mean to go that far and before she could say anything, you jumped in again.

“Shit. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just miss you so much. You know that. I’m so so sorry”, you said, equally sad as you reached for her hand.

“We’ll, I’m not going to say that didn’t hurt, because it did. But I understand. I guess it was deserved. I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I’m gonna do better, I promise”, she said.

You held each other tight, “I love you”, you said in unison.

Addison was about to say something else when - 

Her watch beeped, reminding of her flight and you drove her back to the airport where you shared one last kiss.

It wasn’t the way you wanted to make up, but it was a start.

Upon arriving back in LA, she texted immediately.

‘I’m back. I won’t say back home, because it isn’t home. Never has, never will be. My home is with you. FaceTime with me tomorrow? I love you baby xxxxx’, she texted

“Me too, my love. I most certainly will. I’m so sorry again. I love you too xxxx”, you replied.

Things improved between the two of you over the next four weeks, before she told you she couldn’t attend the wedding…

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really wanted to be there, but I just can’t get away”, she said, evidentially disappointed.

“Oh…okay. It’s fine. I can try and film it for you. It’s not going to be the same without you. I love you”. You were sad, but you didn’t want to push her.

……………..

Drawing you from your thoughts, you noticed the last of the guests arriving before the brides made their voyage down the aisle.

“Excuse me, beautiful, is this seat taken?”, you heard a voice say.

You thought you were dreaming. It couldn’t be. You looked up, to see a familiar, beautiful face smiling sweetly at you.

“Addison?!”, you shrieked

You both started crying as she pulled you up into her arms, holding you tightly.

“Surprise”, she whispered huskily into your ear.

“What are you doing here?! I thought you couldn’t come”, you cried.

“I couldn’t bear being away from you anymore”, she said, smiling through tears.

You kissed her with everything you had, before she pulled back.

“I mean it. I’m miserable in LA. I can’t stand it there. So, I’m coming home - for good”, she said.

You didn’t exactly comprehend what she said at first, but then gasped in delight, wrapping her up in your arms. Looking around, your friends were watching you both, all clearly happy for you.

You and Addison still had a lot to talk about, but right now, you put it to the side when Callie and Arizona appeared….

Everyone cried during the vow exchange, and you and Addison shared sweet, knowing looks, never letting go of each other’s hands.

…………..

At the reception, everyone gathered around Arizona and Callie as they had their first dance as a married couple.

Addison wrapped her arms around you from behind and rested her chin on your shoulder as you watched the happy couple. You hugged her arms, and she reached around to peck you on the lips. You two couldn’t get enough of each other.

When it came time for other couples to join the dance floor, you and Addison wasted no time walking hand in hand to the floor. At this point, everyone was in their own worlds, all content and happy, buzzing from the day’s events, while you and Addison were completely wrapped up in your own little bubble.

“So….”, she said, arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you swayed to Shania Twain’s ‘You’ve Got a Way’.

“So…”, you repeated.

She jumped right into it. 

“I’ve missed you, my love. I really have. You are everything to me. I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise. I shouldn’t have been neglecting us”, she said softly, her eyes not leaving yours.

“Addie, hey… No, please. I’m sorry - I had no right to go off at you. I should’ve been more understanding. You uprooted your life and that’s a huge deal; because you’re a big deal, babe. I thought about what I said to you that night, and it was completely unfair, way out of line, in fact.. I was just projecting my feelings onto you. I was so scared that by you moving would have jeopardised our relationship without thinking about anything else. It was me, I was selfish”, you said, sheepishly.

“In other words, you thought I’d cheat on you. That’s it, isn’t it?”, she asked.

You felt tears in your eyes. Blinking them back, you smiled sadly and nodded.

“Come on now, you know I would never, ever, do that to you”, she said.

“I know. I…know. I just should've been more supportive of you. I know what this opportunity meant to you”, you said, your tone apologetic.

“It’s not all on you, okay. I realised I was working longer hours, and I turned my back on us because I was so overwhelmed with all of it, and avoided you, because I think deep down, I was scared too. I was afraid of hurting you, and was terrified the long distance wouldn't work at first. So, I can see how you must’ve felt that way”, Addison said, gently touching your face.

You looked into her eyes, to see the tears shimmering like white diamonds.

“Baby…”, you said.

“Being away from you, not being able to see you, or hold you, or kiss you, made me realise that you, that what we have, is worth more to me than any job. So I told Naomi I quit, called Richard, and he offered me a new job”, Addison smiled.

“Oh, Addie, that’s great!”, you said gleefully.

“Yes, yes it is. But, the best part is that I am now Grey Sloan’s Chief of Neo-Natal Surgery. I’m officially the boss now, baby. You know what that means. This is going to be so good for us!”, Addie said.

You were crying softly and gently touched her face. You knew what this meant; Addison being in charge of her own specialty, back on home soil meant everything to her. She was determined to fight for her relationship with you, so being the boss meant she could make her own rules and schedule. But, not only that, she deserved that title; worked hard for it her whole life; and you were determined to fight to the ends of the earth for her. 

It hit you then that she was really back.

“You’re home?!”, you asked, almost in shock.

“Mm-hmm. I’m home, baby”, she beamed.

“No more messing around, no more arguments. This is it - you and me. No more turning back. I want to fight for us”, she continued.

“I want to fight for us too”, you said back.

You smiled brightly at each other, feeling more connected and more in love than ever.

She was just about to kiss you when you heard the clinking of champagne glasses, as Callie’s father, Mr Torres called for a toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming to celebrate my beautiful daughter, Calliope and her wonderful new wife, Arizona on their special day today. These two have gone through hell and back to be together. I have never felt prouder of my little girl, than I do today. I look around the room, and see it filled with such love. It’s a really beautiful thing. Real, true love is a once in a lifetime feeling, so if you’ve found it, hold onto it with both hands and never let it go, because it’s one crazy ride. Ladies, I congratulate you both on overcoming your obstacles and finding your way to each other. I love you both so much, my dear daughters. To Callie and Arizona!”, Mr Torres exclaimed, full of pride.

“To Callie and Arizona!”, everyone said.

The newlyweds kissed, before turning their attention to the wedding cake.

You and Addison watched the whole exchange, extremely proud of your friends, grateful to be a part of their special, historic day; however, deep down, you both pictured this day of your own, in your not so distant future.

Addison and you shared a look, and you both just knew. This was the path you wanted to take.

“Forever and always, Addie”, you said, winking at her.

“Forever and always, Y/N”, she repeated, clutching your hand, bringing it to her lips.

[ah-ga-seven]

No More Pain | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Fem!reader 

Synopsis: The lingering wounds of your miscarriage have reopened. Now that you are broken up, an unforseen change in Jaehyun’s life has brought him back to your doorstep. Will he be able to fix you this time? Or will he fail just the same as before?

Genre: Angst, One Shot. 

Warnings: mentions of the reader having a miscarriage, depression, alcohol addiction and heartbreak.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Probably one of the heaviest angsts I’ve written. I know the subject is rough but the idea came from a dream so I just had to write it down.

This was a different kind of pang to your heart.

You’ve had your fair share of tragedies, heartbreaks and disappointments, but this…

This feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before and quite frankly, you wouldn’t wish this upon your greatest enemy.  

It was a Thursday night, one like many where you decided to stay in and recharge from a busy day at your demanding job.

You were seated on your couch with a hot cup of tea as you mindlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed. Completely wrapped in the warmth of your favorite fleece blanket. But even the thick fluffy material couldn’t protect you from the cold shivers that ran down your spine.

You blankly stare at the post your best friend forwarded to you via dm and stiffened.  

Memories of the night you miscarried 4 months into your pregnancy flood back to you as you stare at his comment.

You remembered how broken he looked when the doctor couldn’t find the baby's heartbeat anymore.  

You remembered how he held you as you cried in his arms, promising that he’d love you just the same as he tried to console you to his best ability while suffering himself.

You remembered the pain and the relief of having Jaehyun by your side through it all. Glad that even though your life was about to change forever, he’d be the one constant thing you could rely on.

You remembered all of these moments like they happened yesterday, wishing future you could mentally prepare past you for what was going to be the hardest time in your life.  

The man who swore never to leave you did just that, and not even 6 months into his new relationship, your biggest insecurity was made into a reality.  

He had moved on for good, and even though you have no ill feelings towards him, you can’t help but feel anger over sadness right now.  

It was that easy to replace you. And that easy for him to find someone that could give him what you couldn’t.

Even though your miscarriage wasn’t the direct cause of why he left, the effects of the incidence on your mental health dragged him down with you. So both of you felt it’d be better to part ways for the sake of not wanting to hate or resent each other in the end.  

But God…you hated and resented him now more than ever.  

It didn’t matter to you that both of you started to date new people, because a part of you always held on to the fact that you’d somehow find your way back to each other, though the probability of that ever happening again turned to ash.

Your miscarriage broke you.  

No appetite for weeks, no motivation to get yourself out of bed and no cure for the monsters in your head who told you that Jaehyun was only sticking around out of pity for your broken state.

That same insecurity is what drove him into the arms of the women he told you not to worry about, and now they’re having a fucking child together.  

Knowing that that should’ve been you was a thought that was just too much to bear right now. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, tears prickling your eyes as you rub the spot on your belly where the mini bump used to be 8 months ago.

You were finally doing better, thriving in your job and social life. Meeting new people and dating a few loose ends here and there, but you can already feel yourself spiraling back into old depressional habits as you stare at the picture once more.  

You pettily decide to like it, hoping it would spark interest from none other than your ex, and much to your surprise, it did.

Not even 20 minutes later your phone started to buzz on the counter as you poured yourself a glass of wine. You mindlessly retrieve it, expecting it to be your best friend but when you see his name as you take a sip you almost choke.

Is he serious?

You try to come up with what to say for the next 3 to 5 minutes but nothing in your head seems to translate your exact feelings to your fingertips.

You sigh in agony while leaning over on your kitchen counter with your phone still in your hands, reading his messages over and over again. You subconsciously start to bite your lip in deep thought, getting startled by your ringtone as your phone starts to ring in your grasp.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, taking a big chug of the alcoholic beverage in front of you, putting on the bravest face and straightest posture to make yourself feel better before accepting the call.  

You knew you didn’t have to answer, but you were dying to hear what he had to say under these circumstances.  

“Y/N? Is that you?” His voice was unchanged. You didn’t know why, but you expected him to sound different, be different. Yet the same worry he’s always had for you was evident in his tone this time as well.

You clear your throat to avoid a voice crack and sigh. “Congratulations,” you tried to sound as genuine as you could, but you knew you sounded like shit.  

You start to play with the ends of your hair out of anxious anticipation, waiting for him to respond on the other end of the line.  

“I meant to tell you,” he starts. “I just…I didn’t know how and Chaeyoung suddenly uploaded the picture and-”

“Jae…please spare me the details,” you interrupt him. Saying his name like you used to felt like speaking a foreign language. He stayed quiet upon hearing your voice again and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you still live in the same apartment in Itaewon?” he suddenly asks, immediately alerting you to stand up straight because he could only be asking for one reason and one reason only.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, I’m on my way.”

Just like that, he hung up and just like that your heart rate starts to race uncontrollably.  

You down the remnants of your wine glass and hope he’s isn’t too close because your place looked far from neat. For the next 15 minutes, you run around, shoving things into random cabinets. Whether those items belonged there or not was the least of your concern and just as you fluff the last pillow on your couch, your doorbell rings.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you walk up to your front door, taking it off the lock before you open it with a dramatic swing.

There he was. Jung Jaehyun.

As beautiful and put together as he always looked, no matter the circumstance. You forget how to breathe when you lay eyes on him and gulp. It’s actually him.

His big dark orbs widened as he laid eyes on you after months of not seeing you. His facial expression softened, slowly parting his lips to speak but you beat him to it when you broke out of your trance.  

“What are you doing here?” your shoulders fall as you look into his eyes for answers. The same eyes that once looked at you with so much love and adoration, but right now his pupils were stressfully darting back and forth, trying to read you like he used to be able to but he had no idea what you were feeling right now.

“Because I feel like shit y/n. Please let me in and let me explain,” he pleaded with a defeated tone.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “What is there to explain? You knocked up your girlfriend and finally got what you wanted. Why bother coming here? To rub it into my face?”  

Your plan of staying calm and collected went completely out the window just now and you could tell by the shock on his face that he did not expect you to be angry with him.

He took a step forward, backing you into your own hallway. His height towered over you when you stepped back and without looking back he closed the door behind him.

“Y/n. I would never purposely do that to you. Ever.” You ignore his statement, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t remember inviting you in Jaehyun. Does she even know you’re here?”

You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to counter your attack, but he simply shook his head. Knowing damn well that you’re acting tough just so you won’t get emotional.  

As he’s scanning the premises, his eyes linger on the red wine bottle on your kitchen counter and with a look of utter disbelief, he averts his attention back on you.

“You’re drinking again?” he asks with an almost condescending tone.  

“Did you come here to practice your parenting skills because no thanks Jae, please leave,” you bite back as coldly as you could, but he wasn’t having it.

“That shit almost killed you and you’re just casually drinking again?” He runs his hand through his locks out of pure frustration, not knowing what to do with the misplaced feeling of still caring for you just the same, while also knowing he has no business to tell you how to live your life.

The truth is, Jaehyun had no idea what he was doing here. Everything about the situation felt wrong and he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Ever since Chaeyoung told him she was pregnant; he couldn’t be fully happy about it. He couldn’t commit to fatherhood knowing how much it broke your relationship. How much it broke the women he loved most to this day.

“A little red wine didn’t hurt anyone,” you mumble under your breath and that comment alone send Jaehyun’s emotions into overdrive, unable to hide his disappointment and worry for you any longer.

“IT HURT YOU Y/N. DAMN IT!” He raised his voice at you as he roughly grabbed your arm to make you look at him, which is the last thing you expected. He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. Mad at the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most and mad at the fact that this is what your lives had come to.

You might have previously dealt with your pain by drinking, and you might have mindlessly mixed your anti-depressants with your drink once, which…just might have earned you a trip to the hospital, but that was your lowest low and you made sure it’d never happen again.

You beat your demons by yourself when he had already moved on, so he had no place to waltz back into your life when he felt like it, just to judge you.

You’re absolutely fuming by now because of that same reason and much to your dismay you feel new tears well up in your eyes.  

“NO, YOU HURT ME!” you yell back at him as you smack his chest, the salty droplets streaming down your face as you kept hitting his chest to make him feel your pain. “YOU LEFT ME.”

Your knees got weak and you knew you looked absolutely pathetic as you crouched down in front of him. Shock took over his features as he got down on his own knees just as quickly, pulling you into the comfort of his arms. The warmth that you used to call home and the warmth that always seemed to calm you down engulfed you completely, a feeling your favorite fleece blanket from before could hardly imitate.  

He patted your head with assuring strokes, whispering sweet nothings to you as he held you on the floor of your apartment. Letting you sob the pain away in his black shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay…” he kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

You calmed down slowly, ignoring the suffocating ache in your head and heart while he made you feel safe and sound like he always did. You sat there like that for God knows how long, letting your minds go into overdrive as silence comforted the both of you.  

Ironically enough, this scenery was the exact same as the one in the hospital 8 months ago. You cried in his arms just like this when you had lost your child, but now you were crying because you had lost him. For good now.  

“I would never purposely plan to have a baby this quickly y/n, you have to believe me. Chae was on birth control but it just…happened,” he whispers, finally breaking the agonizing silence.

You stay quiet, closing your eyes to the sound of his low voice, letting his words register. “I was going to tell you. I was planning to ask you out for a coffee but as soon as she passed her first trimester, she was just so excited and made the announcement…it was just bad timing.”

“All of this is bad timing,” you mumble, which made him nod in agreement. He sighed into your hair as he continued to explain. “Y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for you anymore. I wish things were different, but they simply aren’t and I’m sorry.”

You sniff, dabbing your tears and your nose with the sleeves of your blouse before looking up at him through your lashes.

“You don’t have to apologize for moving on and being happy Jaehyun. It’s all I ever wanted for you.” You wipe the single tear that remained on the corner of his eye, not having realized that he shed a few tears himself too.

He leaned into your touch as he looked into your eyes before closing them, leaning his forehead onto yours while taking a deep breath.  

“I just want you to be ok.” He says suppressing a sob. “I can’t live this picture-perfect life knowing that you’re in pain y/n. It makes no sense; you deserve so much more it’s not fair.”  

Your lip starts to quiver as his words hit you, and you build up the courage to look at him again.  

He stared at you longingly and lovingly for the first time since forever and you knew a mistake was about to be made when he inched his face closer to you, but it was too late.

His lips made contact with yours and you completely gave in. Letting him lead you into a slow yet passionate kiss that took both of your breaths away.  Before things could get more heated, you realize what was happening and froze.

You take a hold of his wrists as you pull away, your eyes staring into his equally electrified ones as you recompose yourselves.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started. “I should’ve never confused you like that. Fuck. What the fuck am I doing.” He covers his mouth as he got up. Frustrated with his own behavior, he digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands to suppress the urge to swing at your door or any other object in sight for that matter.

You get up just as quickly as well. Straightening out your clothes before shaking off the nerves of what just happened.  

You take a deep breath followed by a shaky exhale as you opened your front door, turning around on your heels to look at an equally distressed Jaehyun.

He was about to speak; about to confess that he still loved you, but you stopped him by raising your hand, motioning for him to keep whatever he was about to say to himself.

Your eyes find his own and you take one last glance at the man that was supposed to be the pillar to your family. The man you used to call yours, and the man that you had hoped to still have a future with, despite everything.  

But you knew better.

You knew what was right and you knew what you had to do before things would start to spiral out of control again.

You stepped aside so he could pass by you, trying to avoid eye contact all while you could still feel his burning stare lingering on your fragile state.

You swallow harshly, licking your lips before you spoke as clearly and steadily as you could.

“For the sake of your family, please leave Jae…and never come back.”  

[devilyn]

i told you i’ll catch you if you fall | tsukishima kei

— alexa, play: like strangers do by aj mitchell.

If you saw me on the train would you look the other way?

Like strangers do

And if you passed me on the street

Would you look down at your feet

And move on through?

Like strangers do

— synopsis: you thought tsukishima fell out of love, and he thought so too, but maybe that wasn’t exactly it.

— genre: angst lol, happy endings

— word count: 2.3k

Falling out of love is a strange thing. Tsukishima’s life was always busy, but there was always someone he could look forward to returning home to. You’d welcome him home with a bright smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek. Some nights, he’d pull you into his arms and fall asleep with his head against your chest. Others, he’d let you cuddle into his side and run his fingers through your hair as your warm breath fanned against his neck. No matter what, he was always happy just to see you.

At some point, he stopped looking forward to those things. Kisses became a chore, and he became used to sleeping with his back towards you. Dinners together were usually quiet, but now they were silent. Yet he couldn’t even find it within him to break up with you.

So you broke up with him.

“You should’ve just told me,” you told him with a teary smile. His heart squeezed in his chest at the way your voice cracked. “That you fell out of love with me.”

And he was silent. He didn’t chase after you even after you finished packing an overnight bag and left your shared apartment.

Falling out of love is a strange thing. Because Tsukishima wasn’t sure if he ever really fell out of love, or if he just should’ve tried harder to love you. 

Now, he spent his rare free time sitting at the cafe the two of you used to frequent because it was close to your shared apartment. He’d order two drinks. One was his usual order. The other was yours. 

He’d set your usual order across from him and gaze out the window. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend like he wasn’t sitting alone. And sometimes, when he looked over, he’d delude himself into thinking you were smiling that smile you give him that says--”I really, really love you.”

And then he’d blink, and you’d be gone.

Other times, he’d stand outside your lecture hall just to catch a glimpse of you through the tiny window in the door. He always felt like such a creep when he did that, but when his eyes trailed over your concentrated expression, his heart would skip a beat in his chest, and he’d ask himself why he ever let you leave.

Once, he gathered up the courage to send you a text, and he felt like crying for the first time when he realized you had blocked his number.

Little by little, your things were disappearing from what used to be your shared apartment. You were clever. You only stopped by when you knew he was at practice or in class so he wouldn’t ever run into you. The polaroids of the two of you that you forced him to take with you were still hanging against the bedroom wall, but the photos of you and your friends left empty spaces in the carefully planned photo grid.

Your little belongings were gone. Your skincare disappeared from the bathroom sink, and your clothes that took up half of the closet were almost completely gone. Planners, notebooks, pens, highlighters, things he had never looked at before--they were all a part of you, but they were leaving him as well.

Soon, he started to recognize the symptoms of heartbreak. His eyes began to follow you whenever he spotted your familiar figure on campus. He’d notice the small changes--you looked more tired, like you hadn’t gotten any sleep. Your usual sunny smile whenever you saw him would be replaced with a hurt expression whenever you caught his eye, and you’d hurriedly look away.

Tsukishima started to fall asleep in class. He’d never done that before, but he hadn’t been able to sleep at all, recently. Because at night, he’d lay awake and stare at the ceiling while his hand continuously came down on the space where you used to lay next to him. He started messing up at practice, to the point where his coach had to pull him aside and reprimand him to rest properly. But he couldn’t. He doesn’t think he’s slept properly since you left.

He thought he had fallen out of love with you. So why was it that he could no longer function properly without you?

“You want me to call her?” Yamaguchi asked one night while he was visiting to check in on his heartbroken best friend.

Tsukishima was silent. He’s not sure if he would feel hurt or relieved if you responded to his best friend’s calls but not his.

“...can you?” he finally asked. At this point, he had kicked his pride to the curb. He sat with his head in his hands at the dining table, his best friend standing in the doorway with a worried look in his eyes.

Yamaguchi didn’t hesitate to pull up your contact and call it before putting it on speaker. It rang once. Then twice. Three times. Then four.

And then it stopped, and the two men heard shuffling on the other side of the line.

“...Tadashi, is this about Kei?”

Tsukishima felt like he was going to collapse, even though he was already sitting. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but he sure felt like crying now.

Your voice sounded like home. A wave of relief washed over him, even though your voice wasn’t even directed towards him. Yamaguchi’s gaze flickered between his phone and his friend who had now buried his face into his arms.

“It is,” he answered hesitantly, “but I also wanted to check up on you. How’re you feeling?”

You were quiet for a second before responding. 

“You won’t tell him if I tell you, right?”

“Nope.”

Tsukishima was surprised at how easily Yamaguchi could lie. He finally lifted his head up as the brunette took a seat next to him so he could hear your voice better.

“...in all honesty, I’ve been feeling terrible,” you laughed weakly, and Tsukishima felt like his heart was going to fail him at how much the sound hurt him. He did that to you.

“You need to take care of yourself too,” Yamaguchi responded worriedly, now concerned for both of his friends.

“Maybe,” you hummed softly. “But I’ll be alright, just check up on Kei for me, alright? He looked a little tired when I saw him on campus today.”

He almost cursed out loud. How could you still be worried about him after everything? Without knowing, Tsukishima’s hand raised to grasp at his chest, as if doing so would ease his heartache.

“Why don’t you check up on him yourself? I’m sure Tsukki would appreciate that,” Yamaguchi advised as he glanced at his friend with furrowed brows.

“Ah,” you sighed softly. “Uhm, I think...he wouldn’t want his ex to check up on him. Especially since he fell out of love with me in the first place.”

“You broke up with him, Y/N--”

“Only because he was dragging the relationship on for my sake,” you cut Yamaguchi off quickly, and the two men lifted their heads at your sharp tone. “Did he not tell you, Tadashi? About how he treated me like I was literally air in the last month of our relationship? I was invisible to him! He didn’t tell you he fell out of love?”

Tsukishima couldn’t really remember the rest of the phone call. All he remembered was how you cried despite how much Yamaguchi tried to comfort you, and all he could think was ‘I did that’. He repeated the three words like a mantra each time he remembered the way you sobbed about how much it hurt to physically watch him fall out of love with you--to watch him stop caring about you and your relationship.

“You know what’s worse, Tadashi?” you croaked out between cries. “I still love him.”

Tsukishima doesn’t remember when Yamaguchi left. Just that he did, after murmuring that the two of you should talk to sort everything out.

The blonde middle blocker laid awake that night, staring at his ceiling and smoothing his hand over the sheets where you used to be. He hurt you, and now you were hurting even more than he was. He considered himself fortunate, because at least he knew you still loved him with all of your heart, even if you went out of your way to avoid him.

But you didn’t know that. You were living with the lie that he had stopped loving you a month ago, and he needed to fix that. He needed you to know he couldn’t live without you.

So as the sun slowly began to peek through his curtains, Tsukishima sat up and resolved that he was going to talk to you today, whether you liked it or not.

Which is why he was now standing outside your lecture hall, gazing as your exhausted eyes flicked from your screen to your professor as you tried to diligently take notes. Even now, he couldn’t help but think you were beautiful.

He snapped back into reality when a student obstructed his field of vision to exit the crowded lecture hall. Using his height to his advantage, he peered over the line of tired university students to watch you pack up your bag and join the patient line waiting to leave.

The moment your eyes locked with his, your shoulders slumped, as if you had expected this to happen eventually. Instead of filing out of the building like everyone else, you exited the crowd and stepped in front of him. And he inhaled your familiar scent for the first time in what felt like years, but was only really a few weeks.

“Were you waiting for me?” you asked quietly with a weak smile.

The question was a familiar one. So he smiled sadly back, reaching forward to gently cup your cheeks.

“...yeah. Thought we could talk at our cafe.”

“Our cafe? I thought only I used to call it that.” you teased lightly, and Tsukishima felt himself relax at your familiar, lighthearted tone.

“I got into the habit of calling it that too,” he murmured as he held his hand out to you. “After you left.”

Your playful smile faded as you slipped your hand into his. His fingers laced easily with yours, and he brought your hands to his lips so he could press a soft kiss to your knuckles. Your brows furrowed immediately as he savored the feeling of your hand in his and his lips against your skin.

“Kei--”

“Let’s go,” he cut you off purposefully, and you stared up at him before sighing and nodding.

Admittedly, he realized he didn’t have much of a plan as he sat down and placed your usual order in front of you. His long fingers wrapped around the warm cup and slowly brought it up to his lips.

“You really shouldn’t give me false hope like this,” you spoke quietly, gaze focused on the people passing by outside the window. As if you couldn’t even look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he started, and your eyes quickly turned back to him. You were surprised. “I’m sorry--I should’ve told you that I never really fell out of love.”

“Kei,” you furrowed your brows and tilted your head. Frustration. He recognized your habits. “If you were still in love with me, you sure didn’t act like it.”

“That’s why I’m sorry,” he cringed slightly. His pride was surely injured, but it was faring better than his heart. “I thought I fell out of love. I really did. But then you left, and I realized...it was never you.”

His hand reached across the table to take yours into his again. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and he watched the way your expression softened at the simple gesture.

“I was tired, and took it out on you. I didn’t know how to balance everything, and I thought that if I cut you out of the equation, it’d solve everything,” he admitted quietly. “But turns out, you were a necessary variable to make the equation work.”

“Are you really equating me to a math equation, Kei?” you asked exasperatedly, and he chuckled. “Right now, of all times?”

“Maybe,” he mused.

“You’re the worst,” you retaliated quickly with narrowed eyes, and he smiled--a genuine one. Probably the first one in months.

“And you love me,” he responded. He watched you hesitate before nodding slowly.

“...I do. But it doesn’t make our relationship any easier,” your gaze turned down to his thumb, still brushing slowly over your knuckles. “You can’t just ignore me whenever things get hard. You have to tell me what you’re thinking--I can’t read minds, Kei.”

“If I promise, will you move back in tonight?” he paused before continuing, “...I can’t sleep without you.”

Your expression morphed into one of pure love, and your free hand reached across the table to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb slid under his lenses to brush over the dark bags under his eyes, and he leaned into your touch.

“...sure. If you promise.”

“Then I promise,” he answered quickly, and you laughed. He watched you with awe, taking in the way the corner of your eyes crinkled as you giggled and how your eyes shimmered with stars he couldn’t find anywhere else.

He didn't care if you were in public anymore--he could no longer resist.

He leaned across the table and kissed you softly, pouring every ounce of his love into your lips. You melted against him, and reciprocated by doing the same.

When he pulled back, you were smiling, and he was sure he’s never seen anything so beautiful in his life before.

“...I love you,” he whispered. “Sorry it took so long.”

“I love you too,” you responded with those familiar stars shimmering in your eyes. 

He knew then, that he’d spend every day proving his love for you. And he’d never stop trying.

[softforloki]

The Lovers II

Summery: After you read for him, Loki finds himself yearning for you. He works up the courage to share his feelings with you, but you just might beat him to the punch.

Warnings: Swearing, Tarot cards. If you’re uncomfortable with that then please do not read

Word Count: 823

Part 1 Here!

Masterlist

Loki had been asked (demanded, more accurately) by the other Avengers to stop lurking so much. The first few weeks of life in the tower had been spent in amusement as he startled his new teammates with his sudden, silent presence. He had made a valiant effort to kick the habit, truly, but he fell right back to his old ways when it came to you.

In his defense, he’d nearly walked in on you doing a reading. You hated being disturbed mid-reading; it broke your concentration and made it much more difficult for you to draw an accurate message from the cards. He couldn’t just barge in, it’d be disrespectful. Not to mention, the spread you were doing looked complicated, and involved several cards.

You were reading for yourself, as you often did. Your brow was furrowed in concentration as you slowly flipped each card over, lips forming silent words as you pieced the meanings together. Once or twice your worry lines deepened as you’d tsk in disappointment at a less-then-favorable card. 

Loki was lurking. He couldn’t help it. He’d rather die than disturb your work, but he just couldn’t leave. How could he, when you were so irresistible to watch?

Eventually, you shoved yourself away from the table with a heavy sigh. You rubbed a hand over your eyes in frustration, when you finally noticed him. “Oh, Loki. How long’ve you been there?”

“Not terribly long. I didn’t want to interrupt you.” He replied, slipping into the room.

“How considerate, thanks for that.” You pulled out the chair next to you for Loki to sit in. “Tony and Thor have barged in on me more than once. I’ve had to re-do whole readings just because they’ve distracted me.”

“They’re both quite foolish,” Loki remarked as he took his seat, not bothering to smother his smile at the way you snorted.

“I mean you’re not wrong.” You agreed, turning back to your spread, the irritated look returning.

Loki looked over the laid out cards. He was becoming somewhat familiar with your deck, having sat quietly in on many readings. There were several cups and wands. The Magician, The Wheel of Fortune, and his old friend, The Lovers were also apparent. 

“How are things looking?” He asked, indicating the spread.

“Foggy. There’s a lot of emotions and action here, so I should do something about how I’m feeling. I’m not entirely clear what exactly I’m acting on, though- wait.”

You pressed a finger to a card, the Two of Cups, lips pursed. Loki waited as you organized your thoughts. He watched your finger twitch, and your eyes widen. “Ah, shit.”

“Got it?”

“Got it.”

“What does that one mean, with the two cups?” He asked, carefully watching you for a reaction.

You gave him a side look as you quickly gathered your cards, as though you were afraid that Loki would suss out their meaning if they laid out even a second longer. “It gave me the clarity on what feelings I need to act on.”

Both of Loki’s brows raised above his hairline as you carefully slid your deck back into its box, expertly avoiding his gaze. He cleared his throat. Cleared it again.

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” You deadpanned, scowling at Loki.

“Never.” He admitted with a wolfish grin.

You heaved another sigh, eyes flitting over his features. “Oh screw it.”

You suddenly shoved your own chair closer to Loki’s, gently cupping his face. You hesitated, giving him a chance to pull away if he wanted to. Rather than pull away, all he could do was raise a shaking hand to the back of your neck to guide your lips to his own.

You both parted with reluctance, but didn’t pull away. “It seems as though we’ve come to the same conclusion, haven’t we, my Queen of Cups?”

You were quiet for a moment, processing his words. “That was me? Oh I should’ve realized!”

Loki laughed, capturing your lips again. “Of course it’s you, my sweet. Who else has cared for me and healed me as you have?”

“I was kind of hoping it was me,” You muttered, tugging gently on one of Loki’s dark locks. “I try to keep personal feelings out of my readings for other people, though.”

“So you dismissed the idea entirely,” He guessed, kissing you fervently in between words. “you sweet, lovely thing. Do you have any conceivable idea what you do to me?”

“I think I’m starting to get the picture,” You teased, knotting your fingers though his hair as you kissed him back with all the passion and pent-up emotions you could manage.

Loki matched your enthusiasm, kissing every longing thought, every dream, and every promise into you. He breathed you in as though you were oxygen, and he needed you to live. He held you like you were the most precious treasure in the universe.

And you were.

[junisfics]

Heavy Petting ft. Armin Arlert (Day V)

Focus: Heavy Petting

Warnings: Sexual Contact / Nsfw 18+

Word Count: 2k

They’ve been gone for three days, they should’ve been back within a few hours. Where the hell are they?

Armin left with the others days ago to go on a supply run. Days. This trip should have taken them only a few hours to get done. They’re on horseback, they should’ve been back ages ago.

“Stop sulking around waiting for them to get back, they most likely came across a live town and are trying to trade or something...” Eren explains.

He can’t blame me, how am I supposed to sit around doing nothing while Armin- they’re out there practically begging to be eaten alive. 

I pace Mikasa and I’s shared room in the cottage, Eren sitting on her bed as I walk from door to window and back again.

“You need to drink or something, you’re livid.” He says.

“You need to stop acting like youre completely unbothered. I know it pisses you off just sitting here, you hate being excluded from helping.” I spit back.

“You’re just acting like a bitch because you don’t have an eye on Armin for once,” He stands up, “You’re obsessive.”

“I-I am not! I- at least I care! You let Mikasa be a suicidal hero for you and you sit around doing nothing in return!” I shout at him

“She’s just chopping wood, you need to relax.” He groans

“She was just thrown around, she needs to rest!”

“They’re back.” He mutters.

“Shut up you bastard- wait what?” 

He stares blankly at the window before turning and making his way down the hall and downstairs. I’m on his heels, practically shoving him down the stairs before pushing past him. I hastily push open the door too see them getting off their horses and stabling them.

“Armin... Armin!” I cry out. I see his blond hair whip around as he turns to face me. He’s tying his horse back up into her stable.

“y/n! Sorry, we ended up getting turned around, it took a little longer than ex- oh.”

His sentence is cutoff as I run up to him and practically throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, his own make their way around my torso and I hold myself flush against him.

“We were only gone a few days, are you alright?” He asks, speaking into my hair.

I let go of him and take a few steps back to look at him. His hair is coated in sweat and dirt that sticks to his forehead. It’s obvious they came in contact with a few titans, the give away being the cuts and bruises that litter his hands and face along with few rips in his clothes.

“Yeah, sorry. Are you?” My hands prod at him, inspecting any possible injuries I missed before. I take his hands in mine, examining the surface cuts. Then, I take his face in my hands and shifting it slightly to look over it. My eyes get caught at a thin gash below his left eye.

It was supposed to be just a little supply run, to get food and medical supplies, that’s it.

“Ah-” He grimaces, jerking back at my touch. I let go of him.

“Go wash up then meet me in the kitchen. I need to clean it.” I gesture my head to the house

He disappears off to the backyard where the water spout is and I make my way back inside, a little to quickly for that.

He’s alive. He’s alive. Relax, y/n.

I through the kitchen cabinets for my medical box. I’m pulling things and shoving things around when I realize I had leant it to Jean.

“Jean!” I shout

“Jesus, y/n, I’m right here, what do you want?” He sets down what I assume to be a sack of potatoes onto the counter.

“Where’s my med bag?” I ask.

“I put it in your room, under your bed. I didn’t know where else it’d go.”

It’s right where he says it was. I take it apart and pull out alcohol, gauze, needles and sutures. I lay it out accordingly onto the bedside table. Staring at it, shifting each tool an embarrassing amount of times.

Relax, he’s fine. He’s here.

“y/n?” Armin says, rounding the door frame. 

His once dirt soaked hair is now clean and wet, messily hanging into his face. His shirt clings to his still damp skin. In the absence of the dirt I can now see bruises littered across his jaw and cheekbones. His forearms are all scratched up as well.

I pat beside me on the bed gently. He closes the door quietly and takes a seat beside me. I pour a bit of alcohol onto a gauze pad and hold him by his chin to keep him still. He winces when contact is met.

“Sorry, sorry” I mumble, wiping and patting at the gash below his eye.

When It’s as clean as I think it can get I reach for the sutures and tweezers, pushing it through the damaged skin as gently as I possibly can, “I’m sorry, I know”

I can feel his eyes boring into mine and I grow obviously uncomfortable as I try and complete my work.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks suddenly. His voice quiet, nervous.

I look down to his lips, a slit in the bottom one, then into his eyes. Slowly and sheepishly, I nod, letting my tools drop to the floor.

His lips meet mine, cold but soft. He takes my face in his hands and my own drop from his and reach around his neck to toy with his still damp hair. 

My heart lurches out of my chest, his fingers gently tracing the skin of my cheekbones. His touch is overwhelming and I feel my own skin growing hot. I grab at the front of his shirt, twisting it into my fist to pull him closer. 

I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about kissing Armin, actually, you’d have to be stupid to think I haven’t. 

“I- closer, come closer... please.” Armin mumbles quietly, his hands pulling at my waist.

I hesitate, but only momentarily, then make my way closer, shifting inch by inch before something inside him snaps and he pulls me atop him. Our lips detach and my forehead rests against his, my legs straddling his waist but he remains upright, his back up against the wall.

“Armin..” I’m out of breath, my chest noticeably raising up and down with every pant.

“Fuck, just kiss me.” He pleads and I do. I tilt my head down so my mouth meets his again, this time with more passion.

His hands skim up and down my sides and back, touching almost any place he can without overstepping his boundaries. He needs more, I can feel it. It’s almost too much to handle, my body and senses completely flooded by him. He’s everywhere all at once.

I shift slightly to be flush against him my hands still around his neck, pulling him closer. His grip drops to my hips and squeezes them harshly before taking in a sharp inhale. Before I can kiss him again he tilts his head slightly so our noses bump together.

“You- God- you can’t do that... please.” This time he’s the one out of breath, overwhelmed and his skin hot.

My eyes closed and lips still searching for his as he pleads.

“You don’t- God, y/n, stop fucking moving.” He hisses, sitting up even more so to where his nose is in line with my jaw.

Hearing him swear is a rare occasion, let alone multiple times. It’s captivating, the sexuality of his frustration is so incredibly attractive.

His breath is hot on my neck, I can feel his lips tracing gently before kissing the tender flesh. My eyes flutter shut and my mouth drops open, a shiver goes down my spine and to my center.

Oh. 

Tiny whimpers leave my lips and I feel his tongue lick up my jugular.

“Armin,” I breathe.

“I don’t want anything from you, just this... please.” His voice has dropped a few octaves.

It’s so much, but so not enough. I feel stupid, completely dumbed by him. My head is clouded and all I can even think about is him, his lips and his touch. His fingers are gentle as they slip under the hem of my shirt to tickle the skin there. Another pathetic sound escapes my mouth.

His hips shift and a wave of pleasure ripples through me. 

“Armin, I-I can feel you.” I giggle quietly and he pinches the supple skin of my hips.

“Shit, I’m sorry- God” He groans into the skin below my jaw and ear, “It’s just- you’re just perfect.”

He sucks gently on my skin, marking the surface with little nips and bites every so often. The warm and wet gliding of his tongue along my skin has me shaking in his lap and every move I make I can feel him beneath me.

My hands rake down his chest and stomach then up under his shirt. The muscles of his stomach tense beneath my fingers. I never expected Armin to be so muscular, yes he’s rather lean but my fingers can feel the obvious divots between his abs. 

As my hands feel over his hot skin, his chest begins to rise and fall at a more rapid pace. His once innocent hands begin to sheepishly travel towards my backside. I try to encourage him by arching my back ever so slightly... and I wouldn’t say that hurt our situation but it definitely didn’t... help.

A groan rumbles deep in his chest as I do so and his grip on my lower back releases so he can grab my face and pull me away from him. My hands rest on the bare skin of his chest as he looks into my eyes and holds my jaw between his hands.

“You drive me insane.” He says under his breath, more to himself than to me.

His thumb follows the dips and mounds of my lips before finding resting tenderly against the center of my bottom lip. He uses his thumb to pull it down before letting it flick back up.

I try to lean forward to catch his lips in mine but he holds me still. A tiny smile upturns the corners of his lips as I try again with no prevail, only bumping the tips of our noses together once more. My mouth hangs open faintly, begging him to kiss me again.

I dig my nails into his bare chest, scratching gently.

“Ah-shit” He hisses, his eyes fluttering closed and head resting back against the wall.

“Kiss me, please.” I whisper, “Please.”

He blushes, pulling his head off the wall and looking into my eyes. I will never be able to get over how absolutely beautiful he is. The cool depths of his blue eyes are captivating; the gentle rises and falls of the bone structure in his face, the flexing of his muscles with every movement is so incredibly alluring.

He taunts me, leaning in then leaning out once I do the same. His pretty teeth showing with every smile.

I open my mouth and poke out my tongue, taking it and reaching to lick at his open lips. He twitches beneath me and I snicker quietly.

“Hey y/n! Have you seen Armin, Eren wants- oh!” Sasha pushes open the door and I scramble off of him, stumbling to the floor and taking a seat there. 

“Eren! I found him!” She calls to downstairs, then returns to us, “I knew it!”

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[freddie-weaselbee]

Grade A Business//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief semi-nudity, slight language, two suggestive comments, y/n drools on fred but like in a cute way

Summary: As one businessman makes a trip across the ocean to talk to new investors, he meets his new partner, someone a lot more familiar than he was expecting. 

Prompts: Only One Bed with dialogue prompts “if we get caught, I’m blaming you” and “I don't want to be alone”

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Day 2 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

  Fred had never gotten used to traveling on Muggle airplanes. He never had a need to before, not with everything being a train ride, floo network, or apparition away. But as he and George progressed into adulthood, and the businessman life no less, they found themselves constantly on the move and needing a fast and easy way to travel without drawing suspicion. Except for the one time that Fred’s magical briefcase set off every airport security system imaginable, but he’d learned from that mistake. 

He was relieved to be exiting the JFK airport in New York City, clutching his luggage and thanking Merlin that his feet could now touch solid ground. Being in one of those huge steel contraptions was nothing like flying in a broom. He had no control over anything and it drove him absolutely insane. Luckily, he was safe now, and one step closer to being done with this awful business trip. 

At the beginning of their business endeavors, Fred and George would travel together, trying to pick up business at other locations for Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes. But as the shop grew and the locations became more and more foreign (so far having shops in Paris, Cairo, and Madrid) the brothers realized that the operations would have to be solo missions to allow for the other to run the shop for longer periods of time. Usually Fred didn’t mind taking the trips by himself. In fact, he rather enjoyed the alone time and flexibility in schedule. But this meeting was supposed to be a big one, and he was feeling quite nervous about having to tackle it himself. 

Big investors located in the states were meeting with him to discuss opening a joint operation in New York City, combining his shop with another renowned wizard business that they deemed would be most profitable. Fred groaned internally just thinking about it. He didn’t want to have to share this new shop with anyone, no matter what the new investors thought. What if the other co-owner was a horrible person? Or worse, what if they had no sense of humor? They’d ruin the Weasley reputation and make it some boring book store. Or puzzle shop? Honestly Fred didn’t know much about the other business, just that he already didn’t like it. 

Hailing a cab, a trick his sister-in-law Hermione had shown him years ago, Fred lugged all of his prototypes--skillfully hidden from Muggle eyes and detection systems by layers of spells--into the trunk before hopping in, giving the address of the hotel the investors had booked for him. He was about to shut the door when a panting scream startled him enough to make him stop. 

“Wait! Hold the cab!”

Doing as he was told, Fred kept the door open and allowed the stranger to climb in, suitcase and all. 

“Thanks,” you said, Fred noting your distinct British accent and strikingly familiar features. “I really need to get to my hotel, I appreciate it--”

“Y/N?”

Shocked, you finally looked at your ride partner’s face for the first time. Soft brown eyes. Freckled face. Bright ginger hair. 

“Fred?! Fred Weasley?” You knew for a fact you weren’t mistaken, this was definitely the Fred you remembered. Or maybe it could have been George? It had been so long since you had seen either of them. Since Hogwarts, in fact. 

Luckily, Fred nodded, confirming your belief that this was the older Weasley twin and saving yourself from heaps of embarrassment. “Y/N L/N, what are you doing here?”

Fred and you both wore matching grins, stretching from ear to ear. What an insane coincidence. What were the chances that you two would be in the same cab, in the same city, in the same foreign country?

“I’m actually here for business,” you said. “After Hogwarts I opened my own shop--”

“Excuse me,” the cab driver interrupted, wasting no time with politeness nor formalities. “But I have cars lined up behind me and I don’t know where you wanna go little lady. So let’s get on with it, if you will.”

“Oh, yeah of course. It’s, umm, oh shit which hotel was it? It’s on 53rd and 10th, I know that…” You trailed off, trying to remember what your hotel was called. You dug around in your purse, hoping to find a piece of paper with the name on it. “I think it was called--”

“Lotus Hotel.”

It was Fred who had interrupted you, once again, and once again you were just as bewildered as before.

“That’s right,” you said after a few seconds of confused silence. “Yes, yes the Lotus Hotel please,” you told the driver with confidence. Turning back to Fred you tried in earnest to understand what was happening. 

“So same location?” the driver asked, to which Fred confirmed before you were speeding off down the crowded streets of the city. 

“Oh, I get it,” you said in understanding. “Same hotel as me?”

“That is correct, love. What are the odds?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a half suggestive half just plain goofy manner, awkwardly shuffling so that his long legs had room amongst your many bags. 

“That is quite a coincidence,” you agreed. “Funny thing is, I didn’t even choose the location. I have a business meeting in the morning with possible investors and they set everything up for the stay.”

Fred’s mouth practically dropped open at what you had said. “You’re kidding. These investors don’t happen to be Robbie Goldstein and Rachel McMillan, do they?”

“Ok, you need to stop doing that,” you said, officially freaked. “That’s the third time you’ve predicted something and it’s starting to creep me out. You never were very good at legilimency.”

He hushed you quickly, hoping the cab driver hadn’t caught onto the magical term you just used. Thankfully, he was too focused on the roads to notice. 

“Ok, Y/N, one last question.”

“And then you’ll explain how you know all this?”

Fred ignored your question and continued with his own. “You said you opened a business. Are you perhaps meeting with another business owner to discuss a collaboration on a new store opening in the city?”

“Yes!” you said, eager to know how Fred could have known that. Was this another one of his pranks? Did he have hidden cameras in the cab somewhere? “How do you know all this?”

He only laughed, a joyous and very relieved grin overtaking his face. Sticking out his right hand, he grabbed yours and shook it eagerly. “Well, Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to be reacquainted. I’m Frederick Weasley, your new potential partner.”

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

“You know, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Oh thank Godric, I was worried you’d think I was grown up and mature now.”

You laughed heartily as you dragged your bags out of the cab, thanking the driver before he grunted annoyedly and drove off. Your drive from the airport had gone faster than expected, mostly due to the fact that you and Fred had so much to catch up on. 

After he and George had left Hogwarts in their grand exit, they’d created the shop they’d always dreamed of, parking it right in the middle of Diagon Alley. You, on the other hand, went about creating your success in a much more conventional way. After finishing your last year of school, you started working full time at Zonko’s at Hogsmeade, trying to save up enough money to start your own business. 

Many long hours and tiring days later, you opened up your little place, a toy store and puzzle shop. It was a similar setup to what the Weasleys did, but as you described it, “my toys don’t blow up in the user's face.”

You were now very excited for tomorrow’s meeting, the one you had been dreading beforehand. Your business was much smaller than Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and this would be your first international location. You were afraid that the owner you would be forced to work with would be some stuck up rich big whig who wouldn’t allow you to keep any of your small business charm in the new location. But learning that you would be working with Fred, well that was a relief for many reasons. 

Fred rang the hotel desk bell, chatting happily about ideas for the shared shop and new products that fit with what both of you wanted to do. 

“Hello there,” said the hotel receptionist, coming around the corner. “What can I do for you today?”

“Two night stay for Frederick Weasley,” said Fred. “Should’ve been booked by Robbie Goldstein.”

The young man typed quickly into his computer before offering Fred a hotel key card. “Here you are Mr. Weasley, room 504. We serve complimentary breakfast from 6 to 9 every morning down in our west hall. If you need anything don’t be afraid to call down and we’ll assist you in any way we can.”

Fred nodded at the man. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He turned to leave before you grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him back. 

“Wait for me,” you said. “I’m not finished talking to you yet.”

Fred smiled and waited behind you as you took your turn at the desk. 

“Y/N L/N, also booked by Robbie Goldstein.” 

He clicked away again but paused for a few seconds, seemingly confused. “You said Y/N L/N?”

Starting to get nervous, you nodded. “Yes, that’s me. Is the reservation not there?” You didn’t want to think about having to find somewhere else to stay, especially because it was getting so late. 

“Oh no,” the man replied. “It’s here all right.” Ignoring the confused looks you and Fred were giving each other, the receptionist handed you a hotel key card and gestured to the elevator. “Thank you for choosing to stay with us. You’ll be staying for two nights in room 504. Don’t forget to enjoy our complimentary breakfast from 6--”

“I’m sorry,” Fred interrupted. “But that’s my room. You did say 504, right?”

“Yes sir,” he replied, not bothering to try to understand the predicament. “Mr. Goldstein booked one room for the both of you.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Fred, silently asking him to help you figure this out. But instead, Fred just broke out laughing, having to brace himself on the front desk. 

“I guess that’s what you expect when you let two investors who specialize in pranking shops make the room accommodations.”

“This isn’t funny Fred,” you said, although you had to give Robbie and Rachel credit for this joke. Turning to the receptionist, you sighed and ran your hands through your hair. “There’s at least two separate beds, right?”

He glanced down at his computer screen before looking back up at you with a guilty smile. “Well, about that…”

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

“Alright, I’ll take the couch, I’m sure it’s a pullout, it has to be.”

Fred stood in the doorway watching you mumble mostly to yourself. As tired as he was and as much as he wanted to just lie down and sleep, somehow watching you freak out about the sleeping arrangements was a much better use of his time. 

He watched as you threw the pillows and cushions off of the couch and felt around for a lever, something, anything that would allow you a place to rest. Your face lit up as you felt a small impression and yanked with all your might, only causing you to thump backwards onto your butt on the hotel room floor. 

Kicking off his shoes, Fred jumped onto the bed, sighing as he let his body relax. “Come on in darling, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

He opened one eye slightly, just enough to see your reaction. You were trying again to make the couch open, although you both knew that it wasn’t a pullout. Nevertheless, you kept pulling at every spot you thought could make a difference. 

It reminded Fred of the good old days, back at Hogwarts when you two were so close. You were always so stubborn, and he didn’t realize just how much he had missed having you in his life. He always wondered what happened to you after he and George left, but with the shop opening up and the war around the corner, he never had the thought to write you or track you down. He hoped this time after you two parted ways you would still remain in touch. 

You groaned loudly, slapping the couch with one of the pillows you had thrown earlier. Nothing was going as planned and you couldn’t be more annoyed. 

“Fine,” you huffed. “I’ll just sleep on the couch, no need for a pullout.” You stomped over to the bed and angrily pulled the blanket from off of him. 

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to grab it back but you were too quick. “That’s not fair, it’s cold!”

“If you get the bed,” you said, wrapping yourself up, “then I get to stay warm. Now go to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He couldn’t help but giggle at the small bundle of you wrapped up in the hotel quilt, looking like an angry little burrito. Standing, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in the corner, followed next by his undershirt before he unbuckled his belt. He turned to face you slowly, feeling your eyes on him as they peeked out of your wrapping. 

You quickly turned your gaze and glared at the floor. “What are you doing?” you said, hoping Fred didn’t see the blush rising to your cheeks. He did. 

He continued to undress, leaving him only in a pair of red boxers that left little to the imagination. “Going to bed, as you said,” he replied nonchalantly. He grabbed a toothbrush from his suitcase and made his way to the bathroom, making sure to walk extra slowly and give you a longer show. 

“This is so unprofessional!” you yelled after him. 

“We’re not business partners until tomorrow, love,” Fred said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “As far as I see it we can do anything we want tonight.”

Rolling your eyes, you shed the large blanket and grabbed an oversized t-shirt from your bag, hoping you’d be able to change before Fred finished in the bathroom. As he emerged, he saw the tail end of you throwing the shirt on, flashing your thighs and part of your panties for half a second. He averted his eyes out of respect, but that didn’t stop his imagination from running away with what he just saw. 

You shuffled past him, taking your turn in the bathroom. How in the world had this happened? How had a nice catch-up with a friend turned into an awkward back and forth the night before the most important business meeting of your life?

All you wanted to do was fall asleep, go through with whatever tomorrow brought you, and pretend like this never happened. But as you came out of the bathroom, you saw that Fred had taken the blanket back, leaving you with nothing except your t-shirt and an uncomfortable couch. 

“Fred, let me have it,” you said, trying to yank it from his grip. 

“No,” he mumbled, voice muffled by one of the many pillows he was cuddled with. 

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, give me the blanket now or so help me…”

Instead of responding, he just reached out and patted you on the top of your head before rolling over and pretending to snore. He was infuriating. 

You sulked back to the couch, accepting your defeat. You pulled out all of the clothes in your bag, hoping they could form as some sort of makeshift blanket. But after a few minutes of shivering and curling into the smallest ball possible, you realized that you’d never manage to sleep like this. Fred was staring at you, partially amused and partially concerned. You looked away. 

“You can always share with me, you know,” he said, patting the bed next to him. 

You scoffed and turned away. “Like I said, Fred, we’re soon-to-be business partners. Imagine how that would look! I’m fine right here, thank you.”

After a few seconds of silence you snuck another look at him. He hadn’t moved an inch, and was instead looking more concerned than before. “You’re going to freeze to death over there.”

“Well maybe that’s because someone stole my blanket.”

“The blanket comes with the bed, and the bed comes with me. Take it or leave it.”

It took everything in you not to scream. You wanted that warm, soft, comfortable bed more than anything at the moment. You needed it. Oh but it would send such a bad message if anyone ever found out…

“If we get caught I’m blaming you,” you relented, trudging over to the bed and crawling underneath the covers, ripping the blanket from a very amused Fred. 

“Who’s gonna catch us, Robbie and Rachel? They’re the ones that set this up! Trust me, nothing’s going to happen.” 

“It better not,” you said. “And make sure you stay on your side of the bed, I mean it! No touching.”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” Fred said, rolling slightly closer to you. “You act as if we’ve never done this before. We’ve slept with each other dozens of times.”

Your face went red at his words, wishing he would have phrased it a different way. 

“You know what I mean,” he said quickly, hearing how his words came across. “But the amount of times we’ve cuddled up in the Gryffindor common room or up stargazing in the astronomy tower. It’s just me, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“We were also 17 and a lot closer back then,” you retorted, remembering the fond memories you had from your high school days. 

Fred huffed and returned to his side. “I’m not saying we weren’t. I just wish you weren’t acting so different now. It’s like we’re barely friends anymore…” His voice drifted off, wishing that he could go back and change the past. It had been 8 years since he last saw you. 8 whole years. Maybe things would’ve been different if he had tried to stay in touch. You’d never even visited his shop in those 8 years, never seen everything he was so proud of. He was stupid to think that one reunion was going to bring back a friendship that was practically already dead. He was even more stupid to think that maybe, just maybe, fate was giving him one last chance to shoot his shot, close to a decade later. What a right idiot he was. 

On the other side of the bed, less than a meter away, similar thoughts raced through your mind. 8 years. Why hadn’t you, in 8 years, made one trip to visit their shop. Sure, there was a war going on and you were busy starting your own shop, but things had been fairly calm the last few years. Why had you never reached out? Almost subconsciously, you reached out physically for Fred. Your hand brushed up against his back before you tensed and drew back. You both stilled for a few moments, before Fred rolled over, facing you. 

The two of you just stared at each other, both playing mental images of what your lives could have looked like the last 8 years if just one of you had done something. 

“You’re not seeing anyone, are you?” Fred asked, breaking the silence. You shook your head. He moved closer. 

“Are you?” you asked. He shook his head. You moved closer. 

Your faces were now about a foot apart. You moved your hand to rest it between your face and the pillow. Fred copied your actions. You laughed softly, the movement causing a strand of hair to fall into your face. 

Fred reached his hand out to move it before hesitating. “Can I?” His voice was so soft, so full of care. His hand hesitated in the air for a second before you nodded. He brushed the strands behind your ear, fingertips so gentle that you got chills up and down your spine. He let his hand linger before it moved to cup your face. “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled and leaned into his touch. “I’ve missed you too, Freddie.”

His hand left your face and moved down to your waist, eyes not leaving yours in case you ever grew uncomfortable. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him just like you used to do all those years ago. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and hummed contently, before both of you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

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

“Freddie, Y/N! How are ya!”

Robbie Goldstein, a plump man with fading hair ran up to greet you and Fred in the lobby of his and his partner’s office, shaking both of your hands fervently. 

“Hey Robbie,” said Fred, slapping the man on the back. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Same with me,” you said, glad you could finally meet the man with whom you’d been discussing business through letters in person. 

Robbie looked between the two of you, sly grin on his face. “Ah, so I see you’ve already met them. Wouldn’t happen to be because of a little mishap at the hotel last night, would it?”

You groaned internally, hating that someone else knew about the previous night, but Fred only laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“A great prank, I must admit, but Y/N and I actually go way back. I’ve known her since I was 11 years old, so nice try. I couldn’t imagine how that would’ve gone if we were complete strangers.”

Robbie’s face fell a little before he shrugged and nodded his head in defeat. “Well, what are the odds of that?”

“Astronomical,” you said, giving Fred a subtle tap with your foot. 

Robbie gestured for the two of you to follow him into the conference room where discussions about the new business would commence. “Well, I’m glad that you two seem to get along then, this is going to make things a lot easier. Oh, and don’t worry about arrangements tonight, I’ve decided not to let my joke stretch on and I booked another room for one of you for your last night in town.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Fred, and stepped into the conference room. “Thanks Robbie, that makes things a lot easier.”

“Yeah,” said Fred hesitantly, “thanks for that.”

He shut the door behind you and straightened up. There was no place for personal feelings in this business negotiation. He needed to do what was best for his company and yours, no distractions. No thoughts of crushed hope that suddenly plagued his mind. 

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

Fred hated the bed he was sleeping on. Granted, it was the same bed as the night before, but this time it felt different. It felt like it was mocking him. You had been the one to offer to change rooms and it seemed like you couldn’t wait to get out of there and to your own bedroom, free of any Weasleys. It made Fred sick to think about. 

He had just gotten used to the idea of something happening between the two of you. Last night, it all seemed perfect. You had cuddled the same way you had before, talked like nothing had changed. Hell, he even woke up with you lying sprawled out on top of him, a little trickle of drool falling onto his chest. He didn’t mind. 

But now, everything that happened the night before seemed like a dream. 

Fred knew he’d at least get to see you sporadically from now on. Your business negotiations with Robbie and Rachel went great, and the two of you, three counting George, were going to be combining forces and opening a joke and toy shop in the city sometime within the next year. It went exactly how Fred had wanted it to go, and yet so horribly wrong at the same time. 

He didn’t want to only interact with you as a business partner and casual friend. He wanted so much more than you were willing to give him, and having to see you and write you and work with you was going to be torture for him. He buried his face in the pillows, gripping the large blanket to his chest, wishing it was you instead. Stupid Robbie and his stupid pranks and stupid business and--

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Fred lifted his head to check the clock. It was 2 in the morning. Who in the world would be knocking this late at night? Fred slowly got out of bed, too tired to bother putting anything more decent on. He looked through the peephole of the door but his eyes were too blurry to make anything out. Groaning, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

Standing in front of him, clothed in the oversized t-shirt from last night and a pair of booty shorts, was you, looking nervous and embarrassed. Fred hadn’t noticed the previous day, but the shirt you had been wearing was one of his old Quidditch practice jerseys, all beat up and way too huge on you. He remembered the day he gave that to you, or rather when you stole it from him because you complained about it being too cold. Fred had to hold back a laugh at the irony. 

“I, umm,” you started, not knowing what to say to him. How were you supposed to explain that you missed him so much that spending one night away from him was too much for you to bear? How last night had been the best sleep you had in years because of how content and at peace he made you feel. How could you convey all of your feelings to him at this very moment?

“I don’t want to be alone.”

Fred wasted no time in picking you up, laughing as you screamed and kicked your legs around. “Fred Weasley, you put me down!”

He did as he was told and threw you onto the bed before jumping, arms and legs spread out, and landing straight on top of you. “I’m so glad you're here,” he said, peppering your cheeks with kisses. He pushed himself up, scanning your face to make sure what he did was ok, but you grabbed his face in your cheeks and pulled him down into a long kiss. Fred smiled through the kiss, almost laughing at how everything was working out. Maybe fate did have something to do with it after all. 

Fred pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “So,” he said, mischief glinting in his eyes, “how about we put this bed to good use?”

Tag List: @famdomhideout​ @amourtentiaa​

[anasticklefics]

Unsaid

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Poe/Finn

Summary: They land on a planet that has a field that tickles anyone who comes near, and Poe is having one too many feelings about it.

A/N: My first fic back from hiatus! Honestly I’m only posting something because I wrote more than half of this while I was gone, but felt inspired to finish it today. I hope you like it, I’m very proud 🥺

Words: 2k

A breeze of heat ruffled Poe’s hair as he stood at the edge of the Field of Laughter on a planet that had too much of an orange tint for his liking. It reminded him of dry, unforgiving land full of sand and nothing but sand, but mostly it reminded him of the times he’d been stranded, so thirsty he could die, running for his life over the scorching ground. Just last week, that is. It reminded him of being near death, and of watching Finn and Rey getting dragged just out of his reach.

“It’s okay, you know,” Finn told him now, watching Poe as Poe watched the field. “If you want to try it, I mean.”

Poe chanced a glance at him, wondering what the orange tint made his blush look like. “I’m good.”

“Poe.” Finn had mastered the knowing smile he occasionally shot his way wonderfully. An amusement to it, but also something kind that made Poe all the more embarrassed whenever it was aimed at him. Vulnerability, even during the war, was always something that terrified him, even more than the war.

“Really, I’m okay,” he said, averting his gaze back toward the dancing blades of yellow grass. They’d been told the field was bigger than it seemed, twisting and turning behind the mountains and the trees Poe had been surprised to find here. They all looked dead, but were apparently perfectly fine.

“If you’re worried someone will see or hear you we could go further.”

“Why do you think I want to try it?”

“Oh, come on now.” Finn bumped their shoulders together. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The Field of Laughter was said to be a very ticklish experience; so much so that the natives who lived by it had developed a thicker skin, quite literally so, in order to survive having to cross it. It had saved them valuable time, not having to walk around it, and it only got a couple of giggles out of the younger ones now.

Poe was absolutely certain he would never escape the dancing blades, whose only purpose in life was to tickle whomever walked over and through them. They were kept regularly short, cut with hovering blades and quick hands, as they could probably tickle someone to death if they were able to trap them. A field of torture for most, but something else to Poe.

“I promise to pull you out if it becomes too much,” Finn continued, but Poe could tell he wasn’t going to push it more. It was up to Poe to decide whether he was brave enough to be vulnerable in more than one way.

They’d landed there by accident. A mission gone wrong, but not so wrong it had really cost them anything. Just time, which they sometimes couldn’t afford and other times were swimming in. They’d been fortunate, for once, to be rich enough to give it away so easily to a planet that neither attacked them nor wanted to help them. Proud of their history, but wary of their grounds, meaning they told them everything but let them see little. Poe knew of the group that had settled not too far away from their makeshift camp, keeping an eye on them and making sure they didn’t stray past the point they’d been allowed to see. Poe wasn’t sure why they’d been forced to stay by the Field of Laughter of all places, but he’d been thoroughly on edge for the past two days because of it.

“Better be careful,” Jess had said, pointing to the field. “If you piss me off I might throw you in.”

Poe hadn’t replied, his ears still ringing with the story of the field they’d just been told. Lab-made. Torture device. Impossible to stop. It had made him want to peel his skin off to hear it.

“Poe.” Finn, his one and only confidant in this, hadn’t teased him like Poe had feared, but that knowing look had almost been worse. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

One thing you should know about Poe Dameron: he had absolutely no idea how to handle any type of feeling that involved vulnerability, which included embarrassment and fear and love and lust. Unfortunately his feelings about tickling had traces of all, to a certain point. It was embarrassing to love something most people hated. It was terrifying to love something to the point of sensuality.

Finn had found out by accident, too. A drunken night, Poe too touch-starved and exhausted and in love with him to keep quiet, and while whatever they were was still unsaid and only shown in quiet fingertips to skin, Finn was all too eager to give him what he wanted after he’d let it slip. Poe refused to talk about it now, all of it unsaid and quiet, all theirs but barely.

Finn hadn’t mentioned the field as they’d started their walk, but Poe couldn’t look at him as they’d walked along the edge of it, maybe too close to it for comfort. One misstep and he could fall in, and then he’d have to face one too many truths at once.

Truth was, he almost wished someone would push him in. Just as an excuse.

“It almost doesn’t look like the blades are dancing,” was the first thing he’d said. “There’s no rhythm to it.”

“I’m sure they’re trying their best,” Finn had replied and Poe had laughed, nearly hysterically, as if giddy at the idea of having them dance over his skin.

“How does it even work?” he said now, two days later, the evening sun still bright and orange, but fading ever so slightly by the minute. “Like, do they go for your feet first or trip you or what?” He was only able to ask because it sounded so stupid to ask it.

“No idea.” Finn tilted his head at the field. “Does it work if you’re dressed and wearing shoes?”

“No idea.”

“Maybe we should ask someone. I’m sure they’d be willing to share.”

“We’d look too invested.”

Finn grabbed his wrist, squeezing once and calming him instantly. “We don’t have to.”

Poe went to bed untickled, tangled up in Finn’s embrace.

*

He only went because he’d dreamt of it and had learned to take dreams seriously years ago. In his dream it had been intoxicating, the sensation unbearable enough to have felt real, and so he went, wondering if he would leave or die there, laughing until it hurt him. That was the most fascinating part. Where did the line go between pleasure and pain when it came to something like this? How much could he take? Were Finn’s occasional prodding hands enough or was he capable of handling more?

In retrospect there was probably a safer way to figure this out, but Poe stopped by the edge of the field, feet bare and pants rolled up to his calves, with a relief he rarely ever felt regarding this. The early morning sun was more of a soft canary yellow than orange, and Poe felt he could breathe more easily.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a murmur as he bent to get closer to the grass. “Aren’t you causing a lot of commotion.”

He didn’t feel stupid to speak to it. Somehow he felt it was alive, just communicating differently than him. He’d walked as far as he’d been able to, but felt as if his laughter would still be heard if it caught him. Many years ago, when he’d had too much pride to admit to vulnerability, he’d been captured by a rope and remained hanging upside down for longer than was comfortable, squirming, struggling, but refusing to scream for help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet during this.

The blades did nothing to acknowledge his presence and Poe longed for a thick forest - preferably a dark green one - to hide him from view when he reached out a finger to hover above it. An idiot, they would call him if they saw him. An idiot that’s asking for it.

If only they knew how desperately he was really asking. How loud and persistent and starved his pleas were, in the midst of a war that gave him no privacy to be candid.

“Would you let go of me if I asked nicely?” The blades were just out of reach. He could imagine them suddenly reaching forward and gripping him by the wrist, pulling him in and under for the rest of his giggly eternity.

But of course, they merely kept dancing. He wiggled his index finger over them. “Are you ticklish yourselves?”

The silence around him was deafening. If he fell he would be heard by the whole universe.

If he didn’t fall he could pretend he had. Say he’d been sleepwalking, hence his lack of proper footwear, and had ended up in this ticklish awakening.

Finn would know, naturally, but Finn would never tell. Would only try to gently coax the answers out of him and Poe would blush and blush and blush until he would say something stupid that would have Finn either laughing or rolling his eyes. Finn would drop it only momentarily, for it was too big of a thing to do on your own for him to never bring up again.

Poe wasn’t surprised when Finn appeared a moment later, his steps quiet but not non-existent. “Hi.”

Poe sighed and straightened, turned to glance at him quickly to hide the already spreading flush. “Hi.”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Hmm, either. Happy it was the latter.” He stopped beside him, letting their shoulders brush as they gazed over the field. “Are you gonna do it?”

“Not sure. Honestly I might’ve stood here for hours if you hadn’t arrived.”

“I can hold your hand. Pull you back out.”

Poe looked at him. Finn, with his own worries and dark circles under his eyes from how little he actually slept and his ever present way of reaching out without expecting anything back. If he trusted anyone with this it was him.

“Okay.”

Finn met his gaze. “Okay?”

Poe held out his hand. “Okay.”

Finn took it.

*

In retrospect it was both an overwhelming and underwhelming experience. The idea of it, the actual act of stepping his bare foot onto the field, still made his heart race. But while it did tickle it wasn’t the hysteria he’d been imagining. To be fair, he only let it go as far as to his calf before he decided he’d had enough, but for someone as sensitive as him it should’ve been worse.

It did tickle, though. It tickled a lot.

“I think you’re just too used to the sensation,” Finn told him after they’d returned to their quarters.

Poe huffed in embarrassment. “Not like that.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve pinned you plenty of times.”

“Not like that,” Poe said, quieter.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

As he’d stepped onto the field, Finn’s hand tight over his, Poe had felt fear and excitement and shame and acceptance, all at once, as the blades started dancing over his skin. When he’d realized, after the blades had started tickling between his toes, that he wasn’t able to actually remove his foot from the grass, was when he’d started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that, though,” Finn said now. “I’m actually offended. I’m definitely taking this as a challenge.”

“How did I laugh?” Poe asked, because yes okay sometimes embarrassment made him stupid.

“Desperately. More high pitched than usual.” Finn’s smirk was intoxicating and fucking terrifying. “Want to try to recreate it?”

“People will hear us,” Poe said, already laughing stupidly, nervously, too smitten for his own good.

“I have a perfectly good palm to muffle it.”

And so the rest of Poe got tickled, too.

[wavyhairedbabyy]

Idiots - Part 1

Karl Jacobs x gn!reader

tldr: They’ve both got a crush. Sucks, since they’re the only ones oblivious to it. (Slow Burn!)

CW: some swearing(not at each other), fluffy as a teddy bear.

a/n: I got a random influx of followers ;-; Tysm for enjoying my works and sharing them. I haven’t written in 6 years, in case it wasn’t obvious lmao, so even one is super meaningful to me :) this ended up being way longer than I intended it to be so I’m splitting it into 2 parts. 

edited yet: yes - let me know if I missed anything!

Part 1 - Part 2

Y/n and Karl met when Karl was still going to college in New York before dropping things to move to North Carolina. They met the fall of their sophomore year at the campus café when Karl was trying to shoot a piece of paper into a trash can. The problem was he couldn’t aim and it landed right in y/n’s mug of coffee, quickly dissolving into a paper coffee soup. For anyone else it would’ve been okay but being that coffee was y/n’s life line, especially during finals, it most definitely was not.

“You’re buying me another, right?” they asked, “I would highly recommend it or you might see a side of me you don’t want to see.”

Being the good guy he was, and the slight fear of their bad side, he did with no questions.

“So, since there’s a side of you I don’t want to see, and I bought you a new coffee, do I get to see the side of you that I do want to see?”

“Find me next semester and you might.”

And he did.

***

“Karl, if you don’t give me that sword, I’m going to hurt you!” Y/n screamed as they lunged toward him. It was y/n, Karl, and Chris hanging out at Karl’s place until it was time to leave for a Mr. Beast project. They sat in his living room, Karl with a foam sword that y/n was desperate to take from him.

“That’s the problem! If I give it to you, you will hurt me with it!” He yelled back, jumping out of their reach.

“Okay children, why don’t I just take the sword so we can end all of this?” Chris intervened in an attempt to stop the ruckus.

Both of them paused, looking at him in disbelief. They shook their head and in unison scoffed, “No!”

The two continued their play fighting, one holding on to the sword for a short period of time before the other pulled it from their grasp. This went on until it was time to leave the house.

While this was all going down, Chris watched Karl’s behavior. He noticed how he let y/n hold on to the sword a little longer, even when he could’ve easily reached out to grab it from their hands. He noticed how he was much more careful with his movements, almost scared to be too rough with them.

With anyone else, Chris knew Karl’s pride would have taken over in this situation. He thought back to any other time he had any of his SMP friends over. With Nick or Alex, he would have hogged the sword and brutally whacked either of them with it as much as he could. He would happily tacked them and pinned them to the ground. With y/n though... there was a gentleness with them, and Chris did not fail on picking that up.

“Okay lame-os, let’s get on over to the warehouse. Y/n, you coming?” Chris asked.

Y/n shook their head, “Nah. I’m gonna unpack my stuff and relax from the flight. Plus, word on the street says that tomorrow is when the cool stuff is happening so I’ll come then.” they replied.

“Well the street is right, but they’re still a dummy,” Chris looked at Karl for reference.

“Hey...” Karl faked a sad look before staring at y/n for defense.

Y/n giggle and just shrugged, waving goodbye to the both of them, “If you don’t bring me back Burger King fries, don’t bother coming back at all!”

***

Chris and Karl sat in the car, Chris driving and Karl in the passenger seat. With some music on in the background, the two were discussing the plan of action for what was going to be filmed for the day.

“Do you know how long it’s going to take?” Karl asked, “I feel bad leaving y/n by themselves so I want to try to get out as early as humanly possible.”

“I’m not really sure. I’m sure Jimmy wouldn’t mind you scootin’ out a little early,” Chris replied. He took the opportunity and leaned over to his friend, “Speakin’ of y/n, anything going on there? Y’know, anything special?”

“Uhh- whaddya mean special?” Karl haphazardly, “We’re best friends. I think that’s pretty special.”

“No, idiot. I mean is there anything there besides just being best friends,” Chris paused for a second, “I dunno. I just noticed you’re different with them, man. You know you would never treat Nick or Alex the way you treated them.”

Karl paused, trying to think of a response but failing. He sighed, “Yeah, there’s definitely something there on my end. I mean, I’ve been attracted to them since we first met. I just don’t think they reciprocate it.”

“You never know if you don’t try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I’d rather not think about it,” Karl sunk into his seat, thinking of all the bad endings that could happen if he told y/n his feelings.

***

Meanwhile this was happening, y/n was making themselves comfortable in Karl’s guest room. They planned on staying for a week and a half which meant packing a month’s worth of clothes. Before starting to unpack their things into the dresser, they FaceTimed their other best friend that was back in New York to keep them company.

“You’re calling me now? Your flight landed 4 hours ago! I was sure you crashed in the middle of the ocean - gone like that Malaysia flight,” y/bff answered.

“Hi to you too,” y/n responded as they started to place their clothes in the closet, “ You are so dramatic. My flight didn’t even go over the ocean. And don’t act like you weren’t tracking my flight. You knew damn well I was fine.”

“All this worrying and caring, and this is how I’m being treated?” Y/bff shook their head as the wiped their fake tears away “The disrespect.”

“Pft, the only disrespect I’m seeing here is the lack of questions about my day,” y/n said, “I had a great flight. I got those yummy blue chips and had a nice drive from the airport in a Tesla.”

Y/bff gasped, “What kind of Uber driver is driving around a Tesla? We need more of those people up here.”

“Dude, it was Karl,” y/n replied, “I was shocked. Last time I saw this kid he was driving a hunk of junk. One year down here and he’s driving around like he’s Elon Musk.”

“Well, I’ll tell you this now. If you don’t cuff him, I will!” Their laugh echoed through the phone

Y/n rolled their eyes, “Oh please, if he doesn’t like me like that then you’re in no good luck.”

“So you told him then?”

“No, not yet,” y/n paused, “I dunno. We’ve been friends for 3, almost 4, years now. If he liked me, he would’ve said something by now. Plus we live so far away from each other now. I just don’t wanna ruin a good thing, y’know?”

“Well, I still say do it. You can tell him and spend your life in peace knowing his answer, or keep it to you yourself and spend the rest of your life wondering ‘what if?’ And I’ll tell you now, the latter always ends with regret. With the first answer, you’ll at least have a chance of a happy ending.”

Y/n shrugged, putting away the last piece of clothing from their luggage, “I know, I know. I’ll think about it. Thanks for the chat, but I’m gonna go relax now before he gets back. I love and miss you already.”

They exchanged their goodbyes and hung up. Y/n flattened their luggage and slid it under the bed. Moving back to the dresser, they found some comfortable clothes to change into after a shower.

Y/n knew y/bff was right. They just couldn’t bring themselves to share their feelings. What if Karl didn’t feel the same way? Would it ruin their friendship? Would this be the last time they ever saw each other? No, y/n knew it wouldn’t end their friendship, but it would make it awkward for a little while. They moved to the bathroom. Maybe a shower would help them compose their thoughts.

***

“I’m back!” Karl shouted as he kicked the door shut behind him. The project took a few hours so the sun had set and nighttime was settling itself in North Carolina. There was no response. Karl continued, “And I have Burger King fries!”

“You should’ve started out with that! Coming!” Y/n yelled from down the hall. Karl rolled his eyes and walked over to the living room table. He started making room for the food when he heard fast footsteps coming toward him.

“Incoming!” Y/n yelled, tackling him to the floor with a hug. They were giggling as if they just pulled the best prank in the world.

“Hi to you too,” he groaned from his body hitting the floor. Y/n continued to chuckle as they got up, grabbing Karl’s hand to help him up too. They sat on the couch, looking at the food in front of them.

“A whole whopper meal? What did I do to get the honors, Mr. Jacobs?” Y/n remarked in a posh accent, popping a fry into their mouth.

“You existed,” Karl giggled out. Y/n smiled, but the butterflies in their stomach couldn’t feign their excitement. It was small shit like that that made y/n fall for Karl. He continued, “Plus I didn’t know if you ate or not so I thought better safer than sorry.”

“Aw, you’re the sweetest,” they gave him a tight hug before returning to the spot they were in on the couch, “So, what’s the plan, Stan?”

“I’m kind of tired from filming, I hope you don’t mind-”

“Actually, I completely mind” y/n replied sarcastically. Karl shook his head at them.

“So, I was thinking we could just watch a movie or watch a show,”

“Ah yes, head empty activities. I’m down. Can we watch a movie though? Not in the mood for a show right now,” y/n replied.

“Sure let’s scroll through and find something,” Karl switched on the TV and the two munched on their food while they decided what they were going to watch. After 20 minutes of scrolling, which really was 20 minutes of fighting over who had better taste in movies, they finally agreed on Wall-E.

Before the movie started, y/n looked over to Karl. Their hands were in the shape of finger guns, pointed to each other and the tips of their index fingers touching. They had a pout on their face when they asked, “Can we cuddle while we watch?”

“No,” Karl shook his head quickly, keeping a stoic, straight face. Y/n’s pout got bigger. He continued, “I absolutely hate physical touch.”

They both immediately broke out into giggles, y/n grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him with it, “You are so lame.”

Karl continued with his fit of giggle, “The day I say that and mean it is the day hell freezes over.”

As the intro to the movie played, the two came closer, y/n’s legs tangling up with Karl’s. When they finished up their food, they moved closer with Karl’s arm around y/n’s shoulders and their head laying on his chest.

Y/n gave a playful scoff, reminiscing on their past memories together, “This reminds me of the time we had a Disney movie marathon before spring break.”

Karl laughed, “Yeah, and you made my old roommate cry beforehand because he wasn’t doing his dishes all semester.”

“In my defense, I gave him warnings. He didn’t wanna listen and there’s no way I was letting you live in a house with a sink full of fruit flies.”

“I’m not sure if you did that for me or because you practically lived with us.”

“Don’t get it mixed up, pretty boy. That was for you.” Karl smiled at those words, looking down at the person laying on their chest. He wanted to believe there was more than friendship behind those words. The warm feeling he would always get with them filled his chest as he turned his focus back to the movie.

“I really missed you.” He whispered.

“I really missed you too.”

***

Part 2

[zodiyack]

In Regards Of My Ex

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst

Words: 2,125

Summary: Niklaus believes deceitful gossip from Aurora De Martel about his wife and takes his anger out on her. As a result, Y/n leaves and finds comfort with Cami and Davina, who call in backup to confront the big bad hybrid about his big bad dumbassery.

Note: I’ve been in a fluffy mood as of recently HOWEVER this idea was sparked when I was feeling angsty™ so...sorry but also not sorry?

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @simonsbluee​, @darling-i-read-it​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @dpaccione​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

“That wife of yours has been sneaking around with my brother. Breaking more hearts than just yours from what I can see.”

“I suppose some people just can’t see the worthiness of the king in front of them. If I were your wife, I wouldn’t be like Y/n. I’d be committed you and never give you fib tales like her.”

“You are aware that Y/n has been plotting something nefarious against you, aren’t you?”

“I know you wanted to marry someone just as sinister as you, but perhaps you should’ve checked where her loyalty lied before tying that knot.”

Aurora fed him stories such as these, and many more, each conclusion of the lies spewing from her mouth something appalling about Y/n. At first, Klaus didn’t listen, but as her stories grew worse and worse, the faux feeling of treachery intensified. He knew it was unwise to believe anything that came from the spiteful, jealous woman...yet, his distress caused pain to strike his heart and he yearned to know the truth.

Although, in this case, the “truth” wasn’t actually very truthful.

She often told him things like that Lucien was going after his girl for the second time, first with her when she had her chance and now, his beloved wife. Klaus merely brushed it off with an honest “he tries and I’ll stake him first chance I get”. However, Aurora wasn’t finished yet. She continued to lie and deceive Niklaus about the woman who she accused of replacing her in his life. The envy and loathing Aurora felt for Y/n was her motivator, but the woman was too far up a wall to need one in the first place.

“Are you telling me the truth?” He growled, keeping his eyes trained at the wall in front of them.

“Why do you ask?”

“I need to know I can trust your bold claims. So answer me, Aurora, are you telling me the truth?”

That smug little grin, masking her deluding ways. “Of course, Nik. I would never lie to you.” Her welcome into his trust was unsurprisingly taken advantage of  when she traced her finger down his arm and then brought her hand up his abdomen slowly. Klaus shoved her invasive hand off of his chest though, giving her a warning glare.

“Thank you for informing me.” That was all he said to her before he made his way out of the room in the most hurry she’d ever seen him in.

Aurora smiled conceitedly. Her plans were on the right track. Whilst Nik didn’t have the same feelings for her now as he did way back during the beginning of their story, but Aurora was determined to stir those feelings from the dead as vampirism did him and her.

She drawled under her breath, “I will have you again, Nik.” her mischievous smile grew wider, “I will have you again, and nothing can stop me this time.”

“Blasphemy!” Niklaus shouted, veins popping out from the rage coursing in his system. He neared Y/n again, the slight fear in her eyes drawing a pause for a second, guilt stilling him, but his anger took the reigns once more.

“It’s not blasphemy! I would never lie to you!”

“The falsity of your deception proves otherwise, love.” He smirked, raising his brows as to question if she would battle his words yet again. Proof was what he needed, but his vexation had drowned out all logic, including his ability to see the proof he wanted so desperately.

“What deception? What falsehood do you believe to have come from my mouth? When I married you, I vowed to be truthful and loyal. You of all people on this fucking earth should know I always keep a vow.” She narrowed her eyes at him. The betrayal he thought he felt was temporary and fabricated, but hers was 100% genuine and seething within her.

“You say that but if you were indeed an untrue person, your answer would be no different.”

“Why do you insist on proving me a traitor!? What has pushed you so far past your breaking point that you actually accuse me, your wife, as a viper?”

“Don’t you pretend like you don’t know the malicious schemes you’ve plotted against me or the affairs you’ve had with men who obviously aren’t your husband!” He couldn’t stop himself now; “I’ve loved you for centuries and you decide to be disloyal and ill-natured?!”

“Says who?!”

“Says Aurora!” After the words flew from his mouth, a tiny part of him realized just how fucked up it sounded. Just how fucked up it was that he believed her over his wife, but the hybrid was stubborn. He was too stubborn to change his belief or admit his fallacious accusations were unjust without proper evidence.

Y/n knew Aurora and Klaus’ story. Her knowledge of the ancient and long forgotten tale made her reaction thousands of times worse. “Aurora? ...Huh. You choose to believe her- that manipulative, lying bitch, over me? I thought you knew me better than that.” She wiped away a rebellious tear, “I thought I knew you better than that.”

Disappointment hung heavy on her features, drawing a feeling of shame from Klaus. Y/n glared at him one last time, her knitted brows and vaguely teary eyes evidence of the heavy-heartedness that overwhelmed her. She bit the inside of her mouth and shook her head disapprovingly before turning and walking out the front gate-doors of the Mikaelson mansion. Klaus was alone.

The sounds of Davina’s giggles echoed, Cami sitting in front of her and chuckling heartfully as well. Their laughter died off when they noticed Y/n sulking through the front doors of Rousseau's. The place was empty aside from the two women having drinks and a friendly chat. Then Y/n entered and found a seat. The atmosphere, once cheery, suddenly felt melancholy.

“Hey, Y/n, you alright?” Camille’s smile was wiped from her lips. She felt empathy for Klaus’ wife and, as a friendly person in general, she felt overcome with the need to help solve the complication that made her feel so down in the dumps.

“I’m-” She was ready to say fine, Davina and Cami knew it, but she broke down in tears before she could even shape an “o” with her lips. Both women jumped up immediately and sat in the seats beside Y/n. Though Davina couldn’t stand Klaus, she actually liked Y/n and seeing her hurt sent searing pain into her own heart.

“It’s okay, hun,” Cami wrapped an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, her other hand rubbing her other shoulder and arm comfortingly, “take as long as you need, there’s no pressure, no rush, none of that. We’ve got you.”

And so they did. The two women took turns holding Y/n as she cried, and before long, she was ready to talk. She explained Klaus’ anger and the source of their fight, the source of the fake news he’d lashed out because of. Davina and Cami shared a glance when Aurora was mentioned, both women already hating her but equally despising her even more now. Y/n sobbed, crying into Cami’s shoulder about wanting Klaus to just believe her. She said she loved him and because of that, she felt pained by his lack of belief in her.

“He’s not worth it if he can’t see how wrong that decision was-”

“I know, but he’s my husband. I vowed to love him always and forever, to never leave his side, and I intend to keep that vow...so long as he doesn’t do anything to fuck it up any more than he already has.”

The sun began to sink into the dark, not fully quite yet, but still creating it’s beautiful array of colors as a final act before disappearing for the night. About halfway through Y/n’s rant, Cami called Hayley and gave her a summary of what she knew so far. A promise of arriving as soon as she could was returned on Hayley’s end before the line went dead and Cami returned to the table.

Still not entirely after sunset yet, Hayley swung open the door to Rousseau's, catching Davina and Y/n off guard. Despite being the one who called her, Cami stayed seated. Y/n and the witch beside her exchanged confused expressions.

“Are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna tell me what the hell I need to do to Klaus?”

Y/n chuckled softly, wiping away more of the salty tears, before standing and walking over to Hayley, greeting her with a hug. “You don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to-”

“No, trust me, I have to and I want to.” She pulled away and dropped her warm smile, giving Y/n the most serious look she could muster. And as she was Hayley Marshall, it was effortlessly pretty fucking serious. “Now, I want you tell me everything,” the mom voice came out to play, “don’t leave a single detail out. Then, we can discuss what we’re going to do about it.”

“Where is he?”

Rebekah had been informed by the pissed off werewolf and bartender everything that had happened, resulting in her becoming equally upset. She welcomed Hayley inside the gates and nodded her head up the stairs. “I haven’t said anything to him, so you’ll be lucky enough to catch him by surprise.”

The werewolf nodded in understanding before pacing toward the stairs irritability. “Thanks.”

“Make it hurt!” Rebekah’s voice faded away as she walked out the gates, leaving Hayley alone to find Niklaus.

Atop the stairs, she found no sign of anyone whatsoever, but that was only on the outside. If Klaus happened to be inside on of the many rooms, she wouldn’t waste her time searching. Instead, she waited, leaning against the railing and doing a breathing exercise Y/n taught her during one lonely full-moon. 

After minutes of waiting, Klaus finally walked out of a door and started for the stairs. It wasn’t longer than a minute before he stopped in his tracks and realized he’d missed something. He shot a double take in Hayley’s direction, a puzzled expression quickly finding way to his face. It seemed as though he was contemplating whether or not her unexpected appearance was a good thing or a bad thing.

When he seemingly couldn’t make up his mind, staring a few minutes longer, a heavy sigh left her mouth. She was ticked off with him before, but after hearing everything Y/n had to say, she was furious. No, more than furious. The blood boiling rage was incessantly pounding in her head, all she wanted was cause destruction and pain. A rare thing for her.

But now was not the time to lash out, not yet. She inhaled and exhaled, Hayley shifted on her feet and looked around before turning her head to Klaus and beckoned him over to her with a come-hither motion of her index finger.

“What is it?”

She looked at him, flabbergasted that he’d even ask a question as stupid as that, “What is it? What is it, Klaus?” Hayley slapped him, the man doubling back and blinking in astonishment. And not the good kind.

“How dare you lay your hands on me, you-”

“So you’re gonna yell at me now?” She crossed her arms, and unimpressed look resting upon her face. “You know, personally, I think Y/n is better off without you but she’s broken and has been bawling her eyes out nonstop for hours on end, drinking away all the pain that you’ve formed into a stake and shoved into her chest.”

He stopped, fury fleeing his face as he experienced what felt like her words body-slamming into him.

“And guess who’s been there to pick out the splinters?” She poked her finger against her chest over and over again. “Me!” Her eyes never left his, telling him just how sincere about this she really was. “Me! Cami- even Davina!” Hayley threw her hands in the air, emphasizing the shock that came with the information. “Rebekah’s on her way over now, and I’m sure Elijah will see to it that he comforts his sister-in-law as much as he can, but you?”

“I-”

She cut him off, temper still unquenched, thirsty for vengeance. “Let me finish.” She growled. Hayley looked around the room in attempt to calm herself, but it was to no avail.

“You got her into this mess. I just hope you get both of you guys out of it.” She flicked her eyes back to his, giving him her infamous dead eyed glare. “I really hope you do. And you better do it soon. Because I won’t be there to pick the splinters out for you when she realizes she doesn’t need your sorry ass.”

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ out of my league﹫mark lee

out of my league - fitz and the tantrums

pairing : mark x reader (f)

genre : tiny angst, fluff, smut with some plot, bestfriend!mark, college!au, best friends to lovers.

warnings : weed, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, praising.

word count : +4k

synopsis : your best friend Mark Lee tells you all the things he believed, you were always out of his league.

Mark Lee has been in love with the same person for as long as he could remember. It's something he took some time to understand, days to wrap his head around. 

Where do you draw the line between deep friendship, platonic love between friends and a connection running deeper, a love that seeks more than the label "friends" ?

Laying on your bed, his right hand throws a tennis ball in the air, easily catching it while his left hand hold the rolled up paper between two fingers.

It's a shame, the smoke he's blowing out of his lungs is probably sticking to your bed sheets, ones he noticed you washed the moment he dropped his body on your bed.

Soft rose fragrance, traces of an exotic fruit he can not pin point, though Mark is sure he could recognise the perfume of your detergent between thousands of others.

Heavy sigh, smoke escaping his lips like a dragon dissolving in the air, heavy eyelids closing in front of his brown irises. He really should stop smoking, Mark thinks. It's a black hole in his wallet, it is not that good for his health and fuck, does it makes his mind wonder.

Correction, Mark should stop smoking around you. Because, whenever he does, his mind might search in the deepest, darkest folds of his brain for a new topic, he'll always, forever, come back to you.

Mark Lee has been in love with you for as long as he can remember.

It's something he's been aware of for some years now. It's crazy how he can pinpoint the moment his mind clicked, the moment he put two and two together. He can still visualise the moment his heart went from a friendship he'd die for to a love he'd die for, one so strong he, himself, was dumbfounded by his years long blindness. 

It happened right before prom, second to last year of high school. Mark Lee remembers when you stepped out of your father's car (he doesn't trust any other boy but Mark, he insisted on driving you to your school's dance).

Pretty deep blue dress, it's his favourite colour on his favourite person. You did not do anything special to your hair, only added a bit more makeup. Though, it's not your appearance that made everything click, you've always been pretty, it wasn't the first time your friend noticed.

Rather, it's when your date shows up. It's when one of the school's popular kid shows up and makes you dance that he understands. He wants it to be him so bad. He wants to make you twirl, he wants to make you laugh.

Mark understands it isn't just him being mad that you're not answering your phone, it's love. Jealousy, green monster eating away at his heart when he wonders if you're still with him, it's a hand tightly wrapping around the muscle when he wonders if you're going to fall into someone else's arms.

Mark remembers it, it was five years ago. Late summer night where he stayed on his phone for too long, love sick kid scrolling through pictures and pictures of his prom waiting for a text from his best friend.

He didn't say anything, maybe Mark was a bit of a coward, and you were out of his league.

“Mark ?”

From all the things you best friend loves about you, if he had to pick, it'd be the way you say his name. No matter the intonation, no matter the context, the men loves the way it sounds coming out of your lips.

He thinks he won't ever get enough of it, it's intoxicating, makes him think he has the prettiest name after your own. 

Eyelids slowly open, tired smile stretching his lips. You're steading in front of your bed, freshly showered, hand turning your small projector on. 

“Hm ?”, he doesn't bother answering with words, humming softly. His head turns to the side, following your movements around the bedroom he knows like the back of his hand.

“This one or...That one ?”, you ask, playing with your remote to show your best friend two animation movies you both saw too many times.

“First one.” You've noticed over time, his voice always gets deeper when he smokes, brown eyes always get a shade darker. 

“Alright, baby chose.”

Ah, correction. If there's one thing that Mark loves, it's the pet names you give him. So natural, honey filled, he wished you meant them. 

Baby, babe, darling. He loves it all, he wants it all, he wants you all. 

Unaware of his thoughts, you finally crawl up next to him, the shirt you're wearing as your pyjamas riding up, Mark takes another hit at that. 

Familiar sound of Netflix resonates in your room as you take yet another remote and turn your lights off, before gesturing towards your friend. You're not an avide smoker but, you infale the smoke a few times before giving the rolled up paper back to the brunette. 

Mark knows what's about to happen, whenever your movie night has a bit of green, the movie gets long lost behind while you two would rather speak about anything and everything. After years of friendship, you'd think you two would've took and turned every subject under the pale moon but, Mark definitely did not expect this. 

Hands free, he crushes the cigarette on the special painted bowl you have for him, Mark also loves the way you have some things for him on your house as if he lives with you. 

Your right hand is quick to find his left hand, an old habit your have. Your fingers stretch against his own, comparing sizes like kids flirting, swinging your hands from left to right. Your arm easily gets tired by holding your hand up in the air like this, but the warmth of Mark's hand and the way his fingertips rough by his guitar strings brush against your palm every now and then feels like home. 

“How do you know when you're in love ?”, your voice's soft, mindlessly humming to the song in the animation movie Mark chose. Is that the topic you decided to bring up...? Mark's hand stays still for a moment, following your own hand's movement as he thinks for a while. 

“Don't give me that “You just know” bullshit.”, you mumble when he stays quiet for a bit too long. 

“But I think you do, just know. I think it's different for everyone.”, he starts, speech slightly altered by the green herb intoxicating his mind. 

“How is it... For you ?”, you ask. See, you know Mark had some crushes here and there, but you don't think he has ever been in love or, at least, he never told you. 

“It's... Loving the way they say your name, wanting to be with them as much as possible. It's... Craving to be as close as possible.” and unconsciously, his fingers wrap around yours. 

“It's finding happiness in their joy, sharing their sadness. It's small things like memorising the perfume they wear and what food they dislike.”

The brunette stays quiet for a moment, heavy eyes look upon your locked hands in the darkness, chest light, mind foggy. 

“It's them feeling like home.”, he finally says. 

Mark smiles to himself, you do feel like home, you make everything feel like home. From the way you have a pillow and the way you keep a toothbrush for him, to the way you always feel so warm and safe. 

Thankfully for you, the lack of light hides the small blush creeping on your cheeks. 

Mark doesn't know, you've been in love with him for years, though you've been aware for a bit longer. His confession takes your breathe away with a heavy sigh, you squeeze his hand. 

“I was in love with you.”

Was, you take the safe route as the words fly out of your mouth before you can even understand. Even if he's shocked, you can play the past card. 

“I was in love with you too.”, silence doesn't last long as Mark let's out as well, eyes on the movie even though he isn't paying any attention : his favourite line just played and he didn't even let a giggle out. 

The words make your ears ring, skin burn red, heart beat against your ribcage. He was too...? He was. He isn't anymore. 

“Why didn't you tell me ?”, you breath out, turning to the side. You use an elbow to support your body, you dare look at your best friend's face. 

It's crazy how he still have the still has the same baby face you've always known, the same pretty eyes and the same smile, his jaw got sharper with years and voice deeper and yet, he's still the same. He's home. 

Mark, him, doesn't dare look at you for a second. Before he does, soft eyes looking directly into yours. Why didn't he tell you ? He knows why, he has a list of reasons why and another list of reasons why he should've told you he'd rather not think about right in this moment. 

“You're out of my league.”, he breathes out. You can read your best friend like a book, you know he is not joking when he tells you so. And yet, you can't wrap your head around the idea. 

“I— What, no !”, you're almost whispering and screaming at him at the same time, getting up to sit on your knees. He was out of your league, he has always been, you never—.

“You were—. You are out of mine.”, you tell him, almost dumbfounded. For a split second, it feels like someone's finally giving you the dream you've always wanted and, the moment it touches your hands, it slips through your fingers. 

Can you be nostalgic of something you've never even experienced ? And yet, your mind grabs onto a single thing. Present tense, you're still out of his league, he still thinks so. 

In his semi-high state, the brunette chuckles out, as dumbfounded. 

You wonder if there are feelings still unknown to humans because this, the pull you're feeling at the strings of your heart and the lump in your throat combined to the angering heat taking over your body aren't emotions you're used to feeling at the same time. 

“Hey, what's wrong ?”, your best friend asks, an arm wrapping around your neck to pull you closer. You're sure it's supposed to be for hug, one you'd happily accept if you weren't in this very situation. Both forearms stop your body from colliding against his, Mark frowns. 

In another situation, he'd be able to read you like an open book and, maybe he's thankful he isn't completely sober right now. If he wasn't slightly high, he'd be as red. 

“Are you...Are you still in love with me ?”, you ask. It's almost a whisper, one Mark is sure he would've caught if it wasn't for the almost silent scene going on in the long forgotten movie. 

Is he still in love with you ? Yes. His mind screams a loud, obnoxious yes. His body screams another loud and obnoxious yes and yet. Yet, Mark stays silent for what feels like minutes. He knows he is, he's sure of it, he doesn't know if he should say it. 

Yes, yes, yes. 

“Yeah.”

To be in love with your best friend, to confess your love after years, decades, even. 

Such a simple word and yet, it hangs in the air, you can almost make it out in the slight darkness of the room. When Mark has the ability to put words on how he feels, you can't put anything on what goes on in your brain and body when he says the simple truth. You think your heart might fall out right into your best friend's hand, if he did not already have it. Your mind twist the word again and again just to find a fault, a break, a rupture. 

There isn't none, he's in love with you. 

There's another few seconds where you stay silent. You decide actions speak louder than words. Where Mark pulled you into a hug, you pull him into a kiss you've been craving for years. 

Carnal need sleeping deep in both your minds, it doesn't need much to be awakened, burning a fire louder than hell's. Your lips touch his. Its shy, hesitant but, when Mark's arm tighten around your neck, no words need to be spoken. 

The sweet, innocent, childlike kiss turns desperate in matter of seconds. Your best friend pulls you closer, closer, closer. He catches your leg between his, pushes your chest against his to the point where you can feel his heart hammering.

Lips move in harmony, common rhythm is quickly found and, you whine the moment he pulls away.

“Tell me.”, he breathes out against your lips, it's a desperate plea for something he had been waiting to hear, something he thought he'd never hear. “Say it.”, it's demanding, greedy. You give in easily.

“I'm in love with you.”

There's a weight pulled out of your chest, you'd chant it again and again if you could. You'd scream in if you could, you'd breathe it against his skin.

The brunette pulls you into a bruising kiss, he pours his soul out, hand cupping the back of your neck.

If this is a dream, Mark is determined to not let it go. Using his body at his advantage, positions are reversed, the brunette quickly towards over you. You switched you could turn the light back on but, the colourful lights of the movie dance against his jawline and shine against his wet lips, you decide your best friend looks like a painter's muse.

“There hasn't been a single day where I haven't thought about you.”, he breathes pretty words against your skin, taking his lips from your mouth to your jaw. It's loving, deep kisses, each to mean something.

“There hasn't been a single day where I haven't thought about being more to you, wished we were more.”

More, more, more. You want more too, you need more too. You refuse to let go now.

“We can be, we can.”, it's frantic. You cup his face with your hands, bringing him closer. “Spent nights thinking about what we could be.”

It makes flowers bloom in his chest, he isn't able to take his lips away from your skin. The tip of his nose digs in your cheek, he inhales deeply. Oh, how he loves the soap you use.

“What did you see ?”, he asks, lips peppering kisses down your neck, hand gripping your shirt. You're quick to pull it up above your hips. First wanting to completely pull it off your body, it seems the brunette isn't patient enough.

His lips leave your neck to your tummy, butterfly kisses here and there until he stops to your panties.

“Us. Together. Living tog—.”

Your sentence's quickly cut off by your best friend, maybe a lot more now, pressing his tongue flat against the fabric of your panties.

If you weren't aware of how wet you were getting, you sure were now.

“Living together, yeah ?”, he asks, bringing his face closer to yours again right after disregarding his shirt somewhere. There's a few seconds where you pose, shamelessly taking in the men's figure. 

Forehead against yours, his digits run along the line of your underwear. He's as nervous as you are, as shaken up as you are yet, you two have never been more certain of one thing that doesn't need to be said anymore.

Mark bites down on his lip, you almost hear tje mechanism in his head twisting and turning to find the right way to ask you.

You beat him at it anyways, nodding as your arms wrap around his neck.

There's one thing you'll never tell him, you spent night dreaming about a future and other were filled with thoughts of his fingers.

The guitar player had pretty hands, even prettier when they wrapped around the neck of his guitar or when he picked as some strings.

“'was too scared to tell you.”, he says and, you'd tell him you know. You know exactly how it feels, the fear of rejection by the one you've know you're entire life. You'd tell him it doesn't matter now that you now if you could. 

His fingers stop you from articulating right, index and middle finger greedily collecting the wetness between your folds, the brunette doesn't wait much longer before pushing two digits in. 

“I—Mark.”, there it is, a moan of his name that intoxicates Mark more than any other drug. Pupils grow wide, ears greedy to hear more. It's him, him managing to make you moan so softly in the dead of the night, him that has you wrapped around his finger. 

“Fuck, say my name again.”, it's another desperate plea, say his name again so he knows it isn't a vivid dream he's going to wake up from, say his name until it's the only thing rolling out of your tongue. 

You easily oblige when he starts moving his fingers, slowly yet, in a way that quickly had you gasping for air.

There's nothing rough in his actions, expect from the way his teeth gaze at the skin of your neck before softly biting down just to sooth to spot with his tongue afterwards. 

It's agonising, like he wants to make sure he maps out your body to remember it perfectly after tonight. His fingers curl and drag against your walls, he remembers how and where. 

His free hand creeps under your raised shirt, quickly finding your chest as his mouth finds your again. 

There, he catches every sweet sound you make like he doesn't want any body else to hear them, tongue tastes yours as they lazily battle. 

“Shit, baby. Just like that, god.”, when you think Mark couldn't get any better, his fingertips brush against a spot that has your hips raising up, slowly rocking against his hand. 

“Right there ?”, you nod frantically as he does it again and again, lazily fingering you whilst he lets your hips grind against his digits. 

“So fucking pretty.”, it's a murmur once he detaches his lips from your own, wet and red by the exchange. 

It's not the first time Mark calls you pretty but at this very moment, it's different. 

His wrist twist the right way just as he's about to pick the pace up and the familiar feeling grows alongside the flower blooming in your chest as Mark whisperes sweet nothings into your ear. 

He can feel it, the way your walls clench around his fingers, it has his cock throbbing in his sweats. Carnal desire to feel you wrapped around him as his fingers speed up until you come undone around them. 

It's a mess of his name and profanities you hope your neighbours aren't hearing. 

“Want more, want you.”, you babble once you come down from your high, sweat collecting around your hairline, chest irregularly raising up and down. 

When Mark seems to take too long to process your words, you take matters into your own hand. 

A moment, Mark struggles to find his words and the other, his back hits the bed with a soft gasp. 

He's quick to raise with his elbows, almost having whiplash when you sit down on his lap after taking off your ruined and soaked panties. 

“Let me help you with that.”, there's a slight shyness in your voice Mark decides he'd die for when your clumsily work on the strings of his grey sweats. 

Unspoken words, soft silence when you look into his eyes and help him push the fabric down his thighs. The air is thick, your heart beats harder and harder, your chest swells when Mark pulls you closer by your hips. 

“I've been in love with you.”, he starts as you raise, lining your core with his hard member, one your eyes lingered on before he opened his mouth. There's a pause, your lips part as to say something when you slowly sit down, but no sound comes from your mouth when Mark's leaking head pushes inside. 

“For so— so fucking long.”, he uses the last bits of air in his lungs to let it out, voice cracking when you sit inch by inch. 

You wonder how you went so long without telling him, telling him you love him feels too good to take it back or ever again. There's a slight part of you wondering where you'd be right now if you told him sooner but you're quick to push it away. 

Both hands cup his face as you bring him closer for a kiss as you fully settle on his lap, though the exchange doesn't last long. There's a beautiful groan coming from the men in front of you just as you moan out from the sensitivity, the fulness. 

Mark's red lips fall open the moment you start moving up and down on him, eyes rolling back the slightest bit like he forces himself to look at you as you ride him. But, when his groans turn into moans, the brunette hides his face in the crook of your neck, arms tightly wrapping around your waist. 

You don't think your can be any closer, chest against chest, your mouth to his ear as he mumbles about how you were made for him. 

Up and down, up and down, your legs start burning but you keep moving on top. 

“Fuck, I love you.”, it slips out when his hips meet yours halfway, not that you can say it, you swear you won't stop doing it at any given occasion. 

Mark answers my sucking on your neck, probably drawing blood as he more boldly snaps his hips against yours. 

You find the same desperation as when he was kissing you, carnal need wanting to be met, he fucks into you just like he means it, switching between deep and slow to fast and short snaps. 

For the second time, you feel it tighten, knot threatening to burst at any moment. If you aren't moaning, your mouth hands silently open and thankfully, Mark can tell you're getting close by the way you're clenching around him. 

“You're doing so good, so so good for me.”, voice almost unrecognisable, the way you can feel every vein and the way he pulse tells you he's as close, if not more.

“Come with me.” 

After years of tuning your body to his voice, it follows the command almost immediately, there's a few seconds where the brunette snaps his hips, slowly, deeply, right before letting a draw out moan against your neck. 

It's the last thing you hear, the way he moans you name breathlessly against your skin before you follow right behind, coming right around him like he hoped so. 

Moans and body against body sound abruptly stop for heavy breathing and soft whines, you blink a few times, forehead against Mark's baked shoulder. 

He smells like the apple shampoo he almost wears, he feels like home when his arms tightly wrap around your body and rock from side to side, almost lolling you to sleep. He feels safe, familiar, comfortable. 

And, right before you fall deep into sleep, you hear him slightly chuckle at his second favourite movie line. 

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[retrievablememories]

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

--

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app. 

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :) 

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos 

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

--

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take. 

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” 

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...” 

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human. 

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards. 

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

--

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

--

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

���I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

--

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway. 

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust. 

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button. 

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

[knjoodles]

sallang; taehyung | 01

pairing: singlefather!taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

recommended song: come on get higher by matt nathanson

word count: 2K

warnings/author’s note: this first chapter is slightly suggestive. nothing that i’d consider smut-worthy, but a warning never hurts! i’m also starting this as a mini-series, with short chapters and an overall short story. glad to be back!

summary: handsome, intelligent, fashionably late: taehyung seems to be a total package, and you’re all for it. that is, until his rain-checks and delayed appearances become so frequent that you feel left in the dark. what could he possibly be hiding?

sallang - a word describing the manner of the wind blowing lightly.

lowercase intended

this is a major waste of my time is what you thought as you rhythmically tapped your fingers against the clothed wooden table of a local restaurant, your knee bouncing impatiently against the floor, your free hand holding your head, glancing around in pure boredom. with how much time you’d spent staring at the wall beside you, you’d probably noted every color its paint compiled. it was your first date with a man from tinder who you realized was way out of your league — and you began to fear that he realized it way before you did.

snaking your phone from your back pocket, leg still bouncing, a deep sigh escaping your lips, you opened his profile once again. “kim taehyung, twenty-five, huh?” you filed through his tab once again, mumbling as you read. “likes reading, going to the beach… do you like being late, too?” you hissed, “because, from the looks of it, its like you get off on—”

“excuse me?”  

your thoughts of innermost annoyance suddenly subsided at the sound of a deep, masculine voice from above you. your head darted upwards to find none other than kim taehyung standing in black slacks with a complementary white shirt to match, his chest rising and falling, almost like he’d run to your date. “are you (y/n)? i’m taehyung… from tinder?” his eyebrow pricked up as he finished his sentence, an embarrassed smile cracking across his face. you stared at him for a moment, taking in the man standing before you. (y/n)? upset at kim taehyung? never. seeing him in person, you’d almost completely forgotten you were irritated.  

“yeah, that’s me. have a seat,” you smiled awkwardly, chuckling softly. you watched as taehyung hooked his casual blazer, previously wrung lazily around his arm, onto his chair. he sat down quietly, moving his seat closer to the table, adjusting his glasses and jet black hair. a moment of silence fell between the two of you, taehyung picking up his menu to appear preoccupied in the dinner menu. you smiled to yourself, catching glimpses of his eyes blinking rapidly as he excitedly scanned the text, a habit that’d already made itself known. you began to notice how he’d glance up at you every so often, chewing his lip, flustered, almost as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words to do it.

“i’m sorry for being so late,” he admit, sighing. “i had something to take care of earlier, and it took a lot longer than i’d hoped,” he set his menu down, toying with its edge with his finger. “i...” he paused, “i apologize. i know it must’ve been inconvenient for you.” you took this moment to eye taehyung's hands, slender and dainty, his fingers long and adequate.  

you laughed at his slightly frantic tone. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. you’re here now, right? let’s focus on that. you wanna tell me a little more about yourself, ot should i go first?” you assured, smiling comfortingly. “your bio only tells me so much.”

“uh, okay!” he nodded, resting his hands on the table. “well, i’m taehyung, i recently received my bachelor’s and i’m aiming for a phd in english, i don’t care for coffee all that much, i love pretty much all animals you can find, and… i’m 5’11".” he introduced himself with detail as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, pulling them up to only reach past his elbows. “how about you?”

“oh, my turn?” you questioned, earning a giggle from the man facing you. “i guess it’s only fair. i’m (y/n), i’m pursuing law as of now, we can lay low on coffee if you’d like — i don’t really mind. i like going on simple dates, i love music recommendations, i love musicians, and i’m significantly shorter without these heels on.” you finished, content that either taehyung had a really bad sense of humor or that your finishing line made a better impression than you’d thought it ever could. 

“does this fulfill your requirement of a simple date?” taehyung inquired playfully, lightly patting the table.

“it does,” you replied, tone flirtatious. you noticed taehyung eyebrow raise and jaw tighten at your response as he cracked a smirk, entertained at the shift in energy. that look jumbled your insides, but there was no time for that. you expelled those thoughts from your mind as you cleared your throat, silently scolding yourself. your moment was interrupted by a waitress, the same one who’d pitifully watched you poke at the complimentary sourdough bread slices with an empty seat in front of you. offering to kindly take your menus and your orders, the two of you obliged. as she scurried away from your table, a notepad with messy handwriting scribbled across it dangling from her waist apron, you turned back to taehyung, whose eyes were glued to you, one of his hands caught in his hair as he ran a hand through it. “hey,” he muttered, his voice deep, his eyebrow habitually twitching upwards once more. was he trying to make you unravel in the middle of your date?

“oh my god,” you laughed, trying to shake off how flustered you were. “you can’t just do that and expect me to be okay!” you joked.

“do what?” he chuckled in return. “the deep voice? i can’t control that; it just happens sometimes,” he smiled at his lap, looking back up at you soon after. “you said you were interested in musicians?”

“i mean, it’s not a necessity, but yeah, i find musicians especially interesting.” you explained, reaching for your glass of cold water, ice half melted.  

“i don’t want to brag, but when i was in high school, i was in a band.” he grinned as your jaw dropped. your mind raced with thoughts of how flawless he was, from how well he dressed to how every secret of his made him ten times more attractive. “it was just seven of us, seven of my friends. some would rap, some would sing. i was a singer, and i was really invested in the group. after we all graduated, the group kind of fell out, but we’re all still friends. cool, huh? i would play a little bit of everything, from piano to guitar. more piano, though.” he added, tilting his glass of water towards you, his attractive grin infectious.  

“that’s crazy,” you gasped, leaning forward in your chair. “ever thought of getting the band back together? you’ve got the looks!”

“the looks?” he repeated, laughing excitedly. “you’re giving me too much credit here, (y/n),”

“i don’t think you’re giving yourself enough,” you replied, raising your eyebrows, challenging his humble temperament.  

the two of you dined contentedly, taehyung's charismatic personality and contagious smile catching you every time. the conversation, surprisingly, were never boring, they flowed into one another the way good friends converse after not seeing each other for a long time. his mannerisms and aura struck you as welcoming and comforting, as if he was a bright, warm light you wanted to step into. he was safety embodied, he was a simple, gentle man, with kindness and love pouring out of his soul. to your multiple objections, taehyung covered the bill, still feeling guilty over arriving late. a part of you inexplicably pitied him; you felt as though you should’ve at least pitched in half. it may have just been your morals being challenged, but you almost felt obligated to pay him back.  

dusting off his trousers, taehyung arose from his chair, your date coming to a close. a wave of childish frustration fell over you: you didn’t want it to end, not yet! to your surprise, he glided to your side of the table, chivalrously offering his hand to help you up. you smiled and took his hand graciously, his endless good-natured acts perplexing you. who was this guy? other than being late, was there really a flaw?

as you arose from your seat, you decided the answer to the latter question was no. this was absolutely the best date you’d ever been on: he wasn’t obnoxious, he wasn’t boisterous, he didn’t ask you for anything afterwards… you’d been with your fair share of unforgettably horrible men. taehyung was different, though: it wasn’t that he was just more decent than the men you’d previously gone out with, it was his aura, his persona, it was something above physicality that made you fall for him more than you thought you should.  

“thank you for the lunch,” you smiled graciously as he accompanied you out of the restaurant, opening the door for you as well. “this was really enjoyable! i hope we can do this again soon.”

“me too! thank you for being so nice to me despite me being late.” he returned your kind grin before grasping for his buzzing phone in his pocket, pulling it out to check an apparent text. “i, uh…” he swallowed, now visibly anxious. “would you like me to walk you to your car?” his tone completely different from his physical state.  

“i’m just over there!” you motioned to your car, stammering, confused by his sudden shift in energy. “if you have something important to get to, you go ahead!” he relaxed slightly, thanking you kindly and pulling you into a warm embrace. it felt shocking, but not in a bad way — his very intimidatingly handsome appearance contrasted with how gentle he had been with you. should you have liked him this much on the first date alone?

“i’ll see you soon! i can text you my number on tinder later. thank you again!” he jogged backwards, still making eye contact before he finished his statement, where he then turned completely and began dashing towards his car. you found him charming and funny and it made you smile.  

spinning on your heel to walk towards your car, you spun the chain of your car keys on your finger, the thought of taehyung still with you. he’d been perfect: good-hearted, humble, witty… you could go on. you sat quietly in the front seat of your car, thumbing the leather of your steering wheel. part of this felt very suspicious — how could someone be this perfect? how could someone be this enjoyable, this wonderful, this considerate? you didn’t want to feel this way about him as he felt wholly genuine, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling of possibly being lied to. was he messing with you? he absolutely could be. what would you know?

you'd thought yourself into a corner. suddenly, you felt very bad, sitting alone in your car in a silent parking lot. you closed your eyes tightly and sighed loudly, trying to expel as much upset as you could from your body. you’d just had an amazing date! you shouldn’t be feeling this bad afterwards. taking a moment to collect yourself once more, you started your car, dusting yourself off before driving yourself home, the scent of taehyung’s faint cologne lingering in your mind.

i missed u guys :}. enjoy this piece from me!

[starlightshadowsworld]

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :)  )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you." 

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm. 

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father. 

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite. 

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him. 

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already. 

For Percy though, this was the end of the line. 

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur. 

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement. 

Percy. 

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet. 

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling. 

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of  cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly. 

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would. 

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that. 

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with. 

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life. 

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could. 

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.” 

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could. 

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.” 

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working. 

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the  transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from. 

The Ministry. 

“We’re going...now” said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond. 

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand. 

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said. 

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind. 

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen. 

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that. 

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again. 

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again.