#like how he felt he could read light's mind and yet still constantly be caught off-guard/threatened by him too... crack for L basically

[13eyond13]

Hello, love your blog! Ty for sharing your thoughts with the world ☺️ I was wondering what your thoughts were on L being romantically interested in someone. What would draw him in? I think it would be a kind person who makes him feel safe and relaxed. I wonder about the build-up. I think he would fall first and, once he figured his feelings out, he'd experiment to make sure it wasn't just one sided. Though I suppose I see L as having a softer core than one expect, given his manipulative and cynical ways.

Hi there! Thanks so much, that's sweet of you! I took a little while to answer this because I feel like we likely have fairly different takes on L's preferences, or on how we most enjoy seeing him characterized in shippy stuff. And I don't mean my personal take to be invalidating of yours in any way, because I think he's a character that can very easily be interpreted in many different ways that are all plausible based on what we really know about him for sure in the canon storyline! He's pretty ambiguous and mysterious, and much of what he says and does is intentionally left a question mark. I could definitely see him admiring and appreciating a kind and soothing person and wanting to keep them in his orbit because of that, and doing and saying slightly roundabout things to either test out their interest in him in return or let them know what he was feeling about them.

HOWEVER I also personally see L as somebody who, above all else, detests being bored and tied down to something he isn't interested in anymore. I think his restless intellectual curiosity is his most prominent characteristic and his driving force in life... that in combination with his ego and desire to prove himself right and to win at things he finds challenging. As a detective he goes hard and then goes home, moving onto the next thing that catches his eye. So in my imagination if he ever felt like he could answer everything about another person without a shadow of a doubt then he would probably get restless and bored again and feel like it's now time to move on. A person who thinks similarly to him in some way, continuously surprises and entertains him, indulges him and denies him what he wants in basically equal measures, and keep him guessing and chasing them just a little bit somehow even in a committed relationship is somebody that he'd be most attracted to, in my mind.

I tend to like him best shipped with Light, and then after that my next favourite thing is shipping him with the other criminals he chases. Putting him into a softer wholesome and mature relationship with somebody he doesn't have any antagonistic energy with just has never really done much personally for me!

[vsimp]

bitter

pairing: kamisato ayato x f!reader

wc: 3k

genre: angst

summary: where you are in an arranged marriage with him and you rarely ever see him

warning: somewhat traditional housewife roles, negative thoughts

What a cruel fate it was, to fall in love with a man who neither loves or hates you.

To spend long, cold nights alone. A large, indifferent room divided by two separate futons.

You knew that your husband was a busy man. He worked all night, barely resting during the day, and every time you’ve caught glimpse of his office, there was always a huge mess laying around on his desk. But having been married to him for such a long time, you felt that the distance between you two grew longer and longer every day.

In the morning, you would greet him with the biggest smile you could muster. He would greet you back with the same gentle smile everyday. At this point, you knew what his real smile looked like. You don’t recall when the last time he’s ever given you one.

If Miss Ayaka and Thoma were busy, and you dined alone with your husband, the table would be silent. You didn’t know what to say, and he’d also be reading over papers while eating, so you were afraid to disturb him. If the two were present, or if there were any other guests, Ayato would be more active in the conversation, joking lightheartedly and appearing like he was actually enjoying himself.

This man did not treat you unkindly despite having these feelings that lurked in your chest. In fact, it was the opposite. He was a true gentleman every time you interacted with him. He would open the door for you while you two walked together. He would pull out the chair when you wanted to sit. He would hold your hand and escort you to any event, or if you were getting on/off a carriage.

But it was all superficial. It felt like he was forcing himself to do these actions for you. You couldn’t even tell what his intentions are for doing so. You couldn’t tell if he just disliked you, disliked this arranged marriage, or if he just wanted people to see what a loving husband he was, that everything was okay right now even though it really wasn’t.

From touchless nights to meaningless small talk, your heart ached at the thought of everything. You don’t ever recall the last time he’s kissed you on the lips in private. You don’t recall the last time he’s ever opened up to you about the depths of his heart, from the things that scared him the most, to the things that has made him truly happy.

And while you know that a relationship thrives off of communication, you couldn’t help but feel scared. You were scared that the man in front of you would grow even colder, shutting off the depths of his heart forever, pushing you away if you were to ever confront him. Maybe he’d even take it to an extreme and call off the marriage with you, telling you that he never loved you, as this was really only an arrangement between your two families. Maybe he was in love with someone else prior to this marriage, and he has only reserved his heart for them all of these years.

You have seen his darker sides. He doesn’t think that anyone has noticed, but you have. You were always watching him, after all.

A more mischievous side of him existed deep down in there, a certain sly foxiness that could even rival Guuji Yae herself. Sometimes, it would scare you to see that forced smile on his face as if what lingered in his mind were true thoughts darker than what he had initially led on.

But despite his flaws, despite the mask he constantly wore around, you loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. You loved how he cared for people despite them being complete strangers to him. You loved his gentle smile as he holds your hand so tenderly when you accidentally trip. How could a man be so kind, yet so cruel to your heart?

And even as you laid in bed most nights alone, shedding tears as if you were the dark side of the crystal moon longing for the light of the sun, you still loved him regardless.

You were in your futon all alone as of this moment, staring at the ceiling. The room was pitch black and silent, other than the occasional sounds of the residual droplets from the passing rain. Ayato would never let you rest in a room that was cold, so the temperature was heated comfortably, yet you couldn’t help but bundle yourself up under the covers even more.

It was cold without him. You didn’t even realize when the last time he had actually went to bed in this room you both allegedly shared.

But it didn’t matter anyways because his futon laid far away from yours.

Your own husband wouldn’t even come near you when you’re together in the same room. You didn’t know if he just wanted to be respectful as a formality between husband and wife, or if he is repulsed by being in the same vicinity as you, but it hurt regardless.

You sighed as you covered your face with the blanket, trying to get rid of these harboring thoughts. It was no use, no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship with him every single night. He is what plagues your mind at night, like a thorn lodged deep in a fingertip. It was only soon that you will be bleeding out your love for him.

How could you make a scene about all of this anyways? You've seen how hard he works. You knew that everything he did, it was for the sake of protecting his family and home. Who were you to complain about how busy he was? That was another reason why you continued to keep silent. You thought that your worries meant nothing compared to his own.

Your mind was racing a mile per minute, and you knew you weren't able to get any sleep like this. You got up and out of your futon as you decided to go for a stroll around the estate. The guards protected the outside and prevented from anybody from coming in. As long as you walked around inside, there should be no problem with you strolling the corridors, so long as you remained quiet.

Lighting up a candle, you started meandering through the halls, your footsteps nearly silent with no goal or destination in mind. You didn't even realize your feet had automatically taken you to the doors of his office, the same door that you have stared at many times, knowing that your husband was in there, but you had no reason or courage to open. You see the dimly lit light through the translucent paper sheets, and you knew that tonight was going to be another long night with no rest for him.

You sighed, not remembering the last time you had been in his office, and you were about to step away, but the door suddenly slides open rather violently. You flinch in shock because you didn’t expect for anything to happen, as he usually never notices your presence.

"Who is there?" He said in a serious tone, and you were finally greeted by the man who plagued your every thought and dreams. His hand laid on the hilt of his sword, almost as if he was ready to strike down any intruder who was lurking in the shadows. But instead of drawing his sword, he blinked a few times, realizing it was just you who stood there. He instantly let go of the sword and his expression relaxed a bit, although his eyebrows were furrowed slightly to show confusion. "Y/n? What are you doing here? It is almost 2am right now."

His presence stunned you for a second before you snapped out of the current awe-struck daze you were in. It had been quite a while since you've seen his face. He was rarely home anymore, but when he was, he would be holed up in his office. You only ever see him to greet him when he returned back home, and sometimes when he leaves, as he had a habit of sneaking out secretly every so often.

"Oh." You were flustered at this unexpected situation. "I had trouble sleeping, so I decided to go for a walk..."

"Is something troubling you?" He asked in concern. "If it is work-related with the household, then I know Ayaka would be happy to give you a hand.”

"It's not that..." You shook your head. You didn't want him to worry about you, so you tell him a small lie. "It's just one of those nights..."

"I see."

"Have you been faring well?" You then asked him.

He gave you a small, gentle smile, but you have seen this many times. It was one of the masks he wore when he wasn’t telling the truth.

"I've been doing alright," he replied. Anybody would've believed him, as he would never appear disheveled in front of anybody, but from the way his eyes had a slight dark tint underneath them and the mess that apparently was his desk with papers and pens strewn everywhere, you knew that he was far from so. "I was actually looking to take a break soon from my paperwork. Since you probably will be up for a little bit, would you care to join me?"

An invitation from him was rare, and you immediately jumped ship. You nodded. "Let me go prepare some tea."

"Oh, there's no need to do that."

"Nonsense," you gave him a reassuring smile, knowing what he was going to say. He was so considerate as always, not wanting to trouble you. "It will only be a few.”

You start to walk down the hall to head to the kitchen, but you were surprised to hear footsteps behind you. Before you knew it, Ayato was walking beside you, and you could hear your heart thumping in your chest.

"Ayato?" You questioned.

It was dim, as the candle was the only thing that lit the dark halls, so you can barely make out his expression.

"I'll tag along with you then." He said softly, as to not wake anybody else up. "It will be a good change of pace from being stuck in my office all night."

To you, he was so hard to read at times. If he was accompanying you, he surely must have his reasons, as he had never used any of his personal time on you before. He only accompanied you outside when he had a special meeting at an event that required for both spouses to arrive. Those were the only times when he was somewhat affectionate. That was why you were nervous when he decided to come along with you, thinking he had an ulterior motive like he usual does. But a small, small part of you hoped that it was something else; that he wanted to join you because he missed you and just wanted to idly chat.

You stepped into the kitchen and then lit a brighter lantern to illuminate the room using your own candle. But before you could do anything else, you watched as Ayato's hand pushed a portion of your hair aside. You couldn't help but feel your cheeks heat up at the action, your eyes making its way towards him now that you were able to see his face.

He wore a gentle smile on his face as he looked down at you tenderly. A rare expression indeed, you’ve only noted him to give this look to Ayaka. It made your heart hurt a little as it thumped away in your chest, feeling like you could soar to the moon and never come back.

"Your hair was getting close to the flames, so I didn't want it to burn,” he explained.

"Oh..." You didn't know what else you could say. "Thank you..."

With that, you started boiling the kettle of water, your body moving to find tea leaves. Ayato watches on without speaking a word, and you two drift into a somewhat lulling silence.

As you prepared your leaves, Ayato interrupted the silence no sooner than later.

“There’s another event that the Kanjou Commission is hosting,” he said. There it was. He needed you to attend another political event with him. You were once so naive to think that he would actually spend time with you just because he wanted to. You knew he hated small talk and would rather get straight to the point. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind attending it with me.”

Of course you didn’t mind, if it meant that you would be spending more time with him. But even if you did expect for this, you were still disappointed.

“Sure. When will it be?”

“In two months. They’re hosting a party event to discuss upcoming financial plans for the winter.”

You nodded, your hands a little rougher than usual as you crushed up the dried tea leaves in the mortar. Usually you would hide your emotions well, but it definitely showed in the way you pounded at the leaves.

If Ayato had noticed your switch in moods, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he went over to the cabinet to grab two cups for the tea.

“I appreciate it. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

Another blatant lie fueled only by courtesy. He always says this whenever you did a favor for him. If you were to truly ask for a favor, he would have Thoma somehow fulfill it, or he would say that he was too busy to do it himself, and that he would make it up later. He would send a gift, picked out by either Thoma or Ayaka of course, to later apologize for not fulfilling your promise.

And although it has only happened four or five times before you’d stop asking him for favors, knowing that he was too busy to fulfill them, it still left a bitter feeling within you.

You felt that it was selfish for you to feel this way. You knew that he had lost his parents at a young age, having to resume the role as the leader of the Yashiro Commission and head of the Kamisato Clan very early in life. You thought it wasn’t right for you to feel bitter about small things like this. Yet, as you glanced at the man in front of you, who barely looked at you and instead stared at the bright full moon outside, your heart ached at this solemn expression— one that loomed with fatigue and tiredness.

Maybe what you truly longed for was his happiness. Maybe you wanted to share that happiness with him, although you knew it would be a long shot. So long as he was the head of the Yashiro Commission, the leader of the Shuumatsuban, there will always be a distance between you two, as he prioritized things differently from any other typical person. Even though he was in the same room as you right now, as the moon peaked through the small window, the cicadas singing in the distance, he still looked as alone as ever. Like there was an unmeasurable length between you two, and you were too afraid to cross it, in fear that you would never be able to reach him.

The kettle soon starts to heat up, and you take it off the flame to start steeping the tea leaves. A few minutes of silence passed, and you wondered then if he was going to leave immediately after he finished his tea. It was still hot, so you had a couple more minutes left with him, right?

You poured the tea carefully in the cup and then proceeded to hand it over to him.

“It’s hot, so be careful.”

“Thank you,” he smiled at you and graciously accepted the tea. He picked it up to his lips, blowing it a few times as he inhaled the scent. “This smells like a different type of tea than the one you served at the event the other day.”

You remembered that event. You were attending a birthday party for an old couple who were close friends with the Kamisato’s. You brewed that tea with extra care, knowing that Ayato was going to drink it on that very occasion.

“It was truly delicious,” he complimented and you felt your heart soar at his words once more. “I know I never told you this, but it was one of my favorite hot teas.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I smiled, making note to remember that information. “This one that I brewed helps with stress and calms the mind.”

He took a sip once the tea is cooled down a bit more. “I can see how this one can have that effect. It’s a very mild, but calming flavor. It’s a good choice for you to brew this, since it will probably help you sleep.”

Actually, you had brewed it for him, so that he wouldn’t stress so much, but you held your tongue back. Instead, you took a sip of the hot tea, trying to match his pace so that you both could finish at the same time.

“I hope you like it,” you said.

“I do enjoy it quite a bit,” he replied with a small smile on his face. “I will take it to my office and savor it. I appreciate you willing to spend time with me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“I hope you get some sleep soon, and try not to stay awake for too long,” your husband stated. “Please pardon me, I must return to my work.”

You forced out a smile in return, knowing that he had cut his time off with you short on purpose.

“Have a good night, Ayato.”

He gave a small nod as he walked out with the tea in his hand. You waited for the door to fully shut before you leaned on the counter with your back pressed to it.

He didn't even wait to finish the tea before he left. He just went straight to the point, pushing you aside as if your feelings had never mattered to him in the first place.

Your hands gripped the ceramic tea cup tightly. It felt like if you had held it tight enough, it would shatter and break, scalding your skin like the way your husband did just now.

Your tears dripped into the tea, the salty solution messing with the delicate taste of the drink as you sipped it, not wanting anything to go to waste. What was once a calming, smooth taste was now bitter.

So, so bitter.

It was another cruel, lonely night that awaited you.

[umbralaether]

He wants another taste.

Beasts, goblins, and the occasional bandit were fine and well— but every time the scent of her blood hit the air he just wanted another drop of it. That rich, succulent sweetness coating his tongue, the surge of vitality coursing through him… the memory alone is enough to make his mouth water. It was a rush, invigorating, the way he could feel her pulse hammer away in his own body— something still unmatched, seeing as most other creatures he fed from were knocking on death's door soon after.

He thinks of the first time he'd fed from her; how the nightmare had driven him to it. Constantly starved, Cazador made it clear that it was 'eat the rat and be grateful' or suffer. Never in his two hundred years as a spawn did he know what he was missing, never given the freedom to try. If the tadpole let him walk in the sun… maybe it would allow him this small defiance, too.

And it did.

He never expected her to agree, to simply ask that he not kill her in the process. Practical, to the point… and he wasn't about to say no to something he so desperately wanted. If he had been too eager, or hasty, she hadn't complained—even when bruises bloomed the next day where his fangs had been, visible even on her blue-grey skin.

Instead, her gaze when he had pulled away made his insides do a flip; there was no fear or disgust behind those eyes, they were soft, kind. Not even the slightest bit annoyed. Caught off guard, he had made a quick exit. Whatever he felt, it was unfamiliar; much better to ignore it and enjoy his newfound freedom to taste the blood of their enemies, now that he could.

He never liked goblins, nasty enough on the outside to ensure the same quality blood— a dirty, sour tang lingering in the back of the throat. They were better tasting than the bland, watery blood of lesser beasts but not at all preferable. Other humanoids were satisfying yet still lacking something he could not quite place. Was it their fear, their hatred, that made the blood taste…off?

Either way, there was nothing quite as sweet as her.

When they reach the Underdark, he realizes quickly that wildlife is more scarce compared to the surface, and what does live is deadly. He's careful to consume what he can from the foe that befall them, but he knows eventually he'll need a better plan.

Seducing her the first time had worked well enough in a pinch, so why wouldn't it work now?

He waits for her to come to him, flipping through a random book he'd picked up, not really reading the words. The others have already gone to sleep by the time she comes to sit by him at his tent. He can't help but notice the way she glows under the lighting of the local fungi; she's all but radiant, Drow bloodline clearer than ever.

“Here's my little treat, with their cheeks all flushed,” he lets the words drip from his tongue, “You will come to my bed tonight, won't you?”

She blinks, hesitating for a moment, “A little treat, am I?”

It's not an outright refusal, so he pushes further— spinning more web as he tries to entice her, fancy little phrases he's perfected over decades. Say the right thing, and you can convince just about anyone to come to bed with you. He succeeds in breaking her stoic expression, a small smile forming as he tries out line after line. Only the last one causes her face to twitch ever so slightly.

Still, she seeks him out-- a soft caress eagerly welcomed and another night is spent indulging his whims. He tries to enjoy it, wants to enjoy it, yet her question still sticks in his mind. Did these really work on Cazador's targets?

Truth be told, his talents had worked on her. Easily, in fact.

So why did it sting to hear her say it? Was she not his target all along? Had he not done his best to sidle up beside her, not unlike a snake looking for warmth? Was he just what Cazador made him to be?

Was this… all he could be?

He flees from her warm embrace again come morning, the disgust with himself nipping at his heels. He didn’t need her blood, didn’t deserve it offered so sweetly to him. He could get by on his own, never have to face the fondness he now felt for her.

Or so he thought.

If there was one thing he'd learned about the Shadow Cursed Lands was how sparse of life it truly was. There was nothing alive outside the small pockets of safety, and by the time they make it to the Temple of Shar it’s been two nights with almost nothing but undead. He pushes the discomfort aside, knowing worst case scenario he can return to feeding on the many rats he's seen around the place.

The thought alone is enough to make his stomach churn. He’d sooner starve than resort back to the very thing Cazador favored feeding him.

When they break for camp, there's a headache forming along his temples, destined to worsen. It makes him weary, senses dulling. He retires to his tent early, planning to spend the evening meditating on the memory of her blood. It's a masochistic sort of thing, reminding himself of the rich flood of life along his taste-buds, but it passes the time and if it drives him a little mad, who's to know?

He doesn’t anticipate her coming to him so soon, and almost doesn’t hear her ask to come in. He sits up, the ache in his body reasserting itself as her scent fills the air. She sits down beside him, hugging her knees.

For a moment, they only look at each other.

“Darling, what's brought you to me tonight?”

“I’ve noticed how few things are… living around these parts,” She trails off, almost as if she’s uncertain of her next words, “And you haven’t come to feed from me since… the Underdark.”

A pause. She's referring to that night they'd spent together, where he'd left abruptly and with no explanation, even if she doesn't say it aloud.

“That was a few days ago, now,” She’s dancing around her true question, the real reason she’s here.

“I— there’s nothing for you to be concerned about, darling,” he puts on his best performance, “Plenty of rats around here, I'll be fine. Now, is that all you wanted to ask me?”

She frowns, “You know I care about you, right? And I can tell you're making yourself suffer, though I couldn't tell you why.”

Her question hits him square in the chest. It's as if she can see right through him, right to his core. Somehow able to unravel everything he's tried to keep hidden. He keeps his voice steady, even if what he says is a lie, “I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

“I want you to know you don't owe me anything,” She reaches for one of his hands, her grip light as she carefully caresses it, “You feeding from me… it's never been something you've had to earn. It was never transactional, not for me. I do admit the only reason I didn't bring this up again sooner was because you seemed so… upset after the last time.”

Upset only at myself, he thinks. He feels too seen. Suddenly the air around him feels too thick, too hot. He exhales a shaky breath, “I… was never upset with you.”

He sees her relax the slightest bit, “I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do, Astarion. But I also can't sit idly by when I know you haven't fed in days.”

He doesn't know how she can be so certain of herself, how she could be so… thoughtful, “Here I was thinking no one would notice,” Her hand in his is like an anchor, “What gave me away?”

She shifts, clearly embarrassed, “Oh. Well… your ears flush pink when you feed. Most of your skin does, in fact, but the ears are most telling.”

Its not at all what he expected to hear. He clearly wouldn’t know what she means, having no reflection and all, but he's seen the way her own skin flushes at his touch and it can't be all that different.

“I think its… cute.” She murmurs. Her gaze is still as warm as ever, and he can't help but drink in what she says. The compliment cradles him, and he gives in to her unspoken request.

She cares about him.

He moves himself closer, straddling her lap. He'd make sure this time was perfect, despite the hunger— there would be no bruising, no wince of pain when his fangs pierced through. His breath ghosts along her delicate throat, finding her pulse point almost instantly. Cupping the back of her head to keep her in place, he ever so softly presses his lips to her skin.

They groan in unison, when he sinks his teeth in.

The relief is instant. The aching need ebbs away, warmth and satisfaction taking its place. She runs her fingers through his hair, and he shivers with the feeling. He wants to drown in this pleasure, in the very thing that gives him life. Her blood seems to almost…tingle against his tongue, and its then he sees the familiar blue glow of a restoration spell.

“Feed as much as you want, love. I've got you.”

It rises slowly, the realization that this is what he's been chasing all along— that feeling of safety. She never once looked at him like he was a monster, even that first night when he truly had been, almost drawing her life to a close. She had held her end of the bargain all this time, protecting him. He thought he'd had the upper hand in the beginning, weaving her into his web. Instead, she went and turned that all upside down.

He feels dazed. Drunk, even. Another flash of blue as she replenishes her life force a third time. He's never truly fed this much, not on a thinking creature. He lets go, sitting back heavy-eyed. He feels… content, cozy. Blissful, even. It rivals all other pleasures he's had in the past two centuries.

She's looking at him again, with the same soft gaze, “Do you want me to go?”

Too good to him, as always. “You can stay, if you want to.”

“Are you sure?”

The buzzing all along his nerves almost drowns her out as he lays back on his bedroll, “Hmmm, I think so.”

She lays down beside him, sliding her arm under his body to hold him close. He doesn't need sleep, but the drowsiness remains.

For once, he stays.

Inspired by a post I saw from @troublesomemonsters ✨

[fleetingcalypso]

I am very sorry to bother you, but a very sweet prompt fleeted into my mind as I prepared myself to come out to my parents, and I'd thought I'd share it in the sheer hope you'd read it, enjoy the thought and perhaps write something based on it, if you're comfortable.

Just imagine, you're very close to Sirius Black (you can choose to which degree, platonically, romantically, interested but not together yet, preferably the last because hehe). You've known for a while you were transgender (FtM) but never had the strength to come out, fearing rejection and alienation from the friend group. Just a sweet little comfort fic because I'm anxious as fuck.

≋ What you're doing is extremely brave, I'm so very proud of you. I wish you the best, friend. Know that whatever goes down, you'll never be judged or rejected here. I'll pray your coming out will be met with love and affection.

≋ Sirius Black x TransMasc!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 2285 words.

≋TW: Dysphoria, Misgendering (not done by Sirius)

Hogwarts seemed intimidating, more than anything. Eleven year old me, sitting in that train, chewing my nails and staring out at the moving scenery, had not the slightest idea that finding friends would be as easy as breathing. At least it is when four troublemakers decide to adopt you into their friend group, barely a week after classes started.

‘The marauders’ they’d call themselves, not so slowly becoming every professor’s nightmare.

They each had something that made them so intriguing. The four of them were attached at the hip, and with me being dragged into their pranks and escapades things only got more entertaining. Even as my house was far away from the castle we studied at, every day I got to spend with them made it feel like I was home, with their jokes and their being able to light up a dull moment with only a couple of words. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter welcomed me in, as one of them.

In the midst of my lowest moments I wondered, would they still accept me if I let my walls down? I sprinkled seeds of the truth here and there: I cut my hair short, I opted for pants instead of the usual skirt, I was at my happiest during winter - when finally I could show off the baggiest of sweaters to conceal the appendages on my chest. It’s not purely a physical discomfort, though. It’s in the little things, small seemingly meaningless moments that no one appears to notice but me. 

People perceive me differently based on how I move even the tiniest of muscles, it is painfully obvious. The boys have never done it, not once, they’ve always treated me as one of them. Never has one of them implied me being weaker, more delicate or called me ‘sweetheart’ in that obnoxious way lots of people do when they’re trying to put me back in my place.

 My head constantly feels underwater with the knowledge that if I were to sit wrong I’d be labeled as a girl, if I walk in a specific way it’ll put attention on my hips, even just standing, unmoving, gives me anxiety. The most insignificant of movements could shoot down the image of me that I want people to see whenever they lay eyes on me.

I feared the worst each time I let my mind tug me into a daydream. Deep down I knew, they’d never turn their back on a friend, but fear nipped at my heels every day. Not only was I hiding who I was from them, but I was lying to their faces about it as well. What hurt me the most, though, was not being able to admit my identity to Sirius.

Sirius Orion Black, he’s been the one that made sure I felt safe around him and the lads. More than once I caught myself being entranced by his words as he let the rest of us know what a nightmare his family life was. He was the total opposite of what his mother wanted him to be, yet that didn’t stop him from being his pure unfiltered self, if anything he enhanced each trait she found disgusting. Sirius wasn’t scared to be his true self, even if it meant going against his blood.

It sparked something in me. My heart has been his, for a long time now.

Sirius, with his raven locks, smooth skin and ever present smirk on his face is the one and only subject of all my dreams. He constantly looks as though he knows everyone’s secrets. The thought makes my stomach twist. When I awake, with the moon still high up in the sky, I almost turn to the pillow beside me, to take a peek at him, they’re that realistic. 

At any rate, if there’s someone that I feel should be the one to know the true me, it is him. I contemplated asking all four of them to meet me, but I don’t think I could rip the bandaid that easily. I want to talk to the one who knows -somewhat- how it feels to have expectations placed on oneself, the one who knows that being someone you’re not is more painful than the Crucio curse itself. Of course our situations are oceans apart: he doesn’t deal with having the need to hide certain parts of my body, or with the numerous wailing moments caused by being born in the wrong body, but I think he'd be the first one to accept me.

I had a whole speech prepared, a letter pages and pages long that I was going to give him, so he could read it without my presence, but as I hear his footsteps approaching me, I can imagine him already. His wand resting behind his ear and tie loosened, hands comfortably and nonchalantly situated in the pockets of his jeans with his luscious hair possibly styled into a bun.

“You’ve been rather gloomy lately, mate.” His foot taps my leg, before he lowers himself to sit next to me. We’ve always enjoyed sitting in the astronomy tower together, in the short span of time between a prank or two. Here, we don’t have to worry about being something else, we’re just humans admiring the stars. In hindsight, I should have figured out he knew I’d be hiding out here, as for my ‘being gloomy’, well, I thought I’d done a good job pretending. Apparently not. It makes me wonder if he’s seen through all of my white lies.

“You know how it is, life is hard.” I turn to him, expecting a silly joke like ‘Life is hard, but I’m harder’, something stupid to cheer me up as he usually does, but said joke never makes it into reality. He’s not even smiling, his lip is caught between his teeth in a clearly troubled look, it doesn’t suit him. No trace of a bun holding his luscious hair in place, what a shame.

“Are you okay though?” He whispers, even if we are the only beating hearts in the room and the sincerity in his voice almost brings me to tears. “I mean it when I say you haven’t been yourself lately.” I haven’t fully been myself for ages, but he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. I’ve been everything but myself. Oh, how many times have I hoped I could just rip my chest apart and rid myself of this body that doesn’t belong to me, before emerging from the depth of it as the man I know I am.

My tongue is threatening me to run faster than my mind. ‘I’m a man’ I want to shout, ‘I have always been a man, from the moment I was born, and I hope you can accept me for what I am.’ It sounds so easy in my head, which is why I hate it more than anything when my throat dries up as soon as I part my lips. His gaze falls to them, but it comes back up to meet my eyes when only a sigh escapes from them.

In being faced with my hesitation he speaks again, a subtle comforting smile on his face, “Hey, I’m not holding you hostage. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t feel like it.” His elbow meeting my side in a gentle shove sends my heart ablaze, it is just a simple touch, not even skin on skin, yet it makes my entire body warm up.

“If one day you woke up and saw that you were trapped in a cage, what would you do?” I tentatively ask, testing the waters of the ocean I know I am going to dive in today. My question causes a corner of his lips to tilt upwards, “I’d pick the lock,” He says, as if the solution would be that easy. I foolishly hope it was.

“What if there is no lock to pick? What if you could escape it, but you’d have to face one of the biggest fears in your life in order to do so?” 

His answer, before I can even finish the last syllable, “I’d do it. If it means freedom, I’d do anything. You know it.” His hand rests on my shoulder, I can feel his thumb pressing into my muscles, more than anything I want to hug him and confess my reality with my face hidden in his neck. But I don’t. I’m tired of hiding. My life has turned into a twisted version of hide and seek, where I’m both the seeker and the one hiding. I seek a day where I won’t have to hold back anymore, a day where I’ll be able to use a masculine pronoun without expecting weird looks towards me, yet I hide away in the darkness, afraid of the future, afraid of losing everything I’ve built so far. 

I’ve built mansions, cathedrals, palaces with precarious foundations and I think the time has come to fix that. 

“What’s with all the philosophical talk today? Cages and fears and whatnot. Is it a new idea for a prank? Because if it is you need to hear one James had just a while ago-”

“I’ve been lying to you, Sirius.” I confess with the taste of bile in the back of my throat. The letter I had prepared and read so many times I’d memorized it sits deep in the pockets of my pants, I’m running on no script and no idea of where this conversation will bring us. I have no patience to hear what he might say, so I don’t even stop to breathe before I speak again.

“I’ve been lying to all of you, even to myself at times. I want to preface this by saying that I understand if this is confusing to you, or if you don’t understand where this is coming from but I am not the girl you boys befriended all those years ago. I’ve never been a girl, not once, but this doesn’t mean I’ve been faking to be your friend. I’m still the friend that helped you get out of detention, I’m still the friend that sent professors down the wrong hallway when they would ask for you mid prank preparation, I’m still the friend that would do your essays for you in exchange for part of your food at lunch. I’m still your friend, just not the friend you thought you had.” The words flow out like a river overflowing, it is only as I say the last word that I notice the tears rolling down my cheeks, “I’m not a girl,” I say again, my voice cracking in a sob, “I’m a guy.” 

The grip he had on my shoulder tightens for a moment before he lets out the loudest sigh of relief I’ve ever heard, “By Merlin’s beard, you scared me half to death there.” His other hand rests on his chest, most likely trying to relax his beating heart that, if it’s pounding half the speed of mine, then it must be fighting tooth and nail to escape his ribcage. Something halfway through another sigh and a chuckle comes from him as his head shakes, “So, you’re a bloke, huh? Is that what you’re telling me?” 

I nod, swallowing the gulp stuck in my throat, I can’t force myself to make a sound. The arm wrapping itself around my shoulder and pulling me into Sirius takes me by surprise, “You were always one of the lads, mate.” He says, grinning ear to ear, “Thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine this was easy for you…” The weight on my back does not abandon me completely, it is only the tiniest amount lighter. The first step is taken, there is no going back, little by little he’ll be able to uncover all of me. One small step at a time. Now it is no time to let him know how the only things I smelled while brewing amortentia was his cologne, butterbeer and the occasional cigarette. 

I don’t know what else to say, it feels like I just lept from a flying broom awaiting contact with the ground, but the crash never comes, my bones never break and no absurd pain breaks through me. “Thank you for still being here.” I choke out. His thumb runs over the corners of my eyes, the silver rings on his fingers graze my hot skin, “Thank you for telling me.” He repeats, dragging my body closer to his in a warm hug, “I want you to know, telling the others, that’s your choice. I won’t say a word. There’s no rush. I’ll even hold your hand while you do it.”

I melt in his arms. His last remark, as teasing as it was, is enough to pull a smile out of me. “I’ll make sure to let you know whenever I’m ready so you can wash your hands first. Who knows what you’ve touched.”

“Wow, rude much.” Sirius holds me for what feels like a lifetime. They say Hogwarts is the safest place there is, but I think I’ve found a worthy adversary to that claim. We don’t say anything, I said my piece and he listened. That’s all that was important. One day I’m going to have to tell James, Remus and Peter as well, but that can wait for now. The worst is done. 

“Do you feel a little more free now?” He murmurs in my ear, “Has that cage began to feel like something you could escape from?”

“Yes.” And I mean it when I say it. The future looks brighter than it ever has.

[imaginethezeldaverse]

A little Zelink drabble - Tears of the Kingdom Spoilers mentioned!  Also just want to say as a disclaimer I haven’t finished the game yet if this doesn’t feel 100% accurate, my apologies! I just wanted to write something Zelink today lol.

------- Looking down at her cup, Zelda watched the swirls of fresh Hateno milk mix and lighten the original darker hue of her black tea. Milk and two sugars, exactly how she liked it. Her gaze shifted to the window, the sky boundless and blue in its vast stretch across the world. She almost wished she could remember basking in it the way she had.  “Link,” the princess called softly to her knight, who was pouring himself his own cup of tea. He looked up, cerulean hues moving away from the teapot and onto her. Zelda turned toward him wearing an almost wistful, but curious expression.  “What was I like when I was a dragon?”  The hero thought for a moment. So many memories he had of her in her temporarily immortal state. He remembered pulling the Master Sword from her head, the realization of who the Light Dragon truly hitting him square in the heart. Knowing the cost of her sacrifice held like a constant weight on him. He also remembered feeling light as a feather, laying in her golden mane as she traversed the skies; he remembered promising to get her back. Link realized his face must’ve read something sad when Zelda asked, “Not good...?” He straightened up, fixing his face to smile instead, “Big and scaly, that’s for sure.”  Zelda giggled at that, “I’m sure, of course.”  Link sat at the table with her and reached for the sugar, “You were always warm. I’ve ridden the other dragons before to grab scales and stuff, and I mean... they were always,” his eyes wandered as he tried to find his words, “Not cold, I guess - except for Naydra, he’s constantly freezing, but you - you were always pleasantly warm.”  Stirring the sugar in his tea, he continued, “Your scales were always so pretty, they shimmered in the light, just like your mane did...” suddenly his spoon came to a stop. Zelda caught the wisps of sorrow that flashed across his eyes for a split second, “...But your eyes always looked sad. Even though they were this crazy shade of violet and you had these giant golden lashes...there was this sadness in them that I just couldn’t shake seeing.”  Locking eyes with Zelda, Link felt a pang of hurt in his chest, the memory of her transformation still fresh in his mind, “I didn’t like seeing you so sad.”  The princess’s lip trembled at her hero’s softened voice, though her memory failed her of her time as the light dragon, she understood the impact it had on all those involved: especially Link. Without a word, she reached her hand out to cover his, her doleful smile willing to offer him some comfort,  “I’m not sad anymore, Link.”  Like a reflex, he flipped his palm to turn upright, his rougher fingers curling around hers. He took a deep breath, really allowing the warmth of her hand to register with him. Slowly, he matched her smile,  “I hope I can make sure you never are again, princess.” 

[ay0nha]

Relief in Destruction | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: Joel let you explore for a moment. He was begrudgingly curious to know what your touch felt like outside of the unintentional contact when handing you a note or striking his hand. He knew what he should be doing, how he should— would have reacted with anyone else. 

PAIRING: (Boston era) Joel Miller x f!reader (radio worker)

WORD COUNT: 3K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, not much, mentions of alcohol, mutual pining, teaching reader to punch (sort of), angsty, cheesy lines picked up from watching criminal minds lol,  etc. 

A/N:  I’ve been staring at this for too long and started losing the plot lol, so that it doesn’t sit in the drafts without sunlight, here it is! If this is similar to something else you’ve read by me (that’s I may or may not have deleted) not its not...Thanks for my cousin for comparing my reader to radio rebel 😭😭 and to @from-the-clouds​ for constantly listening to my rambling and lack of coherency 💕💕 Enjoy!

The city was dark. The rain tapping inconsistently against the window panes created a prism of light entering the room. You appreciated the rainy nights; they meant work would be slow.

People thought sending coded messages would have more privacy under the guise of the night, as if daylight would curse the carried transmission. There was some truth to that, but the difference was minimal, with FEDRA cracking down as hard as they wanted.

The rain was what people didn’t consider. It was responsible for static, missed communication. Your nightmares lacked fuel those nights; you didn’t have to listen and notate the plot of raiders or slavers. There was no frustrated line pressuring you for a response you had no connection with. It was quiet. Calm.

But you heard the floorboards creak under unknown weight. You were attuned with the family that housed you; their steps were never as cautious. A gun was in the drawer, there just in case. You weren’t convinced it had ammunition as it was nothing more than a paperweight.

Regardless, you held it up as your only form of self-defense.

“Fuck, Joel.”

Air flooded your lungs in relief and recognition. The man entered without care, not even batting an eye at your shallow threat. Joel was coarse, his presence there only out of necessity.

“I need to get somethin’ out.”

“Messages only go out in the morning.” You puffed out the remaining anxiety. “You know that.” There were rules, and you knew he tended to break most. “I don’t play favorites.”

“Tonight you are.” He pulled the map from his pocket. His finger traced a red line just north of the city.

“Bill and Frank?” You threw the gun back in the drawer. The heft made a chill run up your spine at the sudden noise. The idea of being caught with a smuggler, let alone Joel, threatened your plan. “They can handle themselves.”

Joel was obviously agitated, likely due to the blood still fresh on his knuckles. It felt like a threat of its own. He was stubbornly secretive, despite your efforts to pry. But he could hide only so much when you played the middleman.

Joel was a deliberate man, always having a response, but he was struggling with the creeping feeling of desperation. He was trying to find control and only offered a hardened look, jaw moving with thought.

“You thinking of killing me?” Your sarcasm responded to his silence.“C’mon, make it worthwhile…” Joel handled resistance with brute force, but you only looked to sweeten the deal. “...strawberries are coming into season.”

“Fine.” He was reluctant but agreed.

Yet, you couldn’t help but instigate. “Throw in some ration cards.”

“Stop fuckin’ around.” Joel’s frustration had come to a boiling point. “It’s about Tess.”

“Shit, Joel…” You hadn’t meant to make light of the situation, but your tone couldn’t help but carry humor. “Why didn’t you start with that?”

You weren’t always privy to their business, but you noted the uneasiness when either went without the other. Maybe you romanticized their lives or just had a general lack of understanding of the risks involved in smuggling. There was a creative aspect to your work, fantasies of the various messages that created worlds outside your own to exist in, even if only transient.

It helped at times. It helped that you could remove your emotions from it and not get attached to what would be on the receiving end. But a part of you left when the messages did. The frequency of the radio was set as you worked. Joel’s words were to the point; they’ll be waiting for you. He told you Tess would know what it meant, but you weren’t naive to the looming threat.

What if it were too late? What then?

Joel wished you hid your emotions better. Maybe then you could make it in this world. You carved space for yourself the same way the other survivors had. You had to. Sometimes you questioned if you were still human with how you could be bribed into just about anything. That was your law, a rule you could abide by—something comprehensive in a broken world. It was how you had gotten this job, and if you played things right, your way out too.

But you were still human, becoming fond of those you shouldn’t have. Playing favorites. Joel knew the advantage he had. Your ambiguous heart was on your sleeve. What you wanted was clear, even if most of those things fell out of reach.

Bill, and in turn Tess, would receive the message, and Joel seemed satisfied with your work. But he loitered for a moment inspecting the patrolling below. There was something about him breaking curfew that you envied.

You tried to bargain with him once, asking for a favor instead of ration cards.

Take me out. You had practically begged him. You thought the adrenaline of something like that would disrupt your routine in the most delectable way possible. But he refused, ignored the request entirely.

Joel compromised, gathering any empathy to bring you the strawberries Frank had wrapped in parchment. They were meant for him, something to reflect the growing friendship. But Joel passed them along to you. The exchange had nothing to do with his work or yours. It was a silent act, passing them along during another night of a broken curfew.

You had made a witty comment then, but in retrospect, you wished you had thanked him. Maybe if you had, Joel would have brought you along for the next harvest. For now, you settled with the impromptu visits with limited conversation.

“You’re welcome.” You called to him just before he could slip away.

Again, Joel hesitated with you. It was becoming a pattern easily recognizable; his desire to distance himself as if he were supposed to. He looked at you, seeing how relaxed you were. It was charming in a way, but the twinge of anxiety reminded him of the reality. You were an easy mark.

“Use this next time.” Joel tossed the knife from his pocket your way. It was a quick fix to the thoughts of you alone for the rest of the night. “Might actually be able to draw some blood.”

—

Joel didn’t like that you knew where he lived. He wasn’t necessarily hiding, but he preferred visits on his terms. You were sprawled in his favorite armchair, its back toward the window— even the possibility of an intrusion would have irritated him had he thought of it.

“So it was true.” Joel held back a proper greeting once you noticed he’d returned. “You were behind this.”

He lacked originality in his interrogation. You could predict now that every question you’d received concerned confidential information and the hopes of exposing it, just like all the others. They wanted to know how they were crossed and where to find them as if you were the one with the crystal ball.

“You really think it was me?” You prompted him with agitation. “Not the sleazy guy with the ponytail?”

Robert wasn’t smart enough to be behind this but was dumb enough to be a part of it. Joel looked into every one of your words for clues. He knew you would be omitting things intentionally.

You knew something. You held onto it tightly as if you were guilty. Joel wouldn’t be surprised if you were. The shifts at night relieved you of interacting with the more dangerous people of the city. However, your services still attached you to the world that they occupied.

“Did he say something to you?”

“Yeah, sweet nothings...” Part of you hoped to see jealousy cross Joel’s face, but you knew better. You frowned. “...What difference would it make?”

All the difference.

Your remark fell on absent but not deaf ears. He replayed the previous night's events, looking for something he was missing. Joel was double-crossed, not something entirely uncommon, but the tip-off came from the fact that he favored nights spent with you.

They’d shown up looking like any other guys in the city; dirt etched in every wrinkle, exhaustion always their companion, and profit dictating every decision. They treated you like you were his. You caught whispers of how their boss instructed them against marking you, knowing that only begged for the boogeyman to find them.

“Lyin’ doesn’t suit you.” Joel read you well, and you resented the fact.

Deep down, you were worried they’d follow through with their promise of returning. It was why you waited for Joel to return from whatever work he picked up for the day; you couldn’t rely on the off-chance he’d come looking for you a past curfew during your shift.

“They took my knife–your knife.” You sighed, your leg restless to work out any remaining adrenaline. “I’ll replace it.” The promise was weak, but you needed to shift the topic. “What was it worth two–maybe three– ration cards?”

Joel was backlit with the warm lamp, tempted to stay quiet against your misplaced joke. “And what’s that got to do with this?”

“Nothing,” You know your smile was coy, only to fuel Joel’s aggravation, “I’m trying to flirt.”

Everything felt clumsy. You felt out of place, but your feet had led you to his door. His apartment was bare, dust littering the crevices as no one had lived there. There were some remnants of Joel throughout, but nothing you were happy with finding. There were empty bottles and torn newspapers on the windows, and everything you touched felt cold.

“You could have told me.”

“You could have asked.” Your retort felt childish; you just didn’t know what to say anymore. “Look–You can’t be upset.” The claim was flimsy. “I bought you some time.”

They wanted to know where Joel kept his supply. You could have pointed them in the right direction, but your ethics were becoming inverted, polluted by growing attachment. You created a buffer, a slight goose chase, but the bruises below Joel’s eye proved they’d gotten to him in the end.

“You want a thank you? That it?”

Yes. If anyone found out that information was bought off you, everything you had would be compromised.

“I did you a favor.” You began to defend yourself. But you suppressed your vulnerability with something you were selfishly familiar with. “You owe me.”

Joel’s scoff held more humor than intended. Your eyes tracked how he needed a drink to hear what you had in mind. He hadn’t even bothered pouring you a glass as he drank straight from the bottle. The day was long, with too many twists and turns that drained him. Joel was moments from kicking you out.

“Frank wants to meet me.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Joel thought this was another lie, a deception to get him pliable. Yet, the message you got from Frank was clear. I want to meet the rabbit stealing from my garden. It made you nervous that your voyeuristic position was broken, you now the person the message was intended for. But it planted an excitement in your stomach that only Joel could provide a path for.

Another swig, another beat of silence.

“Your poutin’ ain’t gonna change my mind.” Joel waited for you to lunge with anger. However, you sat there as if your heart had been ripped from your chest. “You sold me out and expect a favor  from me.” You were getting sick of him scoffing. “That’ll be the day.”

“You’d rather I’d fend for myself?” You were baiting him; you wanted to fight, knowing it was the only way to get anything close to what you wanted.

“You’ll have to.”

On his nightstand, the bottle full of pills laughed at Joel. It helped with insomnia, but the anxious feeling followed him regardless of the dosage. You weren’t the sole reason he couldn’t shake the dread, but you hadn’t helped either. If there was one thing he could maybe control, it was you. You meant something to him outside of conventional affection. It’s what drew him in just to be burned.

“Stand up.”

“What?” You laughed. His expression had only deepened, one that never left his face and spoke for his exhaustion. “Joel, c’mon—” He wouldn’t repeat himself again. So you decided to entertain the request. “Alright…”

“Alright.” He repeated. He looked afraid to touch you directly. With a booted foot, he tapped at your own. “You need a wider stance than that.” Part of you expected to be thrown across the room. “Stand up straight.”

“I am.” You sighed. Joel was backlit with the warm lamplight, adjusting your stance, still not content with you not taking it seriously. “All this just to fight me?”

Good enough, he thought. With a hand held steady, as if ready for a gun’s recoil, Joel nodded at his palm. “Go on.”

You knew not to tuck your thumb away. The stance you took reflected years of self-defense. But Joel wanted you to learn how to cause damage. You needed to shift your weight to swivel with more intention.

“Are you done proving your point?” You asked. Joel had you repeat your actions until the palm of his hand stung.

“For now.” Joel returned to his bottle. It dwindled, but it had yet to take the desired effect. 

You would have continued if he'd asked. You wanted him to. There wasn’t a reason for you to move closer to him beside your desire. You knew invading his space only meant one of two things; either he’d return the favor of the damage you caused him or do what you’ve been pathetically yearning for. Or the unlucky third option that only involved rejection.

You loved to push your luck.

“I told Frank we’ll set out in a week.” You distracted him from your confession, moving your hands between his shoulder blades. It was a way to get Joel's full attention.

Joel let you explore for a moment. He was begrudgingly curious to know what your touch felt like outside of the unintentional contact when handing you a note or striking his hand. He knew what he should be doing, how he should— would have reacted with anyone else.

But he couldn’t bring himself to touch you in that way.

Joel indulged in every twitch and expression of your body language once he faced you. He hoped it would expose you, but he found nothing but poise. You were enjoying yourself, enjoying being watched by him.

"M’not changing my mind."

“Please, Joel…” You spoke low as if the neighbors would hear. You hadn’t even wanted to hear yourself, knowing your desperation. “...can’t you play favorites for once?”

“That’s a trick question.” His facade had slipped. His response was a second too quick, making a warmth trickle throughout your chest.

Your ears rang at the admission. His words filled the room and stuck like honey.

He was always thinking. Joel was intentional; everything was thought out, and if it wasn’t, he was still level-headed. It wasn’t hard to recognize his behavior patterns; he knew what he was doing. Finally, though, everything became a second thought as you reached him with intent, tilting his chin to expose his neck.

“Easy.”  His warning highlighted his drawl while he caught your wrist.

The grip was loose, allowing your intentions to continue. Joel’s fingertips were warm as you grasped them softly. Before your hand could wrap around his, it was held by one of Joel’s, the maneuver tightening the warm hold he was creating. His skin pricked. Your touch tickled him, but he leaned into it fully. Joel was used to touch hurting or leading to something that hurt.

He didn’t look at you as he turned your hand over in his, focusing instead on your palm as he ran his thumb over the lines of your smoother skin. Joel’s head remained bowed, his face hidden from you. He wanted to carry his affection to the grave without letting it surface. But he couldn’t deny that it was true and slowly killing him.

There’s hesitation on both your part, the shy kind that managed to bring down even the strongest man. Yet, Joel came to realize his mistake.

“Enough of that.” His face hardened into a practiced expression. “Don’t.” His grip was tighter, just shy of hurting you. “I’m not doin’ that.”

Joel had fallen into your trap, misunderstanding your touch as an unorthodox payment to bring you to Frank’s. Everything had to be business with you in his eyes. The decision was already made to bring you despite his resistance, but this solidified that his act of so-called kindness wasn’t for you.

It was for Frank’s sake. At the moment, Joel couldn’t look at you the same, knowing he could only have you like this. His anger blurred your intention; you wanted to bring him closer to confirm your admiration, but it morphed into something it was never meant to be.  That third option snuck up on you, rejection making your heart swell until it sunk into your stomach. You caught a glimpse of tenderness just to be replaced with disgust.

[kylos-starlight]

Contact

Ship: Kylo Ren x Kaden Reese

cw: They fight but no one gets hurt.

words: 1,169 (oh damn shocked myself!)

summary: Something unexpected happens after a heated battle.

In a place where the balance of power constantly shifted, Kylo Ren, known for his strength and allegiance to his own personal causes, found himself wandering the remnants of an ancient temple. The whispers of the past echoed through the ruins, a place where the energies of the universe intertwined in a delicate dance of shadows and light.

As he moved deeper into the labyrinth of stone and secrets, he sensed a presence unlike any other. It was neither engulfed in shadow nor bathed in light but it existed somewhere in between, a perfect balance that seemed impossible.

That's when he saw them, Kaden, standing calmly amidst the ruins, their eyes closed as if listening to the silent music of the cosmos. Kylo felt a tug in his chest, an inexplicable pull towards them and he swallowed thickly. The feeling was intense and it made his heart race. Never has he felt something like this before.

"Who are you?" Kylo demanded, his voice echoing off the ancient walls. He knew but he needed confirmation.

Kylo's hand instinctively went to his side, but he did not draw his weapon. Something about Kaden's presence disarmed him, not physically but emotionally, peeling back layers of anger and conflict he had built around himself. It was off putting in a way, nothing and nobody could achieve such a thing but all this person was doing is just merely existing in his space. He hated it. He inhaled deeply.

Kaden opened their eyes, their gaze following the echoing voice to land on the man now in front of them. "A person of no importance" they replied simply, their voice calm. "And you who are you?"

"It need not matter to you" Kylo retorted, in his own way throwing their words back at them.

"I know who you are. Kylo Ren" Kaden stepped closer, their presence commanding. "So I'll ask. Why are you here?"

Kylo found himself at a loss for words but he didn't show that he was actually a little intimidated by them.

"For you" he finally said, though his conviction wavered.

"Now why would that be..?" Kaden replied, their voice echoing around them, as if the very air carried their words.

"Let me guess.. because you caught wind of a person who could find the perfect balance between dark and light?" Kaden glanced over to him and gasped softly.

"ah- I am sensing hesitation, perhaps you were here to take me by force?"

Kylo felt a shift within him, a crack in the fortress he had built around him, they could read him as easily as a book and he loathed it, never had he met someone like them. He took a step forward.

"How?" The question escaped him before he could hold it back.

"You're conflicted?" Kaden said tilting their head a little, blinking, a man teetering between light and dark as well?"

They took a step forward towards Kylo but he backed up, igniting his lightsaber.

"You're scared"

For a long moment, Kylo remained still, his thoughts clashing like waves against a rocky shore. Then, slowly, he spoke. "You know nothing of me." His voice was hardly above a whisper but it held anger, it was clear that Kaden's words had upset him.

Kaden half smirked "Well, you're not the first to try and get me" Kaden reached behind their back pulling out their own lightsaber. Their eyes never broke from the man in front of them. "Well come on" They ignited their lightsaber and it shined a vibrant purple. "Unless you've changed your mind~"

Kylo made the first move, driven by a desire to test Kaden's rumored skills and a mix of anger. His attacks were fierce, a series of slashes and thrusts that had felled many opponents. Yet Kaden was graceful and precise , their purple blade a blur as they parried and dodged with such agility. The clash of red against purple illuminated the area, a visual of light and shadow.

Kaden, understanding combat as if it were a language, began to weave a counterattack. They used the environment to their advantage, leaping from fallen stones and swirling around Kylo with movements that were as much about art as they were about defense. It was clear that Kaden wasn't just fighting; they were teaching, showing Kylo the depth of skill and understanding that true balance rewarded.

Kylo, fueled by frustration and fascination, increased the intensity of his assault. Yet, for every blow he aimed, Kaden had an answer, their lightsaber meeting his with a clash that sang of metal and might. It was a battle not just of strength but of philosophies, each strike a question, each parry an answer.

As the duel started to reach its ending, Kylo attempted a powerful overhead strike, channeling his anger and determination into a blow that could end any confrontation. Kaden, anticipating this, stepped aside at the last moment, allowing Kylo's momentum to carry him forward. With a swift, elegant motion, Kaden tapped the back of Kylo's knee with the flat of their blade, a move that spoke volumes of their control.

Kylo stumbled, caught off balance, and found himself kneeling on the ground, his lightsaber deactivated by his side, Kaden stood over him a small smirk gracing their features before they powered own their own weapon. There was a moment of silence except for the sound of both of them breathing heavily.

Kaden rounded Kylo and offered a hand to help him up. "Good attempt"

Kylo went to push Kaden's hand away by grabbing their wrist but the moment his hand made contact with them they both froze, a jolt went through them both and they both gasped in unison, eyes staring at one another. A feeling? Memories that have no yet been realized in reality? They saw a future- together? It was fast and only lasted a second.

Kaden quickly pushed Kylo's hand off their wrist and stared down at him in shock. Even though they could anticipate most things the future holds this… this was unforeseen.

Kylo stood to his feet and looked at Kaden. "What was that?" His body had chills and his heart raced in his chest. It all flashed so fast but one thing was for certain.. Kaden was there, next to him.

"You have to leave." Kaden blinked a few times, snapping out of their confused daze.

"I told you I was here for you"

"And you failed! Get out!"

"No"

Kaden snarled, taking one more long look at Kylo before bolting off into the ruins. Kylo was quick to take pursuit of them but unfortunately for him Kaden knew these ruins like the back of their hand and was easily able to evade him.

Kaden panted heavily, doubling over to catch their breath. They grabbed the spot where Kylo had touched, the feeling of his hand on them still felt fresh as if he was still there. "What was that?" They whispered to themselves. They looked back to see if they were still being followed. the fight was intense, then that touch.. those flashes.. a mix of light and laughter and anger and bloodshed.. what did it mean? Kaden had no time to ponder it, they needed a new hiding spot.

No pressure to read right away!

@dragonsmooch || @kylars-princess || @heatobrienswife || @ama-ships || @roboraindrop || @mahitoslittlebird ||

If anyone non-self-ship finds this post I kindly ask you not to interact! Sorry, its the anxiety for me.

[theship-thewalrus]

waking up to you

ser harwin strong x gender netural!reader

what mornings are like with your husband Harwin Strong

word count: 700 words reading time: about 4 minutes warnings: n/a

Some days you felt like the luckiest person in all of Westeros, not because you had wealth or power. But because you had love. Love is something so powerful that can transverse language and space. Love was not something many people got to experience, even fewer people got to marry the person they loved. But you had found love in the form of Harwin Strong, a man that despite his intimidating stature and a lethal nickname was soft and caring. Many times putting you and your needs above everything else in the world.

Amongst all the other people in the world, you had caught his eye and captured his heart. You were beyond surprised when he confessed his love to you. Declaring how he could not stand seeing you with anyone else. How he could not be with anyone but you, because you were constantly on his mind no matter the time of day or what he did to try and stop it. Not long after the pair of you married, proving your love to one another in the eyes of the gods and the world.

The sunlight peaking through your bedroom window lulled you to wake, the light and increasing heat on your skin causing you discomfort. A groan leaves your lips as you turn around, eyes still closed in the hopes you are able to capture just a few more moments of sleep. You didn't expect to hear a deep chuckle from in front of you, causing you to crack your eyes open, just slightly, to see the source of it. A dishevelled Harwin lay in front of you, the man prompted up on his side slightly, soft eyes already looking at you with a smile on his face. Your expression begins to mirror his before you shuffled closer to him, burying your face into his chest, arms and legs wrapping around him as though you were a small sloth.

"Good morning, my love." Harwin's voice was deep and gruff, still full of sleep. Leaning down slightly he placed a kiss on top of your head, causing your smile to widen. "Good morning, my knight," comes your soft reply, moving your head from his chest slightly to come to look up at him. Normally he would be gone, the duties of the Captain of the Gold Cloaks were large and around the clock. But the times he was able to stay with you in the morning, basking in the first light of the day, was something you truly cherished.

"You're here, I thought you would have been gone by now," you said softly, though it was clear you were happy he was here. It was lonely in the mornings at times, eating breakfast and other meals by yourself. But you understood why it had to be that way at times, but it did not stop the loneliness. "Of course, I can't leave you alone all the time." he jests softly, a hand coming from under the blanket to cup your cheek. Leaning into his touch you hum happily, glad you both could have a moment like this. Simply basking in each other's presence, hoping to commit this memory to look back on in times of loneliness.

"The day awaits my love." his voice breaks the small moment, but you were not upset in the slightest. Although a small, playful frown forms on your face, at the mere thought of having to leave this little utopia. The world was cold and cruel but here with him in the warmth of your bed the world was good and safe. Flipping over and away from him you speak to him "I don't wish to see the world just yet. I just want to stay here with you." Humming slightly you feel Harwin shuffle closer to you, before his arms warp around you, pulling you closer. You feel his warm breath on the exposed skin of your ear causing goosebumps to appear all over your body. Giggling softly you shuffle around in his arms, leaning up slightly to kiss him. Breaking a part he grinned a little, his grip on you tightening and hands roaming your body he spoke "I am sure we can stay together for a bit longer."

[carelessflower]

angel for angel

The music blazed around them, people lost in the feel, in their heartbeats, in others. 

"So, spill it." Izzy took another sip of her cocktail. "What's made you suddenly change your mind, dear brother? And to this specific place." She eyed Alec and took in every changing detail on his face. It wasn't that Angel was a bad club, it was quite the opposite. The design took guests from one level of amazement to the other, classy yet sensual, the lights shone like galaxies.

She was very much surprised she hadn't heard of this club before, yet her what-a-party-can't-we-just-stay-home brother did. 

"I just feel like changing the air for a while." Alec tugged on his black shirt's sleeve, probably the tightest piece in his closet. He's made an effort in his appearance overall, the black leather pants that were buried deeper than their mom's wine collection were finally brought to use. Izzy would be impressed with her brother if she didn't catch how he constantly looked at some scene behind him.

"Are you gonna go talk to him or continue acting like a creep?" Of fucking course it was Magnus that got her brother possessed and illogical. Who else?

"I can't, Izzy. He didn't want to see me." Alec looked miserable. Izzy hated it. Hated all of this. She hated that it happened. She hated how she couldn't blame it entirely on Magnus for the breakup, or that he broke her brother's heart. 

Magnus was dancing with somebody, even from a distance, she could feel the energy radiating from him, that spark no one could resist. He was enjoying himself, at least. It had been half a year or so, there was more in life than one's broken heart, Izzy knew that from experience.

She sighed.

Alec needed a distraction, cornering him into a wall would only lead to him closing off again. At least, not today.

"Look at your face, Alec. Raziel, I thought they banned misery at the club. Tell you what, I'll call Jace here, we're gonna get shit-faced, wake up with a joint headache tomorrow and hear Mom complain for three hours. Deal?"

Alec smiled lightly. It wasn't big, but it was a hopeful start. "Deal."

—

Izzy came back to her brother missing. She was nearly at her breaking point.

"Jace, do you feel Alec is in danger?"

"No?" Jace scrunched his eyebrows. "He is warm...and fuzzy? Not quite drunk either, just really excited."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She turned it on and read the most recent notification. I'm leaving. You and Jace have a fun night. Don't worry about me.

Well, that was most definitely the best way to make people stop worrying.

"Should we track him?" Jace was already ready with his stele.

"Let him be," Izzy said. Maybe Alec needed more time for himself. "We'll intervene if he gets caught in trouble."

The next morning came, and Alec still hadn't come back. Despite Jace's attempt at assuring her that Alec was absolutely better than fine and probably the happiest he had been in a while, Izzy felt the need to call him for confirmation.

One long pause. 

Two long pauses.

"Huh— hello? Izzy? Did something happen?"

"No, everything is fine." She paused for a moment. "Where are you Alec? You totally bailed on us last night."

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry. Something came up and hey—" Alec was ...laughing? What the fuck? "Magnus! Stop it! Control yourself, I'm talking—" On the other line, it sounded like the phone had fallen somewhere. Perhaps Magnus's bed. 

She needed some time to take all of this in first.

Alec picked up again, the joy was undeniable in his tone. "Ugh, so sorry for that. My company has no manners." Izzy could practically feel how they were looking at each other right now. 

She calmed herself down. "I don't care when you're coming back. I want a detailed report on whatever went down, or else Church might find new chew toys in your closet. Understood?"

"Fine."

"And tell Magnus I say hi."

"I will—" The line cut off.

"What happened?" Jace asked. "And why you're smiling?"

"Fate finds its way somehow." Izzy rolled her eyes but she knew how happy she was. Magnus left Angel with an angel in his arms. They were so ridiculous.

for @malectober day 1 prompt angel

[lightning24680]

Childe x depressed gn!reader

Hi guys, another WIP of mine that I was struck by motivation to create. I really need to work on my already started pieces of writing but I can’t so here I am with random fics. Hope you enjoy! Also Happy New Years! Lightning24680~

Everything starts with an idea, an emotion. He was your emotion. He was like the ocean rough and cold a never ending deep of mystery and darkness, and yet he was calm too, he could be comforting like the small laps of the water at your heels as you walk across the beach. You never quite understood how you and him clicked. You were unextraordinary and you quite honestly felt as if you contributed nothing to this earth constantly wondering why you bothered. He was the opposite and yet the same. He was always in the rush of battle, a never ending wave of determination and strength, but his dull blue eyes mirrored the self loathing of your own.

When you two first met it wasn’t true love or anything special, hell it wasn’t even unique, but it was still a moment that was yours.

You were a Fontaine citizen, you loved your books and writing more than you’d ever cared for the drama of a trial, and still you were dragged to his. Seeking inspiration and maybe just a tad bit of real excitement instead of the fantasies created in your mind you took a seat in the plush red seats of the Opera Epiclese. At first nothing struck you as interesting it was merely another debate.

And then the murmurs started and your gaze was drawn up to the shock in the Chief Justice’s eyes as he read aloud a sentence that should have been impossible…guilty. Your gaze was immediately taken to him, with his vibrant ginger hair and the expression of an impatient man on his face. Then the flash of purple and the crimson of his mask, his light grey’s and browns traded for pitch black and, stunning purple with the eye catching blood red.

In that moment intrigue spiked in your heart, motivation in your mind, something you thought had been extinguished long ago rising in your brain. You shifted in your seat practically hanging off the edge, as everyone else watched in horror as the Garde Meks were taken down with the electro currents he’d thrown so carelessly yet precisely, you watched with interest.

And when he was taken down and away defeated you watched in awe at the small and tired grin on his lips, he wants more you realized, and so did you.

You were up and on your feet lightly shoving through the crowds and following the guards before you even realized what you were doing, writers instinct, which you’d long supposed to have left you taking over once again. As you finally caught up with the Garde’s you could only stare as they propped him, the fascination of your interest on a chair before walking a few feet away assuming him harmless, you knew he wasn’t.

As you walked towards him curiosity in your eyes and courage in your steps you noticed how he tensed up as if he sensed your footsteps no matter how quiet. His gaze darted up to yours his dull blue eyes making your breath catch in your throat, untold horrors lied behind those eyes you knew. And then his voice, sounding so very dangerously guarded this close, asked those 3 damning words.

Who are you?

I’m Y/n and you are Tartaglia, you had stated calmly a hint of excitement in your voice, he sensed it of course.

It’s Childe, he replied smoothly his tired body poising itself in a seemingly open way, you could see his walls though. He was a good actor, someone who’d learned to put on the masks of a thousand characters never appreciating his own.

Maybe neither are you if we’re being honest you had replied without thinking. His gaze studied you carefully like he wasn’t sure what mask to put on to appease you, so he brushed you off instead.

Maybe…or maybe your reading into it too deep his low voice tumbled out in a sigh of someone still processing the fact they’re no longer free, but a prisoner of a crime uncommitted, and with an audience of people unable to care.

The Garde’s came back too soon leading him away and with a tilt of your head you noticed the familiar gleam of his vision gone. Curious, you muttered to yourself before turning around to grab your book and head back to your home, the motivation to write had struck you like one of his electro bolts. You hadn’t noticed how dull blue eyes glimpsed back at you a lingering feeling of curiosity showing on his small turn of the lips.

Maybe he’d meet you again, the curious sun peeking through the clouded depths of that murky blue. Yes he would see you again he decided, there was something of an urge to know more, and he wasn’t one to ignore.

Curiosity you decided was the emotion he was. He led to excitement and to something new, and you thought to yourself maybe that’s what you want, and instead of waiting for adventure to find you, you should follow him just to see if the wild call of the ocean is enough to satisfy the sun.

[elysianslove]

shameful lust; suna rintarō

synopsis; he’s off limits in every way, but that only makes you want him more. based off of this, this, and this. the smut is inspired by my bunny anon’s birthday idea :) bunny, you know the one :)

pairings; brother’s bsf!suna rintarō x fem!reader

genre; porn with kind of plot lmfao

word count; 5.5k what the fuck??

trigger warning; age gap (not specified, & everyone’s 18+), masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, humiliation, praise, mini panic attack, link for the lingerie (slight nsfw warning)

it started off innocent, as most things do. you were sixteen when you first felt the butterflies nestled deep in your stomach, the drop of your heart, the heat of your cheeks, only around him. you’d thought it was a natural reaction; after all, you’d known suna rintarō since, quite literally, forever, and you were a growing girl, hormones imbalanced and thoughts as confusing as ever. it was normal, completely ordinary to feel as nervous as you did whenever his hand so much brushed against yours, or whenever he’d barely glance your way to offer a small, teasing smile.

it meant nothing, of course. you were just a young girl, sixteen, desperate to lose yourself in some sort of fantasy. a silly crush on your brother’s best friend was nothing strange, and definitely inevitable.

it would go away.

you’re eighteen when the feelings don’t go away, and when they begin reshaping into more— impure thoughts. the more you see of him, the more hyperaware you grow of everything that he is. suddenly your eyes easily find the small strip of skin revealed when he stretches his arms up, and suddenly you can’t help but constantly think about the way he sits, legs spread so wide as if to... accommodate something. suddenly your thoughts always find their way back to the way he’d hugged you goodbye, arms squeezing you so tight to him, allowing you to feel every ridge and ripple of his muscles, and the way he had ruffled your hair and his hand, so large, so easily sinking into the strands— and you’re left wondering what else his fingers could do in your hair, to the rest of your body—

it’s bad. it’s really bad. every day you try and convince yourself it’s innocent, and every night you prove yourself wrong when you find yourself on your stomach, face buried in your pillow and teeth biting down on it, mouth dampening the cloth as your fingers rub harshly at your clit and sink into your dripping cunt— all with his name falling off your tongue as you heave and cry. every night you think about how much thicker his fingers are in comparison to yours, how much longer, how they’d feel inside of you, curling within you. you know he’s dexterous, insanely good with his hands. you’ve seen the way his fingers fly across a keyboard or tap urgently at a gaming console. you know it, and it in no way helps in calming your frustration.

it’s bad, of course, but you live with it. after all, he is in every way off limits. a lot older than you, and much more experienced, suna would have to lose his mind before he ever thinks of you the way you think of him. what would a girl like you have to offer a guy like him anyways? your shaky hands and clumsy mouth? your tight cunt that can barely fit two of your fingers? you’d only leave him unsatisfied, and leave yourself utterly humiliated.

worst of all, however, you can’t imagine how devastated, how betrayed, your brother would be if he’d caught you fooling around with his best friend.

so although you’re yearning to say fuck all and fuck him, you don’t, because it doesn’t make sense in the slightest for you to do so. you continue to make due with what shirtless image of him or that time he slept over and went commando, waking up at the same time you had and his — his dick was hard— you could see—

fuck.

you need to grow up.

as you sit with your back to your headboard, your knees bent up and swinging slightly, two simple knock erupt on your bedroom door. it’s late afternoon, the sun’s brightness dimming slightly, casting your room in an orange glow. in all honesty, it’s soothing.

looking up from your phone momentarily, you call out for the person knocking to come in, your eyes returning to your screen once more.

“hey.”

at the sound of the awfully familiar voice, your head snaps back up and you lock your phone, looking up with newfound excitement at the man standing at your doorway. “hi,” you return with a smile, sitting up and crossing your legs.

suna smiles back, walking into your room with one hand tucked behind his back. “your brother said i’d find you here,” he explains, walking towards you.

you quirk a brow, curiously and amusingly smiling as you ask, “whatcha got there?”

he’s quiet for a moment as he walks over to your side of the bed, maneuvering in a way that doesn’t reveal what he has hidden behind him. you twist around on your bed, leaning on your knees to face him properly, and it’s just when you lift up slightly to settle comfortably that he leans down, bends over to get close enough to whisper, “happy birthday, pretty girl.” he gives you not another moment to process how close his face is — how close his lips are to yours — before the hand behind his back comes around between you.

tucked in his hand is a medium sized bag, not related to any sort of brand, so you assume it’s a simple bag he’d gotten from a convenience store. that would really only mean one thing— that he’s gotten you more than just one gift. you can’t see what’s in it since there are colorful papers stacked within it, obstructing your view, but you’re still flustered at the mere thought he’d even considered to buy you a gift. it’s not unusual; suna, every year on your birthday, has gotten you a gift, yet it’s usually more so a gag gift than anything. some inside joke of yours, maybe he’d pay for your dinner, things like that. never a full on, thought out gift.

“you didn’t have to,” you say, settling back down on your knees and hesitantly taking the bag from him.

he waves you off, disagreeing. “course i did; you’re nineteen now.”

you roll your eyes. “wouldn’t eighteen be more special?”

“fine,” he decides, playfully taking the bag from your grasp and pulling it to him. “guess i’ll just give this to someone else then— maybe your mom—“

“suna!”

at your reaction, he laughs boisterously, and against all odds, you find yourself smiling too. quickly, you reach out for the bag again, pulling it back to you.

“open it when you’re alone,” he disclaims, almost as if in warning.

warily, you eye the bag.

“sure.”

you try to be quieter when unboxing suna’s gift, but the paper’s scrunching is just so damn loud. after cursing it out, you finally rid the bag of its first layer of paper, and are met with a scented candle and some lotion. basic, expected. there‘s a card there too, and when you open it, there’s a note in his messy handwriting, reading out a simple happy birthday— and a good couple of yens too. money, a candle, lotion.

so basic.

there’s still more paper beneath, but you don’t expect it to be for anything except decoration, not for—

what the fuck.

what the fuck.

What The Fuck?

your two hands dip into the bag, reaching out for the final gift, grabbing it by its straps and—

holy shit, he got you lingerie.

it’s so— sheer? you don’t think an inch of you will be properly covered, even with the lingerie on. it’s properly transparent, with only the intricate lace designs to modestly cover you. when you dig into the bag, you find the panties to match the bra and— well, it’s pretty, you can’t lie. there are dark, almost flowerlike designs all over, and it’s a deep black, nearly blue or green. there’s also a garter belt, but there aren’t any stockings in the bag to attach to the clips. maybe he’d expected you to take care of that?— ah no, you stand corrected. there are stockings.

fuck, he thought of everything didn’t he?

but more importantly, what the fuck does all of this mean?

burying the lingerie deep inside the bag again, and making sure to cover it up with the paper, thoroughly, you place the other gifts and the card back in and on top, before putting it aside on your bed.

and now, to gather your fucking thoughts.

you had to text him to thank him for the gift, obviously. but there was no way he’d accidentally misplaced the lingerie there. it was deliberately placed, with the way it was folded and tucked neatly, underneath an extra layer of paper above and beneath it? yeah, definitely on purpose. but— why? had he taken notice of your feelings towards him? was this his way of making fun or... reassuring you they were mutual?

god, what the hell are you thinking.

snatching your phone from your bedside table, you check the time.

2:01 a.m.

okay, everyone‘s bound to be asleep by now. hopefully. you eye the bag, so cautiously one would assume there’s some sort of killing machine within it. you contemplate. shake your head. no. the gears twist. yes.

no.

yes. no. yes. no—

fuck it, it’s yours anyways, isn’t it?

you snatch it loudly, rushing off to lock your bedroom door, then rushing to close the blinds, tightly, surely, then rushing to turn the lights off and turning the small lamp by your bedside on instead. what else are you meant to do with lingerie other than, well, put it on? it’s rational, you think, obvious.

it’s fine.

stealing one last, deep breathe, you dump the contents of the bag again, and pick out the lingerie.

it fits.

it fits perfectly.

the bra is snug against your chest, pushing at your breasts but not digging in uncomfortably. your nipples peak through what‘s revealed of the mesh, and when they stand perky and hard, you blame it on the fact that you‘re half naked. the garter belt wraps tightly around your waist, not squeezing to the point of discomfort and pain, but not loose that it’s a nuisance, and the clips that hang from it are attached to a pair of stockings that stop mid thigh, squeezing at the flesh. finally, a pair of panties rest on your cups, cupping your ass perfectly. it too is sheer, and god— you can see so much of you.

is this— what he would‘ve wanted?

you can’t deny that you do look good. it shows your figure off appealingly, and coupled with some dark lipstick, your messy hair, and the slightest smudge to your day’s eyeliner— would— would he have wanted you like this? all dolled up for him?

is this what suna likes?

doubting the fact that you’ll ever have the courage to put this set on again, you grab at your phone, clearing the area before your mirror, then sitting down at the edge of your bed. might as well enjoy it while it lasts, shouldn’t you? posing in the mirror, you appreciate the way you look, the way the dim lighting complements the atmosphere, the way the piece hugs your body and shows you off. you look so good.

so good— for him.

reveling in this surge of confidence, you snap a good amount of pictures, posing differently in each of them, taking them at different angles. your camera roll overflows with them, and as you fall back on the bed, hair splayed out on the mattress, you smile proudly at the pictures.

do you look good enough for him to see?

the thought strikes you suddenly; it tickles at the pit of your stomach, makes your knees bend and your toes curl.

should you?

the messenger app is open at the text messages between you and him before you can think, a picture of you uploaded and ready to send.

should you?

you tuck your lower lip between your teeth, mulling it over anxiously.

no, you most definitely shouldn’t.

quickly, you swipe out of the messenger app, and onto safari. porn it is.

you should‘ve turned the ac on. fuck, it’s hot.

3:10 a.m. 45 minutes since you’d put the lingerie set on and had your mini photoshoot, ten minutes since you’d started masturbating. everything’s still in place except for the garter clips, which have snapped off of your stockings at some point in the past few minutes, but you pay it barely any mind as your legs spread wider, one hand dipped beneath your panties, the other pressing hard against your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not that you generally had a problem keeping down your noises. your home was constantly filled with people, and you’re almost always sexually frustrated at the most inconvenient times. this time, however, it’s different. it’s different because you’re wearing a lingerie set that suna picked out, that suna bought for you, that suna gave you himself. would he have wanted to watch you touch yourself like this, dressed up so pretty? or— would he have wanted to fuck you while—

shit, you’re gonna cum.

you let out a broken moan, bleeding into a desperate son, muffled barely your hand. your fingers fuck into your cunt faster, squelching lowly as you arch your back, pressing your palm harshly against your clit.

“ugh, hngh,” you whine, squeal, wrist aching. “fuck, rin— please—“

you’re so loud, shit, shit, shit.

beside you, your phone dings! loudly, alerting you of a message received, but you can’t stop, not when you’re so close. it dings again, and again, but you continue to ignore, chasing your own high so desperately, faster, faster, faster. the coil tightens, your body tenses, mind hazing over and eyes rolling back— so close, so fucking close.

“well aren’t you a doll.”

your eyes snap open, and you only manage one second to process who the fuck and what the fuck before your hips are trembling and twisting, and your legs are shaking so awfully as your back arches deep. the moment you hear his voice, so deep and clear, looming just by the edge of your bed where you lay spread, fucking yourself, you cum— and you’re convinced you have a humiliation kink. you didn’t cum because you’d simply been close— you came because you heard him catch you.

in your post orgasmic daze, you pant deeply, chest heaving, rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. your fingers pull back from your panties, falling to the bed, sticky and wet, while your other hand falls from from your mouth, drool and spit dripping from the corner of your lips.

“aw, you ruined the set.”

you sigh. “rin.” the way you say his name isn’t in a way that’s calling out for him, but neither are you scolding him nor brushing him off for teasing you. you’re just simply trying to process the fact that he’s here.

“i like it when you call me that,” he admits, and in a second he’s falling over you, hands bracing and steadying him beside your head, keeping himself hovering at a small distance. “why do you always insist on calling me suna?” he wonders, head tilting curiously.

blinking slowly, you breathe in, and out, and ask, “what are you doing here?”

above you, he shrugs. “you were the one that sent me those—”

immediately, you’re pushing him off you, sitting up all too quickly as you reach out for your phone. you shakily unlock it, typing in your password and opening the messenger app. he’s right— shit. you could’ve sworn you’d deleted the photo, because you’d explicitly decided just how stupid sending it would’ve been. 

well, look at you now. 

“that wasn’t— oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to,” you stutter, turning your body towards him once more, but avoiding his gaze, your body, only barely having just cooled down, heating up once more. 

“oh?” he tests. “was it not meant for me?” 

“no, i—“ 

he’s smiling all too wide for him to not be getting off on your embarrassment. at the thought of that, your eyes unintentionally snap up to him, to his crotch, where beneath his sweats is a bulge, and god, it’s like all those nights ago where you’d seen his dick through his sweats and he’s big, he’s so big—

“just where do you think you’re looking?” he sneers, hand all of a sudden gripping your chin, tilting your head back up and forcing you to finally, for the first time, meet his eyes. they’re dark, almost sinister, as they narrowly glare at you, begging you for explanation. 

your mind’s no longer clouded over, all pleasure dissipating from your veins, pathetic humiliation replacing it. “i’m sorry,” you mewl, eyes tearing up at the look on his face. of course he was disgusted. just as your stupid crush on him was natural, so was his reaction. “i’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone,” you beg, lower lip wobbling. 

his grip on your chin tightens as he furrows his brows. “tell anyone?” he questions. “about what?” 

had he not— heard you? 

he says your name, firmly, deeply, in a way that has you stifling your sobs and biting your bottom lip to stop its quivering. patiently, you wait for him to speak, to say anything, until finally, he asks, “do you want me to fuck you?” and your heart stops. “yeah?” he continues, his other hand reaching for your wrist, your hand, the same one that’s still sticky with the evidence of you. slowly, as he brings his lips closer to yours, fingers slipping so that he’s squishing your cheeks tightly, he leads your hand to his crotch, to where his dick is painfully hard beneath his sweats. your initial touch is featherlight, and he doesn’t fully press your hand to his clothed cock, but still, just the smallest, tiniest feel of him has the lust in your veins thrumming alive. “you think you’d look pretty—” he pauses, lips hovering by yours, eyes searching for any sign of hesitance or resistance, “sitting on my cock?” 

“i’m sorry,” you apologize again, but he swallows it by finally, finally, pressing his lips to yours. his lips are so soft, softer than you’d imagined and fantasized a thousand times over, as they press against yours, managing to pull the softest moan of surprise and pleasure from you. you’d forgotten, in your moment of shame, just how much you’d craved suna rintarō. just how often you thought about him, those same fingers gripping your chin to be buried inside of you, those pretty lips sucking on your tits and clit. “want you so bad,” you hiccup, kissing him back. “so bad.” 

he hums, amused, pulling back. licking his lips with a grin, as if tasting you, his hands leave you entirely, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he lifts it up, freeing himself of the piece of clothing. “don’t you think i know, sweetheart?” he teases, daringly. at the sight of your eyes widening, he nods with a dramatized serious expression, tutting as he adds, “so dirty, thinkin’ ‘bout me like that.” 

you whine again, hands lifting up to obstruct your face from his view as you fall back on the bed, body bouncing slightly. “stop,” you plead, not for him to pull back but for him to stop reminding you of just how wrong it is to feel the way you do. still, you spread your sticky thighs for him when he presses his hands to your knees, and you shiver at the feel of his fingers tickling at your skin. “i’m sorry.” 

“that’s okay, pretty girl,” he reassures you, faux sweetness dripping like honey off his tongue. he leans in, carefully slow, hands following the curve of his body and yours. “i want you too.” he smiles mischievously, leaning close once more. “so bad,” he mimics you, lips hovering right above yours before he kisses you once more. you want to pinch his arm for outright mocking you, because really, how infuriating can he be? but it’s impossible to want to do anything but desire him in every possible way at the moment, especially when he presses himself harder against you, hips slotting between your legs and clothed cock brushing against your dripping panties. 

“rin,” you plead, hands clawing at his back, grasping at his shoulders. god, his skin is so warm. 

“yes?” he drawls, wet lips kissing the corner of your mouth, trailing easily to your jaw, and down to your neck. patiently, he waits for you to speak. 

with a trembling voice, you ask, “be quick. please.” 

a little stunned, suna pauses his ministrations at your neck, but it’s barely for a second. because moments later, he’s grinning sinisterly into the crook of your neck, sucking hotly as he replies, “sure thing.” 

you do want to take your time. you want him to stuff his face between your legs and sink his fingers so deep inside of you. you want him to force your mouth down on him, want to bury your face in your lap till you’re choking and gagging on his cock. you want him to take his time stretching you for his cock before he sinks inside of you, letting you feel every single inch and ridge of his dick until he bottoms out. you wish. you wish. 

but you’re desperate, and needy, and frustrated, and most of all, you’re not even sure if this is real. you’re scared to blink and have him disappear all of a sudden. you’re scared to wake up with soaked panties and no gift from suna, no suna above you, hard cock pressing against your cunt, only the same suna from all these past years, the same suna you pine over at a distance, wanting but never having. 

so you whimper so quietly, “be quick,” again, because he’s still too slow for your liking.

his fingers grasp the sides of your panties, pulling as quick as he can, sliding them down your thighs, watching as the cloth rolls at the urgency as it slides past your knees, your shins, your ankles, legs lifted high up. at the final loop around your right ankle, as suna flings it off, he kisses at your ankle, gripping it tightly and using it to spread your legs. 

as your legs spread, your pussy, soaking from both your past orgasm and this unbelievable build up, spreads too, glistening and dripping for him. his eyes easily fall to it, and, with that same glint in his eyes, he grins, and licks his lips again. “wish i could have a taste,” he admits to you, shuffling closer and bending your legs closer to your chest with one hand. the other hand frantically pushes at the hem of his sweatpants, tugging it low, beneath his balls. “god, i’d have you sit on my face for hours.” 

he’s going to kill you. 

he’s going to fucking kill you. 

at his words, your cunt pulsates and clenches tightly, hole glistening as you moan. you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does, somehow, and he laughs, too fucking loud. “you liked that, hm? bet you’d look so cute,” he spurs you on, and your entire body trembles. 

you wish to say something, to find the courage to belittle him, degrade him, remind him that if you’re in the wrong for wanting this then so is he, but it’s so hard to find your voice. it’s like he’s stupefied you completely, reduced you to this dumb, wordless, horny mess. god, fuck, it’s embarrassing. you can only watch with wide, tearful eyes and quivering lips and trembling legs as he spits on his hand and fists his cock, quickly, getting himself all nice and slick for you. his cock is— he’s so big, fuck. if you’d been shocked feeling him beneath his sweats, well, your entire body’s rigid with anticipation now. 

just as promised, suna’s quick. with one hand pressing and steadying firmly at your lower stomach, right by your hip, he guides his cock to your cunt with the other, wasting no time by pushing in. no way, no way, no fucking way. 

how is he fitting? 

“ease up,” he orders sharply, forcing more of himself inside of you.

in response, you bring both hands up to your mouth, clasping them tightly above your lips. you remaining quiet is as impossible as ever, with the way he’s stretching you so wide for him, so you press down harder with your hands and throw your head back as he sinks in deeper, and deeper. 

“aren’t a good girl?” he praises sweetly, his other hand mirroring the one on your hip. he watches as you lower your head again, lifting it up slightly to look between the two of you at where he’s fully bottomed out, buried deep inside of you. “feel good?” he wonders, even if he knows the answer. your head falls back again and you nod with your eyes squeezing shut. “feel so full, yeah?”  you’re glad he’s speaking for you, because you doubt you could find your voice at the moment, even if you tried. 

you nod again instead, urgently, just as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you, before pressing back in quickly, thrusting into you suddenly. the sight of him above you is better than anything your mind has ever made up, hands squeezing at your hips tightly, both ensuring you keep your legs spread for him and keeping himself up, steadying himself as he fucks into you. his arms bulge and the muscles in his abdomen tighten and tense with every thrust. his chest, so flushed red; his hair, a little sweaty, a little messy; his brows, furrowed deep in concentration; his lips, wet and red, so fucking red, his tongue jutting out slightly as he picks up the pace, as he thrusts faster, harder. 

and best of all: the noises he makes. he’s shameless, fucking into you with abandon, moaning and grunting and whining for you, like he’d been the one yearning, pining, and not you. and, you suppose, with the way he’s fucking into you right now, that there might’ve been some truth in his words, that he’s wanted you just as bad, that this wasn’t some pity fuck— poor little girl, his best friend’s sister, sending him lewd and inappropriate photos because she’s so desperate, she can’t help but lust after him, every single day. 

his hands squeeze even tighter and he grunts, gritting his teeth sharply. “fuck, m’already close,” he grunts, and somehow, that makes your heart swell, pride deepening. “cunt’s so fucking tight, shit.” you’re making him say those words, you’re going to make him cum so quick, it’s you. you. 

when his hands crawl up to your breasts, squeezing and kneading through the bra, your hands fall to his forearms, gripping so tightly and digging your nails into his skin. “please, please, please, cum inside,” you beg, trying to be as quiet as you can. “please rin, please.” 

the bed creaks with the effort and speed of his thrusts, your body bouncing as his cock fucks deep into your cunt. his head bows in, smooth hair swinging forward as he curses. “are you— hm..hngh—sure?” he asks, and you nod so rapidly you feel dizzy, arching your back as much as you can to get him deeper inside of you. he’s a mess of curses and pants as he fucks you even faster, one hand remaining at your breast, grasping tightly, the other lowering to your wet clit, rubbing furiously, messily, clumsily. 

no words are exchanged as he desperately circles your clit with the rough pads of his fingers, squeezing and kneading your breast as he angles his hips, trying to get you to cum before he does. and just as as before, just as he’d caught you earlier, your body starts to tense up, shaking in anticipation as your orgasm draws closer and closer.

but there’s something— different. 

“rin!” you yell out, still half-whispering in an attempt to keep quiet. your eyes well up as you call out for him again, your orgasm unbearably close. “rin, feels weird— oh m—”

he only just barely manages to shove his hand against your face before you’re screaming, throat aching and scratching as you thrash beneath him. around his cock, your cunt spams and clenches down tightly, cum splashing and spraying all over his lower stomach and past his cock to his balls. you’re still thrashing, still squealing and screaming, and he’s spilling inside of you, filling you up impossibly, his cum splashing and dripping as it mixes with yours. 

“holy shit,” he breathlessly marvels, hips still rocking and grinding against yours as he helps the both of you ride out your highs. “you ever—“ he steals in a breath, steadying himself slightly, “—cum this hard?”

you’re sobbing, hiccuping and mewling and whining and crying, your body impossibly sensitive. tears stream freely down your cheeks as you sink into the mattress, feeling quite literally like jelly. slowly, suna pulls his cock out, trying not to get distracted by the way your cunt squeezes out some of his cum, and instead focuses on you, his hands cupping your cheeks softly. 

“hey, hey, eyes on me,” he encourages, kneeling above you as his thumbs brush at your tears. 

“m’sorry, ri— suna,” you heave, hands grasping his as your eyes water again, fresh tears joining ones that are yet to dry. 

“what for, sweet thing?” he asks gently. when you start to lift yourself up, he leans back, sitting on your bed, giving you space to get comfortable. he watches with worried eyes as you furiously rub at your eyes with your palms and the back of your hands, as the tears never stop flowing. shit, did he fuck up somehow? he calls your name again, cautiously reaching out for you. when you don’t reject his touch, his heart settles, just a little. “tell me what’s wrong?” he offers again, and you sniffle. 

“are you not disgusted?” you ask, voice wobbly and cracking. 

his brows furrow, and he cocks his head. “because you... squirted?”

you slap at his arm with a roll of your eyes. “no, suna.” 

“when did i lose my first name privileges?” he asks, dramatically shocked. again, you roll your eyes. well, at least the tears have ceased. softening slightly, suna sighs. he’s shit at this. he’s worse than shit at this. talking in general? awful. talking about his or someone else’s feelings? he’s sure the devil would be better comfort. still, he can’t just— leave you. he’s sure that would make things a thousand times worse.

and honestly, neither does he want to leave you. 

“i can’t read your mind, pretty girl,” he reminds you, and momentarily, you look away. 

until you inhale sharply, and meet his eyes again. “it’s okay...” you begin, trailing off as you attempt to gather your words, before continuing, “that i feel this way for you?” 

at your words, at the much needed clarity, suna sighs in relief. so that was it. “more than okay,” he promises you. 

you nod in understanding, before prodding further, “not weird?” 

he thinks it over, before answering. if he’s honest with himself, the most he’d felt with you was sexual attraction. he liked the way your tits bounced when you ran to greet him or the press of your ass against his crotch when you passed by him to get somewhere. he liked— he liked thinking about your body, your lips, your hands. it’s why he sent you that lingerie set, the one that sits so pretty on your body right now. not that he’d been expecting you to send him anything, and he’d even anticipated that you might feel disgusted, might throw it in his face and slap him too. but he knew you better. suna was observant. he knew more than he let on, more than anyone could imagine. if he hadn’t realized your eyes on him in the past years, he must be blind.

still, he’s not sure if it was ever more, or if it is more. but, he supposes, it’s not an unimaginable feat. he thinks that maybe, there is a chance. he likes you, sure; you make his belly twist and his heart jump. but is he going to risk leading you on? 

he doesn’t know. 

he settles for, “good weird.” 

your face is the definition of a question mark. “what the hell is good weird?” 

“your face is good weird,” he retorts. it’s a bad comeback, terrible actually, but his face is flushing a dark red, and he needs to get away. you’re flustering him and it’s pissing him off. 

“that’s so mean!” 

yeah, the devil would’ve been better comfort. he wasn’t around though, so he made sure suna had been sleeping over that night instead. 

worked in your favor didn’t it? 

end note; my godddddfhksfhbskjbsb ,,, sorry if you found mistakes this took me all day and im not assed to proofread <//3 but i hope you liked regardless!! 

[kimnjss]

uncharted territory | kth

⤑  series: kinda hot

⤑ pairing: campus flirt!taehyung x sweet girl!reader

⤑ genre: lmao i don’t even know... angst? smut?

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 7.5K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: use of alcohol and weed, cursing, dirty talk, slight hair pulling, over-the-shirt nipple play, dry humping, ruined orgasms.

⤑ A/N: hihihi! just here to remind you how much i appreciate all of you guys reading this story nd getting as invested as you are!! don’t hesitate to let me know what’s on your mind - no matter what it is ., feedback is my favorite!!

JANUARY 30TH, 2021 | 19:07

Hoseok is leaning handsomely against the side of his car when you're stepping out. Arms crossed over his chest as his teeth nibble on his lower lip, eyes seeming to sparkle when he's looking at you. The shine only getting brighter when the corners of his mouth lift into a smile. Body lifting from the side of the car to pull the passenger's door open, gesturing to it with his hand.

“Ooh, check out the gentleman,” You're teasing with a laugh, ducking into your seat as he rolls his eyes. Jogging around the front of the car until he's sinking into the spot beside you, taking another moment to let his eyes travel over your body.

Nodding slightly to himself before he's grinning, “You look hot,” His warm hand landing on your thigh to give it a little squeeze before he's pulling from his parking spot and onto the road.

Compliments from Hoseok came sparingly, wasn't really one to gush over your appearance with mere words. He was more of a show-er than a talker in that sense. So when he was paying you a compliment, it was never anything all that deep. Never once compared the brightness of your eyes to the sunlight or whatever Shakespearean shit he could muster up. He was just going with what he thought and you appreciated that.

It kept things from getting confusing between the two of you. If he was constantly dotting on you and telling you how amazing he thought you were (and you were amazing, no doubt about that), but if he was telling you.. it would definitely put a damper on your whole arrangement. You were a simple girl to be completely honest. Words got to you, you'd be head over heels in love if he was calling you beautiful every chance he got.

Hot was good. Hot was fine. Hot was safe. Because catching feelings for Hoseok? You'd be better off standing in the middle of the road waiting to be run over. And then getting the driver to put it in reverse. Hoseok was brutal when it came to girls and relationships, didn't waste time on feelings or the overly emotional.

A bit of an asshole, but that was why you liked him. He knew how to keep things fun and exciting, loved being surrounded by people. But he wouldn't hesitate to tell someone to fuck off if the circumstances called for it. He was cool. To put it simply. A very cool guy taking you out on a date. Anyone would be giddy about that, it was Jung Hoseok for crying out loud!

“What you got a taste for?” His eyes don't move from the road in front of him. One hand steering the wheel while the other keeps its hold on your thigh. Skin easily warming under his touch, you force yourself to focus on what he's saying.

Having to keep yourself from suggesting, (for the first time in person but the eighth(?) to him) skipping dinner and going back to your place to make proper use of your time. You bite that down. He wanted to take you out to eat, so you planned to humor him. Eat with him so he can eat you out. Simple.

“Anything, really. You like pasta. Should we just go to that Italian place?” With a slight nod, he's directing the car toward the restaurant. The smile on his face lets you know that he had been secretly hoping to get to eat there tonight. It was his favorite place to go, knew the menu like the back of his hand.

So he's pleased that you're suggesting it.

The car ride is filled with soft music and playful banter about whatever comes to mind. He's challenging you, saying things that he knows will get under your skin just to hear you argue why he's wrong. Laughing as you outline all the reasons why mints and chocolate should be far away from each other.

He keeps a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leads you into the restaurant. Still egging you on with why he thinks you're wrong, laughing at the way your face twists up at him. Pausing only briefly to get your table, but the debate is in full swing the moment the two of you are settled across from each other.

There's a subtle type of competitiveness in his tone, paired with the playful smile on his face. Not even a full hour here with him and you were starting to see what Jimin was talking about. Being out with Hoseok, talking beyond where you should do it next, was something you never considered. 

It's nice.

JANUARY 30TH, 2021 | 19:59

Conversation between the two of you doesn't die down even after your food is being set down in front of you. You're only now noticing that you never really talked to Hoseok before. You were friends, of course, that's what the 'F' in FWB stood for, but you were more like group friends.

Never really hung out alone until some months ago when you were starting this whole thing up. And fucking didn't really account for all that much talking. You knew nothing about him aside from the fact he was Taehyung's asshole womanizer roommate. No idea how witty, how animated, how attractive he could be.

It made you want him even more.

He's in the middle of explaining the King Henry VIII drama he had seen the other night, which is also surprising. He almost seemed 'too cool' to be this interested in a period piece starring Natalie Portman. But he's speaking so excitedly, that you can't help but hang on to every word from his lips. All until your phone is flashing on the table beside you, Taehyung's smiling face lighting up the screen.

The buzz steals both of your attention from the conversation, your brow furrowing slightly. A part of you knows that he's only calling for nonsense, probably in the midst of a fight with his girlfriend and he's calling for you to tell him he's right. It's hardly ever an emergency when he's calling you, so there should be no problem with letting his call go to voicemail.

Especially this close to the end of your date, you'd be heading back home with Hoseok in no time. Plus he could just text you if it was something important. There was no reason to answer, and yet, you can't keep your hand from reaching for the device. Shooting an apologetic smile over at Hoseok.

“He knows I'm with you... he wouldn't call if-,” The nod of Hoseok's head cuts you off, waving you away with a smile to take your call. And you're excusing yourself quickly, pressing the phone to your ear once you're far enough away from the table.

He better have his dick caught in a mousetrap or something to justify interrupting your dinner. “Tae. What's going on?” You listen, for any telling sounds of things being out of the ordinary. All you hear is the hum of the TV and his heavy breathing hitting the line.

“Yn, you've gotta get over here.” There's an urgency in his voice that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing. “Why? What's going on?” It's probably something stupid, it usually is when it comes to Taehyung. But curiosity has already set in and you find yourself thinking of how to tell Hoseok you have to go. 

“I can't just tell you... you have to come,”

Groaning into the phone, your hand lifts to pinch the base of your nose. A deep sigh leaving your lips. “Tae. I'm out right now. If this isn't urgent-”

He's quick to cut your words, “It really can't wait.” He almost sounds serious, which has the slight annoyance you feel melting away. “Okay, okay. I'll be there in a minute,” Quick to hang up the phone and head back over to the table.

Hoseok has his head bowed, full attention on the plate of lasagna as he shovels forkfuls into his mouth. Reaching for his glass as you slip back into your seat, gulping down his water. And you're two seconds from telling him that you have to go when he's reaching for his napkin, wiping the corner of his lips.

“Taehyung needs you to rush over?” How he was able to just guess that is beyond you, but you're nodding your head a sheepish smile taking over your features. “He says it's urgent,” You genuinely feel bad. Even though things between Hoseok weren't any deeper than hooking up, you still had agreed to come out with him. To stay out with him.

To leave in the middle of it (not to mention before you could wrap everything up and go back home) felt shitty. You were having a good time getting to know him, but if you didn't go see what was going on with Taehyung, you knew it would bother you for the rest of the night.

Despite everything, Hoseok seems to understand. Insisting you finish the rest of your risotto before he's paying the bill. He even keeps up with the bubbly conversation from earlier, enjoying the sound of your laughter all the way to the car. Guiding you in with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

He lets you choose the music and hums along with the songs you play. It's not long before he's pulling up in front of his house, car staying on as he steps on the brake. You wait for him to put the car in park and when he doesn't, you're shooting a confused look in his direction.

“You're not coming in?”

He's quick to shake his head, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “I'm gonna go see what's up with those girls in building E.” Oh. Right. You almost forgot for a second who you were dealing with. Jung Hoseok, notorious fuck boy. If he wasn't sleeping with you, then he'd just find someone else to do it with.

Feeling bad for cutting your date short was useless. “See you later, then.” He meets your words with a nod, waiting patiently for you to get out of his car. Spares a moment to lift his hand in a wave before he's speeding down the road.

JANUARY 30TH, 2021 | 20:21

Taehyung is sat on the couch when you enter the house. Hunched over a bowl with chopsticks in hand. Torso bare and hair falling in a ruffled mess around his face. He doesn't budge at the sound of the door, too focused on pushing long strings of spicy noodles into his mouth.

He could've at least put together a fake emergency if he was going to call you over like this. Pretended his arm was broken or something, instead of coolly sitting on the couch trying to gulp down his beer around the mouthful of Ramen.

“Hey! What's so urgent? Why are you half-naked?” Your loud voice startles him, droplets of beer falling from his lips and rolling down his chest. He swallows, reaching forward to grab up a napkin, using it to wipe at his well worked on pecs. 

Your eyes follow the movement of his hand, long fingers brushing the droplets from his tanned skin. It must be the anticipation of getting fucked tonight because you're finding it hard to tear your gaze from the ripples of his stomach. “I'm in from the gym,” He explains the no shirt, the tightness in his arms that have fallen victim to your greedy stare. Flexing obviously as he reaches for his drink again, taking a few sips before he's picking up his bowl. His chest tenses with the movement.

Has he always been this... wow? Quite literally staring in the middle of the room, greedily enjoying the sight of your best friend without his shirt on. Yet, it's not the first time you've seen him sans shirt. Countless sleepovers and pool parties, but his bare stomach seemed different now.

Seriously. Did he always have abs like that?

You're forcing yourself to look away, face grimacing at the loud burp he lets out. Enough to snap you from your thoughts, wherever they were going was uncharted territory. And you had no interest in exploring that, especially when you were supposed to be annoyed with him!

“What's the problem? Why'd you make me rush over?” Wearily, you step closer to him. Eyes scanning over his body in a less pervy way, trying to detect any sign of injury. Maybe even a paper cut a little too deep. “Are you okay?” Your face inches from his, still searching.

He's laughing, hand lifting to rest on your forehead, pushing your head back slightly. “I'm fine. Want some?” Taehyung lifts the bowl between the two of you. And your gaze drops to the spicy scent. And normally you'd be letting out an excited whoop, accepting his generous offer and plopping down beside him.

But right now, all you are is annoyed. Annoyed and frustrated. If it wasn't for him, no doubt you'd be off somewhere with Hoseok, minutes from having your eyes rolled back, nails scraping against his skin. Instead, you're here, no emergency in sight. You shaved for this! Matched your lingerie for this! What a waste.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? I was out with Hoseok, Taehyung.” As if he didn't know. And he had the audacity, to sit there, slurping his noodles as if he wasn't at fault for this annoying ache in the pit of your stomach. Something that would've been long taken care of if it wasn't for him.

His shoulders lift in an uninterested shrug, jaw falling slack as he shovels another mouthful into his mouth. “Well... now you're not. It's extra spicy. Your favorite,” He's offering more food up to you and all you do is roll your eyes, letting out a frustrated huff.

“You're fucking ridiculous,” You scoff, hands rummaging through the contents of your purse until your fingers are catching onto your phone. “I'm calling Hoseok,” You announce for no real reason, especially because he acts as if he hasn't heard your words. Attention back on the hot bowl in his lap.

He's being weird and you don't know what it is. Noticed it in doses these past few days and assumed it would just blow over... but he just seemed to be acting more and more out of character the more time passed. It confused you. And you hated being confused.

Part of you was convinced that it had something to do with him now knowing that you're sleeping with his roommate. The side comments, inadvertently trying to cock block, and now this being proof enough. But there was another part of you... a much smaller, poorly trained part, that was convinced these were the actions of a jealous man.

What would he have to be jealous of, right? It wasn't like he wanted to be the one sleeping with Hoseok. Well, debatable... but seriously, the way he's been acting lately has led you to believe that there was something else going on that he wasn't telling you. Tae's known the guys you've fucked around with before and never has he acted so... stiff?

Something changed. Something was different. And you can't help but wonder if the picture incident had something to do with it. Highly unlikely, as Joon said, he has probably already forgotten about it. But, nothing else made sense.

Hoseok doesn't answer. Not like you actually expected him to. He went to 'see what's up with the girls in Building E'. No doubt busy with that, why would he answer his phone? “Come on, Yn.” Taehyung is beside you now, you're not sure when he stood up, but you can smell the sweetness of his body spray. Even after the time, he spent in the gym.

“Listen, I'm sorry I interrupted you.” His hand is reaching to lower your phone, halting your request for an Uber. “...but you're here now. Just stay. Relax.” Flashing that breathtaking smile of his and it's becoming apparent how he gets away with so much. This boy knew how to use his looks to his advantage, there was no denying that.

But, you're not easily fooled. “You can't just interrupt my dates because you're lonely,” Some of the bite is gone from your tone. Not entirely sure how upset with him you really were. Of course, calling you out when he knew you were with someone else was shitty... but it was Taehyung!

A terrible reason, but the best one you could come up with. There was no way staying mad at him was an option, when he has done the reverse many times with you involved. He's smirking at you, picking up on the anger melting away from your features. “So it was a date. You told me it was just dinner,” He teases.

Not entirely pissed at him anymore, but that didn't mean you'd just let his stupidity slide. This was the second time he's interfered with your much needed Vitamin D and it was about time he heard something about it. “Just dinner. A date. A fucking square dance. Taehyung, you can't just cut in because you want.” He's looking at you funny, this dazed expression that you've never seen directed to you before. From him.

It makes your heart stutter, so you ignore it. “What if I did the same with you? If you were out with Ailee and I called you up with some stupid excuse?” He doesn't even hesitate, dark eyes glued to yours. A stare so intense, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I'd come running,” The deepness of his voice and the seriousness of his tone has your breath hitching.

There was no way this was happening. You were used to flirty Taehyung, got pretty good at compartmentalizing your feelings when it came to the Taehyung that you dealt with on a day-to-day basis. But this... this was different. Uncharted territory, indeed. The way he was looking at you? Talking to you? Nothing like you've ever handled before when it came to him.

No idea how you were supposed to react, so you decide to just leave to keep from making a fool of yourself in front of him. “I'm leaving. Goodnight, Taehyung. Call your girlfriend.” A halfhearted request, you're really just reminding yourself that he has one. And while 'The Other Woman' was a great song, that wasn't you.

“She broke up with me like an hour ago,” Again? You want to say, feigning disbelief. Their routine breakups were far from surprising and they always ended up in the same way: them back together and holed up in Taehyung's room for days on end. Only to end in a pointless fight that would repeat the cycle.

They were always broken up, but that didn't mean they were done with each other. It never meant that. “Please, stay.” He's pouting obnoxiously, so you're confused why you find it so cute. Fingers laced with yours as he lightly shakes your arm. “I miss hanging out with you,” Puppy dog eyes aimed right at your heart.

He's not wrong. It's been a little while since the two of you just hung out. Lounged around in sweats, ate, and watched bad TV. And it was very unlikely that Hoseok would be returning your call. Jimin is surely busy with Jungkook or something. You'd just be going home to sit around and do exactly what you could do here.

“Fine.” Eyes rolling to exaggerate your annoyance. “Go make another packet while I change,” Soft hair bounces as he nods his head, turning to pick up his half-empty bowl from the coffee table, carrying it into the kitchen.

You're halfway up the stairs before he's calling out to you, smiling when he sees your head poke around the corner. “I'm really sorry I ruined your date. That was not cool,” There's sincerity in his tone and in his eyes, every last bit of annoyance or frustration you felt dissipating at the sight.

“It's fine,” The prettiest smile he's ever seen pushes onto your lips, nearly stealing his breath away. “I'll just have to text Hoseok and explain your issue with separation,” Giggling at your own lighthearted joke and he's matching the sound. 

Silently praying you hurry upstairs so he can get his heart in check. So he could think. Something he's been skipping out on that since the moment he picked up his phone and decided to call you.

JANUARY 30TH, 2021 | 21:43

You're wearing basketball shorts. His basketball shorts. Paired with a sports bra that you must've left here for one reason or another. It takes everything in him not to zero in on the jiggle of your ass as you pass him. The pebble of your nipples pushing against the fabric. You always complained about how cold his apartment was.

He tries not to stare as you stretch to pull a bowl from the cupboard, laughing out loud when you realize that he's already taken one down for you. Thanking him as you move to stand close. Your cheeks are red and irritated from the quick way you removed your makeup with the dried-out wipes you left in his bathroom. Hair let out of the tight ponytail, cascading down your back in pretty waves.

It's not until you're pinning him with a furrowed brow and an upturn of your upper lip, does he realize he's literally gawking at you. With this unmistakable love-struck look in eyes. “Why are looking at me like that?” Spoken while plucking a piece of meat from the pan and pushing it into your mouth.

Caught and he doesn't even think of trying to backtrack. With a shrug of his shoulders, he's turning his attention back to the food in front of him. “I don't know. You just look beautiful or whatever,” He can hardly look at you as the words leave his lips, afraid you'll catch the blush on his cheeks.

“Or whatever?” You joke with a laugh, ignoring the flip of your stomach at the compliment. Instead, you move to the fridge, retrieving a couple of eggs while chastising him on forgetting the best part. Not sure what was up with him, but you refuse to let yourself get carried away.

You've spent so long accepting that he has and only will see you as a friend. Best friend, even. And just because he was throwing a few compliments your way didn't mean that everything all of a sudden changed. Nothing has changed. The two of you were still in the same spot you had been two years ago.

 Taehyung serves you with a smile ten minutes later, fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than normal. Not long enough to be weird, but definitely long enough to get the wheels turning in your brain. And then he's plopping down across from you like nothing, head ducked as he takes the first steamy bites of his food.

It takes everything in him not to profess his unclear feelings. Trying to limit how often he looks at you, censoring his thoughts as they teeter between mushy and cringe. It's hard with the way you're joking between bites the way you always do, he can't help but notice how pretty you are.

He felt lucky to have you like this. Even if it wasn't truly having you. Just the fact that you were comfortable enough around him to be like this. Even if it had been years, it felt different now somehow.

Everything felt different since he's started to notice little things about you that he failed to see all along. Your cute habit of flicking and tossing your hair as you spoke, more often with how animated you got. How your eyes lit up when you were excited. That tiny dimple at the corner of your mouth, which only made an appearance when you were laughing really hard.

On top of it all, he was noticing how obvious you were. Not exactly sure when it clicked in his mind and it could very well be his ego talking, but he was starting to feel like he wasn't the only one keeping a mental scrapbook. The more attention he paid to you and your little mannerisms, the more he picked up on the fact that you were doing the same.

Whenever he'd bite his lip, rest his cheek on his palm, angle his head in a certain way – your eyes would follow. And how could he forget the lust-filled look on your face as your eyes devoured him, it hadn't even been a full ten minutes since you got there and you were so obvious.

A wonder he didn't notice it before, but now that he thinks back... all of the signs were there. Everything that he missed has been screaming at him for the past-however-many years. And as much as he wanted to do something about it, he knew he had to be careful.

Extremely careful.

JANUARY 30TH, 2021 | 23:52

Right now, you had your legs in his lap – ankle inches from his junk, but that's the least of your concerns. You're more focused on tucking every last crumb of weed into the paper, eyes flickering between your fingers and the TV screen. 

“How is she this oblivious?” You're commenting with a wrinkle of your brow and Taehyung has to act like he's been following the plotline all along.

From what he was able to pick up with your brief summary of the plot and the way you talked over every scene with backstory, the main character was set the be married to a man with much more experience than her. In life. In the bedroom. The scene playing in front of you right now she was just finding out that he had been lying about not being able to have children.

You had suggested starting from episode one, but he denied the offer. There was something about watching you explain a show while getting frustrated about the scenes that played out before you that he found endearing. Not a new feeling, but holding a new meaning now.

He can hardly hear what's being said because you're in the middle of a rant on how there was no reason for her to be so clueless and sent into a marriage. And how her mother should've gone into the nitty-gritty before shipping her off. And how her husband was just a compliment douche bag for taking advantage of her ignorance.

Taehyung is positive he looks like you just agreed to go riding off in the sunset. Leaned back against the couch and watching you with this dazed-dopey expression that you sum up to him just being high. You were working on rolling the second joint you'd share.

His eyes follow as you lean forward, hovering over his lap as you reach for the lighter on his side. Not even thinking to ask him to pass it over, not that he's complaining about the closeness. Elbows holding your body up as you fiddle with the spark, bringing it toward you when it stays.

You catch his stare as you exhale, handing the joint off to him before moving back to your end of the couch, legs falling back in his lap. He doesn't pull his gaze from you, letting the weed burn out between his fingers. “What?” You're asking with a soft laugh. He's hissing out a breath, bringing the smoke to his lips and inhaling.

“You're fucking gorgeous, it's annoying.” He says with a shake of his head, a thick cloud of smoke leaving his lips. “You're always talking shit,” Speaking through a burst of laughter, but he doesn't entertain the thought any further. Extending his hand to pass it over, eyes flickering up to the screen.

There had been something that he had paid attention to when you first turned this show on. The conversation that was being had on the screen about best friends and getting married and falling in love. And how that's how you should do it. Marry your best friend and it would work out.

No matter how many porn-like sex scenes appeared after that, he was still stuck on that one conversation. And the thought that if you looked so pretty next to him right now, there was no telling how much prettier you'd look done up and dressed in white. He has to laugh at himself, though.

Blaming his raging thoughts on the half-empty bottle of liquor on the table and the green you're handing back over to him. Which is why he doesn't bother to stop the question that slips out next. “Do you think that's really the key?”

Half forgot that even though you never left his mind, you couldn't read it. So you have no idea what he's talking about. “Key to what?”

“Being happy in a relationship?”

He hardly ever really talked about his feelings being with Ailee. You just knew what he told you and that was very limited. She annoyed him, but she was sometimes funny and knew what she was doing. That was pretty much it.

So you're a little shocked that he all of a sudden was bringing this up as if you knew their relationship from a hole in the wall. “Are you not happy with Ailee?” Someone who fought with their significant other as much as Taehyung did, couldn't really be happy. But you could be wrong.

“I'm sure I could be happier,” He's looking at you with those eyes again, flicking the ash off with his finger before bringing the joint back to his lips. “Do you think falling n love with your best friend is the key to all that?” He pauses, the blurts the last part out like he's lost control of his tongue. “Like you and me,”

You're letting out a harsh cough that has nothing to do with the smoke cruising through your lungs. Eyes tearing up while your back shakes. “Me and you?” You manage, letting out a gasped breath. “Like me falling in love with you and you falling in love with me?” Finger used to point between the two of you, just to be sure.

Taehyung nods his head, unphased by your dramatic reaction. “Yes, that's exactly how that would work. A money-less transaction,” You're letting out a laugh and a shake of your head, pushing the thought from your head. He was only joking, talking shit for whatever reason.

“Yeah, no. That would never work out,”

His words chase yours, “Why not?” You don't miss the small pout of his lips, as if he's actually asking. Wondering why you thought the two of you together wouldn't work out.

“I know too much. You know too much,” Going with the first reason that pops in your head, one that you've used countless times with convincing yourself. “There's gotta be some mystery,”

Taehyung is rolling his eyes, “Oh, come on. We're not the Scooby-doo kids, Yn. Mystery is overrated.” He's really pushing for this and you're not sure why. Most likely entertaining the thoughts that pop into his foggy mind, so you don't allow yourself to think too hard on his words.

Or what they could mean. “It's perfect,” He continues. “You meet someone, become best friends, decide to fall in love and now you're married to your best friend. That's the dream,” He says with a grin. And you're not sure if he's actually talking about you or if he's just talking.

“That's lazy,” Either way, you attempt to get the race of your heart to slow down. No matter how much closer he was to you now, backs of your thighs pressed against his. You're nearly seated in his lap and you just now noticed the mindless way his fingers drag over your knee. “You can't pick off from your existing friends. You meet someone, fall for them and then you become best friends,”

His laugh rings through your ears, then your entire body. Just the sound has you feeling warm all over, something that you were sure you had gotten under control a long time ago. “You just said the same thing as me, except you changed the last two steps,”

“It makes a huge difference,” It did. One was the two of you and the other could be any two strangers on the street. For the sake of you, your version was the one you'd go with. Anything else and it would be hard to talk yourself out of it.

But Taehyung has been a lot more attention, putting the pieces together as they appear. And one thing he was always good at spotting (except when it came to you for some reason) was when someone was into him. And judging from the subtle changes in your demeanor throughout this entire conversation, you were so into him.

With caution on his mind, he's shifting focus. Hand lowering to discard the dead bit in the ashtray. Leveling you with a squinted eyes and a purse of his lips. “What's the real reason you didn't want me to know about Hoseok?” Sort of had an idea of what this might be, but he wanted to hear it from you.

“What do you mean? I already told you,” You're reaching for the bottle on the table, taking a swig to keep your hands busy. And to keep you from having to look at him, no doubt the unfiltered thoughts in your mind would be slipping out with one glance. 

He doesn't pull his gaze from you, though. “No, you said you didn't want things to get awkward. I think that was a lie,” His face is much closer to yours now, you can clearly see the faint beauty marks scattered against his skin.

Just a simple stretch of his leg and you're pushed further on to his lap. Back resting against his arm now that he has his hand is pressed against the armrest. He's close, but not suffocating, has left enough space for you to get up and move if you wanted to. But that's the farthest thing from your mind right now.

“Wanna know what I think it is?” Voice so low he might as well be mumbling. His eyes flicker down to your lips, noting how soft they look. And he finds himself wondering just how they'd feel pressed against his. “What?” You sound breathless like you had been thinking about the same exact thing.

He's smoothly moving his arm from you, guiding the way your back falls against the couch. “I think you're into me, like how I'm into you... and you didn't want me to know because of that,” The risk of fucking up your friendship takes the backseat because he knows he's right. Took his time and put the signs together.

“Yeah, right.” You laugh it off, but he's learned how obvious you are.

A grin spreads over his features, hand dropping to your hip. “You're making the face you do when you've been caught,” The heat of his palm spreading from your side to your entire body. And you've come to terms with the fact that you've lost control of your heart. Wrapped up in the moment where Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, your best friend and former crush revealed he was into you.

His head bows, nose nudging against yours. It's embarrassing the way your lips instantly pucker, eyes falling shut as you wait for the soft press. Eyes fluttering open after a moment of waiting and receiving nothing, catching the devious smirk on his lips. 

“You're into me, aren't you?” While he was sure, positive after seeing how ready you were to have him kiss you, he needed to hear it. Needed to be sure that he wasn't missing something, he's been doing a lot of that lately.

The nod of your head is answer enough, followed by your warm hand reaching to rest on the back of his neck. Not sure who moved first, if you were pulling him down or he was lowering himself and you really didn't care. 

A tiny moan escapes from your lips as he shifts above you, the sound being sent straight to his crotch. His mouth is pulling from yours, brows raised and eyes wide as he stares down at you – surprised by the fact that you could actually sound like that. Before he's given a chance to comment on it, you're pulling him back down.

Kissing you is everything he's imagined it to be and more. The soft push of your tongue paired with the deliberate scrap of teeth on his lip. Your hummed moans fill the room and stir him on, his grip falling from your hip to your thigh. Easily pulling your legs apart to slot himself between them.

Fingers tangled in his hair and heavy breath hitting his lips each time you pull away, only to dive right back in. Mouths moving over each other messily, Taehyung can barely ask the groans that die on your lips. Free hand pressed against his chest, you can feel the hammer of his heart.

Thighs squeezed to his hips, bodies so close the thinnest of papers wouldn't fit. So it's no wonder you feel it. The twitch of his cock hardening against you, so enticing you can't help the way your hips lift to meet his just as he's dropping down to press into you. A hissed moan falling from your lips at the contact.

“Fuck,” He's groaning, a switch seemingly turning on inside of him. Mouth breaking for yours and hand moving up the toward your chest. His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple through the fabric of your bra as he rolls his hips into yours.

Just the heat from pressing against you like this was enough to rile him up, mind reeling with thoughts of what it would be like to really fuck you. And the sounds you'd make. You sounded so pretty with the simple rolls of his hips, what if he was actually buried deep inside of you.

His head drops, mouth latching onto the crook of your neck to suckle at the skin there. Your senses are fogged with nothing but him. The smell of him, the feel, the taste. Still lingering on your lips and hitting your taste buds as you lick them. There's a definite heat growing between your legs with each drag of his covered cock, angled perfectly that he's just barely tapping your clit.

You want more. So much more and it's making you delirious. Needy. Hips rolling up to meet his and he's pushing you down every time. Teeth scraping against your skin and fingers pinching at your chest. “Taehyung,” It sounds more desperate than you intend it to. He's groaning back in response, face lifting from your skin to admire the red mark he's left behind.

Tongue dragging over it, soothing it with a simple swipe. Hands re-positioned on either side of your head, his gaze drops to watch the way your hips move in order to meet his, a smirk pressed on his lips. “Fuck, look at you... such a mess.” He's pushing forward, cock meeting your clit perfectly.

Strained whimper ripping through your throat as you brace your hands on his side, back arching into him. “Grinding that pretty pussy all over my cock, didn't even let me get undressed. You're so wet, huh?” Now you knew what the boys were on about when they clowned him for being mouthy. Had laughed along before, but having his words directed to you was no laughing matter.

You knew what you were doing. You could feel the effect of what you were doing but something about having him point it out in that breathy tone of his was hot. What you didn't expect was for him to want you to talk back, but the slow of his hips is quickly warning you of your role.

“Don't stop,” You're gasping, hands reaching out to him. “I could cum like this,” Your whispering, cheeks heating up at the admission. How embarrassing, losing it over dry humping, you half expect him to laugh it off as a joke.

But he doesn't, instead, he's lowering his body back onto yours, the movement of his hips picking up in speed. “Me too,” He breathes out, fingers tangling in your hair as his tongue teases against your covered lips. “Wrap your legs around me,”

His words are muffled, but you understand him enough to lift your legs, ankles locking behind his back. He drives into you like he's balls deep inside of you, pulling gasps and moans from your lips. Nails pressed into his skin as you beg him not to stop, chanting your near release. And just as you feel it bubble up in your stomach, his low pants of your name getting to you. Just as you're about to be knocked over the edge you've been teetering on, Jin's voice is breaking through.

His loud laughter bleeding through the door behind you, followed by the low grumble of Joon's voice. The jingle of his key is what snaps Tae out of it, body freezing as his head lifts to glare at the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You're quick to push him off, looking away as he adjusting the throbbing bulge in his pants – leaving you to wipe at the slobber-dampened mark on your chest. Jin and Joon are stepping in just as you're rushing upstairs for a shirt. Their laughter filling the downstairs as you rummage through drawers for something to pull on.

All while shoving your raging thoughts out of your mind. Still in shock that that actually happened... whatever that was. Taehyung was into you. He had said it and then kissed you. God, he kissed you. Would've been to be able to fully enjoy it if you weren't so damn greedy.

Just one taste and you were wanting the whole thing and from the look of it, he was willing to give it to you. But what if it had been a fluke. A one-off because of whatever happened to Ailee and the fact that you were there. Into you, but what did that really mean? Would that change anything?

You dare to hope, even though you're sure you're wrong. There was a lot going on tonight. Him fighting with Ailee, you being torn away from Hoseok before you can do anything properly. You were high! Still, high to be honest. Would he still be into you when he was sobering up?

Finding out is the last thing on your list. Fitting yourself as his best friend after your quiet crush was one thing. Doing that after he's taken back being into you was another. You didn't want to think about what a disaster that would be, you'd rather just go home and sleep.

Jin is turning to happily greet you as you make your way downstairs, while Joon makes room for you on the couch. Taehyung doesn't look up, cheeks flushed and eyes glued to his knees. You'd give everything to know what he's thinking.

“Yn! Tae said you were here. We're gonna open Monopoly, wanna play?” It's an invitation from Jin that you'd usually be jumping at. Claiming your designated money bag piece without a thought, so he's shocked when you're shaking your head. “Think I'm gonna just head home, turn in early.”

Tae looks up at the sound of your departure, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He had hoped you would want to stay, so he could have a chance to talk to you properly. Tell you how he was feeling even if he didn't fully understand it yet. He wanted to tell you that he liked you and he wanted to hear you say it back.

Let you know that he wanted to try to be good at relationships because he wanted to try with you. He's standing with that in mind, shrinking back when you're looking at him. There before did he feel nervous around you, but with all this weighing on his chest, he doesn't know how else to feel.

“Let me walk you home,” He offers, it's a twenty-minute walk across campus. Enough time for him to talk to you... or just be around you for longer.

You're shaking your head, though. Pushing an easy smile onto your lips. “It's fine. I texted Jimin,” It's a lie and he knows it is, but he doesn't call you on it. Obvious that you didn't want to be around him. Most likely regretting the whole thing.

Nodding as he plops back down beside Jin. He watches as you pull your shoes back on, throwing a quick goodbye over your shoulder before stepping out. Not even sparing a proper look in his direction. A huff leaves his lips as he sinks into the couch, hands tugging through his hair.

He really screwed up.

>> PART TWO COMING...SATURDAY.

— you’ve always been cute, soft, tiny in taehyung’s eyes. but that’s changing one night when you’re accidentally sending him a naughty picture. forcing him to realize, maybe his best friend is kinda… hot?

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[lilyswrittenworks]

Searching

Warning(s): None

Synopsis: The strong pull of your curiosity fueled you to start looking for the green man's whereabouts.

Weeks went by since your encounter with the stranger, life went on as normal. Except that in the back of your mind his image was engraved into your memory. You were constantly thinking about him even when you were trying to push the image of him aside only for it to come up later on in the day.

A strong pull was guiding you to the woodlands where he may or may not reside. Initially hesitant and unsure if you should even follow the pull because of some stranger. His intimidating presence would cause any rational human being to run in the opposite direction because of how alien he looked.

Sure, you were scared at first but it was more out of caution than anything else. It was a defense mechanism that you'd conditioned yourself to do; a front to mask the fear from showing. Your interaction with him was so brief that you couldn’t get a proper read on him, if he did want to cause harm he would have done so the moment he was behind you, but didn’t.

He intrigued you.

The curiosity combined with the pull that was beckoning you to go to the woodlands couldn’t be ignored any longer. Thus, you gathered the supplies and went on a camping trip to the woodland where you had met him. Not only were you on a quest to find him, it was also the perfect opportunity to hone your skills, exposed by the elements and also to get some much needed downtime from the Internet as well.

From there you begin the arguably long process of trying to search for him throughout the vast, dense vegetation. For days you would solely visit these woods to try and at least catch a glimpse of his silhouette only to turn up with nothing but the wildlife that roamed the grounds.  

Admittedly, it was beginning to take a toll on you.

You couldn’t keep this up for long, even convincing yourself that he wasn’t worth searching for. It made you feel foolish as a result. You kept thinking back on your students who were waiting for you to return from your trip. Their hunger to learn from you and in turn you provide them with the knowledge and skill, but also welcoming them as being a part of your family. These were the thoughts you had before returning to camp that night to get some shut eye.

Ultimately you decided to end your search. Gathering all your belongings and putting them away in capsules before heading out the woods.

Except this time you got completely lost.

You swore you left orange ribbons along the shrubs and tree barks the previous days to avoid this from happening, and yet it still happened. Whatever the case you kept on through the woods, cursing under your breath for not bringing the compass along to save you from this predicament.

It felt like you were wandering around for hours right up until you stumbled upon an untouched cascade. For the situation that you were in this was a wonderful find to calm yourself and get some clarity.

Your eyes wandered around the breathtaking scenery and noticed a silhouette floating above the body of water. A normal person would have been losing their minds at the sight of someone hovering in thin air without a plausible explanation, that’s not what you were focused on. What caught your immediate attention was the striking familiarity of a purple turban and white cape; it was him.

It wasn’t hard to distinguish that he was in a meditative state, eyes closed with his legs crossed and arms folded in front of him. The gentle sway of his cape and the soft lighting accentuating his toned physique. He blended in with the environment seamlessly in which people could easily mistake him as being part of the greenery around him by how perfectly still he is.

You just stood there admiring his otherworldly appearance, taking in his calm features until suddenly his eyes opened where he met your gaze. You never meant to disturb him intentionally but somehow it's as if he knew you were there the entire time.

Whether he knew or not, you found him by sheer luck. Perhaps it was fate that guided you towards him. Whatever it was, you were grateful that it gave you a chance to try and get to know him better.

(738 words in total)

━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━

Part 1

Your currently reading Part II

Part III

[studiojeon]

use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | -   Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee). 

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed. 

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish.  “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes. 

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better. 

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you. 

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face. 

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly. 

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. 

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips. 

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way. 

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were. 

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion. 

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on? 

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week. 

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker. 

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way." 

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while. 

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either. 

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out. 

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside. 

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you. 

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of  his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know". 

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right. 

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?" 

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though. 

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t. 

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

[its-deputy-caleb]

Hiii, could i have a request for how the gang members would react to meeting a historian or explorer in the wild?? thank you! I love your blogs sm!!

anon ily <3333 i went wayy overboard with these but i regret nothing bc this was soo cute and fun to write. I hope u enjoy and i made it gn for everyone. I only did the VDL boys for this but if enough ppl like it i might do the girls with something similar idk yet?

Dutch Van Der Linde

Dutch first laid eyes on you when you were hanging off the edge of a cliff after slipping when you got too close to the edge. He immediately ran over to you, helping you off the cliff and getting you settled back on your feet.

He seemed genuinely concerned and agreed to help you safely record the rock carving that was on the side of the cliff face, keeping you from falling.

You were a historian and had been studying these mysterious rock carvings after meeting an equally mysterious man, Francis Sinclair.

You didn’t see much of Dutch Van Der Linde after that until you ran into him again in Saint Denis in the saloon. He remembered who you were instantly and started up a conversation about your work where you chatted away for hours.

You became very close after that and he often accompanied you to Museums and fancy fundraisers that you were invited to.

He’d always get dressed up and complimented your finer outfits which was such a difference to the field gear you’d have on. You’d spend all night chatting away over nice champagne and dancing together before actually engaging with other guests but you didn’t have a care in the world with Dutch in your life.

Arthur Morgan

Arthur finds you standing in the middle of a field, flipping over rocks and staring numbly at what appeared to be a map in your hands.

When he approached you he soon learnt you were a young amateur explorer about to get your big break with a treasure hunt but you couldn’t find the gold bars for the life of you.

Arthur gave you a heart warming smile and held up a gold bar after retrieving it from his satchel having felt a little bad that he’d discovered it not a week before you.

The two of you laughed about it, calling yourself a fool for trying to find it for so long when it was clearly missing— the thought that someone took it clearly never crossed your mind.

Arthur was always a gentleman however and promised to make it up to you. After taking you to dinner and getting to know him better, you spent the next few days camping out and finding a new treasure together.

You travelled through caves and through valleys of flowers to find this treasure. Sometimes it was so beautiful that the two of you just stopped by a stream to let your horses rest and enjoy the scenery.

When you finally found the treasure you gave Arthur a big hug in excitement which caught him by surprised but he happily returned. He let you keep the treasure and wished you luck with more exploring but of course that wasn’t the last time you saw Arthur again.

Charles Smith

Charles meets you one day while you’re out surveying wildlife. You specialised in conservation, wanting to study and protect animal species.

Fresh out of the university from Saint Denis you’d been dying to get out of the confining city and explore the heartlands. That’s where a kind gentleman named Charles Smith had offered to protect you and show you around the herds of bison you’d taken to studying.

You spent days together riding the over the hills and following the herd as they travelled. While you were Charles told you all about his family and the respect and love they have for the beautiful creatures.

It was amazing the array of knowledge Charles knew about bison and you couldn’t stop the smile on your face as he told you about the characteristics of the bison. You rushed to take notes in your journal, knowing that all that he told you would help you study and protect these animals.

“Do you think it’ll actually do any good? The work you’re doing?”

“One can only hope Mr.Smith but I will do everything in my ability to protect such beautiful creatures.”

Even when you had to return to the city for study you constantly wrote to Charles, staying in touch and keeping him updated with all your work. It was hard to say goodbye to someone you’d grown close to but you made regular visits to each other long after that.

John Marston

You first found John in the saloon after a long day at work, in desperate need of a drink. Being a zoologist you instantly noticed the scars on his face and would’ve guessed a wolf was the animal that caused the damage.

The two of you instantly started up a conversation and shared all kinds of stories. He told you about being up on the mountain while you showed him the scar on your arm from your run in with a cougar.

You were collecting a compendium of all the animals across the heartlands and during the months you worked on it, you ran into John more than once.

He was always curious about your work and you often spent time together in the afternoon sun, showing him the animals you’d found so far.

“What about the stray dogs in town or do you only deal with cougars and wolves?”

“Well they’re animals too aren’t they not?”

Even though you couldn’t see John all the time, he often came along with you to see the wildlife and covered you when you were around particularly dangerous animals and you enjoyed every second you had with him.

Micah Bell

When Micah met you he had absolutely no idea what you were on about. In his mind the whole idea of a palaeontologist is ridiculous and made up, much less the fact that you chose to read books and study in your spare time.

At first he doesn’t do anything but mock your work but after running into you time and time again he finally started to come around.

He grew more and more curious when he saw the drawings in your sketch books of dinosaurs and even more so when he laid eyes on the fossils. But knowing Micah, he’s still incredibly stubborn.

“Ain’t no way that thing is real.”

“One needs an open mind to comprehend what’s prehistoric Mr.Bell. It requires a certain practice.”

Every so often on your work you’d run into Micah who’d be riding around on his horse, just passing by. By now you’d consider him a friend and your face lit up as he pulled a small ammonite fossil from his bag.

It wasn’t really your area of expertise but you could tell he wanted to impress you and seemed almost nervous as you examined the fossil. Nonetheless you could tell it was real and you let him keep the small fossil as a reminder of you until the next time you saw him.

Javier Escuella

Javier meets you when you’re down my the docks, trying to capture the sunlight and noticed him fishing.

Not wanting to disturb him you kept out of his hair until you heard him cheer loudly at a catch he managed to pull in. In your particular interest in animals, you couldn’t help but ask if you could take a photo of the fish he’d caught.

From then on the two of you became friends, often running into each other as you tried to capture landscapes and wildlife.

You’d always spend the day together and you’d show him how to use a camera while he showed you how to fish and play the guitar.

When you spent time apart you’d often write to each other to fill the gap. You’d always send pictures with little writing on the back of them while he sent you poems and songs that he wrote for you, promising to play them for you next time you’d meet.

In your personal journal you have the first picture you ever took of Javier, kept safe between the pages. He’s standing along the docks, facing the away from the water as he holds up a large sturgeon and a large smile.

You and Javier always stay in touch and after he told you of his chaotic and dangerous time in guarma he made light of it by telling you about all the different wildlife he saw while he was there.

Bill Williamson

Bill stumbles upon you in the wild by accident. He’s out scouting a lead when he ended up getting lost through the shrubbery and found you examining flowers closely.

When you told him you were a botanist he looked as if you’d just spoken a different language to him because he didn’t have a clue as to what that meant. Bill always made you laugh fondly at the confused look when you told him all the scientific names of flowers.

In Bill’s mind, a flower was a flower. There was purple flowers and blue flowers and even red ones but they didn’t have their own names.

The next time Bill ran into you he brought you what he thought was a bouquet of white flowers. Instead they were actually a species of weed that was poisonous when eaten but it didn’t stop you from smiling and hugging him which was the intended purpose.

In light of that incident Bill was actually curious about some plants, trying to learn about them more. When Bill went exploring with you he pointed out some of his favourites and you picked a few to put them in the brim of his hat for him to take him back to camp.

When you run into him again Bill tries to give you another flower, this time actually understanding the plant he’d picked was a Vanilla Flower Orchid or the Vanilla planifolia but he never learnt how to pronounce it unlike you.

With a high blush Bill placed the flower behind your ear and you pulled him into a hug, being careful not to crush the beautiful flower.

[rainiishowers]

If requests are still open, how would the brothers react to catching MC singing this song?(if the link doesn't work, it's the song In Your Arms by Illenium) Especially with the lyric of 'it's okay'(this is constantly playing in the background and lyric 'I'm not scared when it's over?' in the song, that part just hurting the brothers as if MC accepts death now?

Ch. 16 angst if possible, especially for Mammon? Maybe some guilt from the other brothers since they had put MC in danger at one point? Third person perspective if possible?

Have a nice day!

A/N: I’ll admit, I got a bit stumped on this one, but I hope you like it! I tried to fit the lyrics with the bro I thought it fit the most, so you could say I changed up the request a bit? I hope that’s okay

Warning: Death mention, spoilers for lesson 16 ---

Lucifer

It was dinner time, yet MC didn’t come out to eat.

Did they not hear him calling that it was done? He wonders so as he walks to their room

He was about to knock until he heard music, it wasn’t terribly loud, but loud enough to drown out any outside noise.

Lucifer decided to listen in a bit to what song they were singing along to

“If I died in your arms it’s right where I’m suppose to be”

That caught him off guard

The more he listened, the more the guilt over the past things he’s done to them sets in

Letting Belphie kill them, almost killing them himself a few times, threatening them,,,

They appeared to be accepting that they would die, at some point

..Would he be able to?

Mammon

As usual, he wanted MC’s attention

He was about to barge into their room when he heard music, and their voice singing along

“You know I’m not afraid as long as you’re next to me~”

“So tell me will you hold me, when the curtains close?”

His mind was flung back in time when MC died

Holding their body that was draining of life in front of him..

Screaming as they try to get them back..

His hands started to shake as they remember the feeling

The more he listened, the more he realized they were accepting death

Mammon wasn’t sure how well he himself would handle it but..

He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to give MC a peaceful sendoff

Leviathan

He was in charge of calling MC down for lunch this time

However, when he heard the human singing, he couldn’t help but admire it from afar

“All along all I needed was you, so I swear I’m not scared when it’s over!”

He blinks a bit, that felt.. directed at him somehow?

MC helped Levi so much, and as long as they are with him, he feels invincible!

But he soon caught another meaning..

Are they no longer afraid of death? After being near it a few times and experiencing it once?

Call him needy, but he wasn’t ready for MC to die...

Satan

He was walking to his room

Satan heard music from MC’s room, however.

He got curious and decided to lean against the door to see if he could listen in

“Yea we fell in love and built a home”

“Though we may never see the streets of Rome”

The reminded Satan of a line in a book they read together

A book about accepting death, learning to deal with loss and bittersweet memories after a loved one passed

Satan couldn’t help but think about what his life will be like after MC passed

The idea seems so.. dull..

Asmodeus

He was going to see if his darling MC would be up for some shopping

Asmo peeks in, freezing up when he realizes music is playing

“Never seen Mona Lisa up close”

“But I’ve seen perfection under your clothes”

That made him think of the time where Asmo showed MC some scars that never went away from the Celestial War

That’s the thing he’s most insecure about, but when MC complimented his body/wings, he felt a fire light inside him

He remembers that humans don’t live forever..

So he has to take every moment he can get.

Beelzebub

He wanted to eat some food with them, but he hoped he wasn’t being a bother

Beel goes to their door with an armful of food, but stops when he hears music

“Forget my fears when I’m under you, all along all I needed was you”

“So I swear I’m not scared when it’s over!”

When it’s over? Were they talking about when they die?

He’s scared about what will happen when they do, but if they seem to ready to accept it

He’ll try his best to accept it too

Belphegor

Belphie wanted to find his favourite pillow, so he drags himself to their room in hopes of finding them there

“Yea we may never sleep under the Northern Lights”

“But I’ve seen the stars flicker in your eyes”

Huh?

He remembers how excited he was to be free from the attic, that excitement only grew when MC couldn’t fight back..

He frowns, maybe entering their room wasn’t the best option right now

Belphie opted to sleeping against the wall next to MC’s door, hearing them sing helped him fall asleep

Perhaps he should take them to see the Northern Lights, or create a projection of it..