#need to seriously get my shit together and finish art more i think i made less art than last year

[i93bpm]

heres my assorted black jack doodles i spoke of. idfk where my other ones are (last one is from MAY BTW.)

[silkentine]

Wha--?! Silk finally finished her fem Zoro design after (checks notes) literally 6 months since she made the canvas in procreate?

I'll break down design thoughts and share some fun bonus pics under the cut:

I LOVE long hair on Zoro, I think that was the first change I wanted to implement. Zoro in canon actually has a really interesting relationship with gender dynamics which (if for some reason you're reading this and you haven't watched One Piece) can seem out of left field for the "dumb brute" character. His rivalry with and reverence for Kuina suggests he doesn't adhere to the idea that women are weaker than men. Later on, however, during his confrontation with Monet and Tashigi during Punk Hazard, his hesitation to slash her down reveals that he's subconsciously over-protective of women because he thinks they're inherently weaker. I actually don't have any problem with this character trait, I think it makes him feel more real as a person and he obviously gets shit-talked enough about it in the story itself. But how did I want to reflect these beliefs if Zoro had been born a woman? Easy: internalized misogyny and applying value to herself via her appearance.

My version of Zoro grew up wanting to fight with swords but her only chance of entering the dojo was to work under the proprietress, Lady Shimotsuki to maintain the property, cook meals for the male students, and eventually be a good wife to the current heir, Kuina. She learns that, to get what she wants, she must be the ideal woman, even if she stays up all night training swordsmanship with Kuina when she isn't supposed to. He treats her love for swordplay seriously and treats her like an equal, which sparks a bond between them and eventually leads to Zoro's goal of becoming the world's greatest swordsman after his sudden, accidental death.

After years of intense training (now that Lady Shimotsuki admits that she'll need a new heir and Zoro is the closest thing she has) Zoro's finally old enough to leave and begin her journey. She starts letting go of the idea that she has to look pulled together to be taken seriously because she can just kill anyone who looks down on her. Her clothing falls into disrepair, she wears outfits that help her move in combat, and she starts tossing her hair up into messy, knotted buns under her bandana. Even so, she keeps her hair long like rolling hills of grass. (At least during pre-timeskip. She lops off her hair to prove to Mihawk that she's serious about being trained.)

I've put her in a thin sweater that she stitches (poorly) back together after her first interaction with Mihawk. (I kept one sleeve because I was inspired by the santoryuu Nami that Oda drew that one time.) I also wanted to girl-ify the ubiquitous haramaki so I picked leg warmers for her because I think they're sufficiently "dated" enough to be kinda analogous with his old man belly warmer. I also love gyaru fashion, sue me.

Here is a screenshot of her as a blonde:

And here is a sketch of her post-timeskip where she's fully embraced her butch nature:

Hubba hubba, am I right?

Check out my tag "girl piece original design" to see more of my genderbending art! Next post, I'll put all my East Blue Crew designs together! I can't believe it's taken this long but I AM SO HAPPPPPYYYYY

[reallyromealone]

I think this is it.

Aight, thank you. Here's my request: So Pro-hero Bakugou has a husband (reader) and a son who didn't inherit his quirk. Instead, he got m readers' "weak" healing quirk. The kid hates/dislikes reader for getting his "useless" quirk instead. Meek reader doesn't want tell Bakugou that the son has a crappy teen ego, but Bakugou comes home early to see son berating reader. And Bakugo just scolds the son and explains why the the healing quirk is useful and how reader is amazing. Its a bit angsty, but can we have some fluff comfort at the end pls? Thank you again. :)

I got this

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

One thing no one in U.A expected was for Bakugo to get with Recovery girls grandson, the Omegas quirk being "healing aura" the ability to create a healing must up to 12 feet.

The two teens didn't get along initially, Bakugo crass and rude and (name) very much no nonsense and stubborn, the two constantly butted heads during their stay at U.A.

It was a surprise towards the end of their high school career for the two to move in together with an upcoming engagement "when did they even start dating?" Some would ask only to realize those arguments and comments were actually the two flirting.

(Name) ended up much like his grandmother and travelling agency to agency and helping out post villain attacks and doing what he could, gaining adoration and fans through how much he helped.

They almost forgot he was an Omega till he went on maternity leave.

(Sons name) was very much like Katsuki, a spitfire who had many little options and though Katsuki calmed down considerably there was no denying they were practically clones.

And because of this, it devastated (sons name) when he didn't get his sires "heroic" quirk but instead got (name)s quirk, the boy over time developing a resentment to his Dam.

Due to (name) only being called for emergencies, he ended up taking his late grandmother's place at U.As Medical wing.

And because of these hours, he was often left to care for his son alone while Katsuki did hero work, and because of this missed his son developing into a mythic asshole.

(Name) was exhausted after work, needing to use his quirk a lot today along with quirkless medical practice as many students didn't need his quirk but a simple bandage and such.

The house was a mess, whenever (sons name) came home he always made a mess, deeming it "Omega work" as the teen scrolled his phone "arent you supposed to be studying for the written exam?"

"Why should I? Dad got me in on recommendation, thank god since all you gave me was a shitty quirk" the teen snapped and (name) looked absolutely heartbroken at this as the teen continued "thank god dad's been teaching me martial arts since it's so useless-- seriously why did I have to get stuck with something as useless as your quirk, I'm amazed dad settled for someone as useless as you"

"The fuck you say?" The two turned to see Katsuki Bakugo walk in, out of uniform after finishing work at his agency "d-dad..." (sons name) looked sick and (name) on the verge of tears "your dad's "useless quirk" literally saved countless lives and your dad hauled ass saving countless People from villains" his voice cold as he dropped his duffle bag "why's the house a mess? You not fucking helping your Dam? I know he just got home so I know this ain't his mess" he laughed without any humor "disrespectful little shit, get up and clean this mess, after we train and get ready because it's gonna be hell" Katsuki promised coldly and the teen got up not wanting to piss off his dad more as the pro led (name) to their room.

"How long?" He said pulling the exhausted Omega into his lap, only soft for his mate "honestly since he found out his quirk, it's just been coming out the past few months..." Katsuki was shocked at this, how did he miss this?! "Why didn't you say anything?"

"... You were busy... You were working so hard on building your agency and I wanted to lift some weight off your shoulders" he wanted to cry as his husband held him close "stop being stupid" his voice loving despite the harsh words "I'll whip I'm straight, rely on me idiot"

(Name) was left to relax in the bedroom as Bakugo handled his son, calling a few hero friends to help especially the teens uncle Izuku and uncle Aizawa-- the teen spending his break at his uncle Aizawas and subsequently with uncle Shinsou who was visiting.

By the written exam he was kicked into shape and Bakugo made sure his mate was reminded over and over again how loved he was.

[saitama-division]

ARB Birthday Special: Kureha Koizumi

~~ December 25th ~~

“Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be.”

Login Lines:

“I woke up to my phone going off like crazy, it nearly scared the hell out of me, I had thought something was wrong until I went to check it. Turns out it was just everyone wishing me either happy birthday, merry Christmas, or both. It was…nice…I’m still getting used to celebrating my birthday but having so many people wishing me well helps a lot.”

Voice Lines:

“Haah…It’s that time again, I’ve been trying to finish all of my holiday commission before Christmas but I’ve been getting more and more requests, I’m not complaining though, I could really use the money.”

“The snow looks really pretty today, it’s cold which is good. I remember watching the snow fall with…him…he was really pretty too…I miss him…”

“What do 22 year olds even do on their birthday? I don’t drink much and I refuse to go clubbing no matter what Lola says. Honestly, I much rather stay home or spend time with Sayaka, it’s always nice and warm whenever she’s around.”

“Ehhhh?! No way!! I can’t believe the Vox wished me a happy birthday! I mean, I know we’re in the DRB together but I never thought he’d noticed me! Holy shit, holy shit, this is awesome!”

“The art museum in Saitama did something special for me, the recently opened up a new art exhibition in my honor, it had all my favorite paintings and works from my favorite artists there! There was even some of my own works! I was so shocked but also really, really happy!”

“Thank you, Merry Christmas, Sayaka! I hope you liked my gift…Ah, that’s good, that makes me really happy, you’re welcome….Er, mom please, that’s so embarrassing, I’ve been grown up for a long while now besides, you have Yoshiko to dote over, I’m fine!…Mooom! Please! My face feels like it’s about to melt off!”

“Oh sick, mom! This is so cool! Thank you so much, I’m sure Kazu will love it! No, no, it’s fine, I’ve been meaning to get Kazu one of these for a while now but they’re usually so expensive and it looks super cool too, I love it and he’ll definitely love it. Aw, even when you’re looking for cat toys you’re still thinking of me, thank you, mom.”

“Merry Christmas, Lola. I see you’re back from wherever you’ve went, what? Did you not think I’d notice when you’re gone? Tsumugi’s a good actress but I’ve known you long enough to be able to tell when you’re not yourself or if there’s an imposter. I won’t ask for details, I’m just glad you’re back in time for Christmas…is that…is that blood?…Y’know what, nevermind, yes I’m sure now what is it that you got me?”

“Whoa! Are these gemstones? Wait, these are Yule Gemstones! Where the hell did you get these?! And how the hell do you know about them?! Ah…oh yeah, that’s right, I didn’t think you were listening…it’s not witchcraft, it’s Paganism, yes there’s a fucking difference. Shut it, he has nothing to do with my beliefs, still though, thank you for this, it’s really great.”

“Yoshiko! Hey, merry Christmas baby sister! Wow, you got that many presents huh? Well that’s no surprise, you’ve been a good girl all year and Santa knows that and is very happy with you. Hm? You got me something?”

“Awww, Yoshiko, this is so pretty! And well made too! You’re getting better and better each year, I’m seriously impressed, nicely done!”

Sayaka Lines:

“Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Sweetie! I really loved your gift, I never knew that I needed something like that, thank you so much! Oh, I can’t believe another year has gone by, I really wish that time would so down for once, my baby is all grown up! *sigh* I guess you’re right but just know that no matter how old you get, you will always be my baby….okay, okay, I’m sorry, here, I got you a present.”

“Ta-daaaa~! I got you a cat tree for Kazu-chan! I know it’s not something that you yourself can use but I figured that since you take such good care of Kazu, you’d want to get him something nice. I was thinking about what you usually wear when choosing which one to pick and I thought this one fit the bill. Oh, I’m glad you like it! Happy Birthday, honey!”

Lola Lines:

“Meeeeeeeerry Birthmas, my darling! Ehhh?? How did you know that I was gone?! Aww, and here I thought I was so clever to fool you…AWWW, Sunshine!! I’m so touched!! What did I do to deserve such a kind and considerate best friend?!…Hm? Oh, shit, I didn’t even notice that, you sure you don’t wanna know? It’s quite the tale? Okay, okay birthday girl, here you go.”

“I remember you telling me about those crystals you’re so interested in, something to do with witchcraft or some shit like that? Is there a difference, sweetheart? *sigh* I swear, sometimes I think I shouldn’t have let you met Lyall, didn’t think it was possible for you to become more goth than you already are, well, you look happy so I guess that’s good, merry Christmas sunshine.”

Bonus! Yoshiko Lines:

“Big sister! Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas! Did you look at the tree?! I got soooo many presents! Hehe, mommy said that too! Yoshiko’s a good girl! Hey, hey! I have a gift for you! Here!”

“Yay! I’m happy big sister likes my present! I made it alllll by myself! Merry Christmas!”

[gwaaaaar]

My Personal Ranking of the MazM Games

Lawd im going insane so. Making this ranking. Excluding Yellow Bricks of course. Keep in mind this will not inherently judge the quality of the games moreso my enjoyment so feel free to disagree :) i would love to hear everyones opinions

HYDE AND SEEK SWEEP!!!

Imo theres nothing wrong with HNS (a lie there probably is but shhh). The characters are solid, the plot can fall a little flat at times but MazM said they prioritized making memorable characters more as they can be taken out of the story and used in multiple re-imaginings. They were pretty successful in doing just that. If we didn't have hns we wouldn't have Alan... mai waifu...

Kate is a good protagonist! She's a smartass and an absolute hothead but a load of fun. Pollie is literally a sopping wet meow meow tumblr would love her if HNS was actually popular. I don't think you guys need to know my opinion on Alan (beautiful gorgeous all that is good in the world). Mihir is good South Asian representation:) hes witty and sympathetic. Shoutout to Crack for actually making him look South Asian... so real for that. Bishop is an amazing antagonist like holy shit it may just be my bias but idk she got me tweaking. Of course you got the OG characters like Jekyll and Hyde, although I must admit Jekyll was fucking tweaking lawd that wasn't Jekyll that was his evil brother Jackson.

Art is really good too! Crack was working solo on this project and their art is soooo good, not Maha's painted style but it definitely works for the setting. The watercolor makes sure its not visually boring. The gameplays really fun! If a bit difficult, but I managed to finish the game 3 days after release. It's refreshing after the previous interactive book style games we had before. Honestly I'd reccomend it to any new MazMians and it's very easy to get into :) It's like MazM's tribute to JNH which made them popular in the first place.

2. It's Pechka time. Pechkas all over the place.

Ok ok so. I'd actually say Pechka is a masterpiece. Like literally nothing wrong with it story/characterwise. The story isn't as weak as HNS and it takes itself a lot more seriously. It is MazMs first historical game and it is really educational! Korean rebellion in Russia is a very interesting topic to explore. I didn't even know about it till I played this game.

It was their passion project, it's clear they were very excited to share a story that dealt with their culture so personally. The love shows through the research and dedication they put into it. The characters are sos so so gooood like. Back when I was smaller, I used to scoff at Pyotr for being selfish but. Nowadays hes my poor meow meow malewife. He'd do rounds on tumblr if he was popular. Asya too theyre literally the malewife girlboss dynamic. Pyotr and Asyas relationship is so fucking complicated but lawd they compliment each other perfectly. Daejin, Lizaveta, and Kyuhan have such a sweet story together and just. Aughhhhh.

The art done by Maha and Crack is interesting. The art style uses hatching and it's more simplistic compared to the painted art styles of prior. They primarily focused on making sure the characters actually looked ethnic Korean. The colors assigned to each characters omg... I LOVE WHEN CHARACTERS HAVE A SIGNATURE COLOD THAT REPRESENTS THEM TO A T! The CG cards at the end though... THERES NO HAPPY ENDINGS!!! Some are more bittersweet/neutral. But I think the CG cards do have a wide range of emotions and effectively carry the endings well.

The only problem of this game is the coins which makes it rlly tedious. Pechka is a bit slow burn, so the fact you can only play 2 eps a day is a bit... of a drag. Theres like 10 endings and no log to keep track of what dialouge youve gone through. Like i get you cant replay it without replaying the entire story bc of the endings system unlike jnh or poto or hns but at the very least i wish there was a log to keep track. The footnotes too like, we cant even replay induvidual episodes to find more footnotes which is a bit infurating. It follows the interactive book style of the previous games but the 10 endings give it a new twist.

But yeah on a technical level i might rate it the same level if not higher than hns. Just with hns i found more enjoyment and not many faults :)

3. Thy Creature,,,

Lawd I think you all know how I feel abt Thy Creature. But I'll break it down. Early access Thy Creature had so much potential to be a modern masterpiece it's actually unreal. It was doing something new by being a midquel game rather than prequel/sequel/1 to 1 adaptation. The idea of the bosses representing concepts and characters is genius. They messed up once they realized they didn't have enough time to do all they could n its a shame. I wish it could've gotten delayed just so the writing would be baked properly. Story is a lost cause </3 With characters, the characters are good! However. In the new version, EA characters such as Noah, Justine, and Creature, have been character assasinated. Noah got away just barely because his new iteration is not all bad, Justine's character stayed relatively the same however her feelings towards the Creature have been tampered quite a bit. A lot of the Creature's moral dilemmas are stripped away and it is far more emotionless in the new version which SUCKS. Noah and the Creature had such an interesting dynamic in the early version and it had been removed in the final cut </3.

Character motivations have been completely hidden as the new memory system doesn't give them induvidual reactions to memories which SUCKS. Like. Noah lashed out at the Creature because he realized he had forgotten about his beloved orphanage. YOU DON'T GET THAT IN THE NEW VERSION </3333. They made 701 eviller rather than sympathetic in the final version too </3 The characters that were introduced in the final version are just fine though, perhaps because we didn't lose anything, only gained. Leon is a ray of sunshine, Hanna is a milf, Alex is a badass, Ben is sympathetic etc etc They're like a family :) The boss battles r so cool too... Only gripe is EL is a fascinating character and died too soon to feel attachment to.

The art is fucking gorgeous, Maha primarily worked on the art until Crack finishsd HNS and joined 6 months before release. Unfortunately this is the last MazM game the two worked on as they have left the company due to overwork. Their art is practically one of the lead contributions to why people like MazM so much. Thy Creature is beautiful. I like the earlier concepts better with the sketchy/horror aspects, but the new polished art is just as good. The bullet hell gameplay is a neat mechanic! If only it weren't so hard :(((. In demo traliers there was a concept for having text slide across the screen and scenes playing out during the bullet hell. The bullets would be words and you as a player would have to pay attention to the story thats playing out while dodging, which is a fascinating concept too! But, that sort of thing would be very difficult for certain disabilities and just in general hard to deal with, so I understand why they removed it.

This game was not meant to educate like Pechka, but rather be moving. There are no footnotes like the other game which is fine like it is its own thing. I still think it's a lot of fun. Team MazM put their heart in it just like they did with Pechka, it's worth a try if one likes bullet hells :).

4. Phantom of the Opera let's go!!! 🌊🐴 juan

Lawd you guys know how I feel abt it too. But I'll break it down. Story for the first half is book accurate but the second... The changes are uhm. A decision alright. Not a good one but they're there. I did enjoy it a lot but I will admit the quality is a bit meh. It was my first MazM game so there is my bias. Although shoutout to Daroga for going "shut up white boy" to Raoul when he was being a bitch abt SWA. MazM took an anti-racist stance and they are so real for that. The fact they added the Daroga in the first place is good but, they fucking blame him for Erik's actions when whatever Erik did was his own fault??? But also they made Eriks backstory darker and had the audacity to be like. Actually no one hates you for your face Erik lol. Like??? NO???? HE HAS CLEARLY BEEN SUBJECTED TO IMMENSE PERSECUTION FOR LOOKING LIKE THAT HIS TRAUMA ISN'T HIS FAULT??? But I unironically like the episode where they unionize against the shitty managers. First Pay and A Strike is one of the better episodes. They have two endings, one is canon compliant where Raoulstine run away together, and the other is where they go their seperate ways. I think the addition of that second ending is a cool one and brings to mind new opportunities!

For characters, I think the character added to background characters like the dancers and Remy are pretty fun though! The managers are eh tbh like they shouldn't have been that malicious + the accidental racism with Carlotta and Melek. Melek... dear sweet Melek... she is a good character on her own just not in the story she's placed in. Her existence defeats the purpose of the story. She exists as a prop to make Erik look worse which. </3 Erik and Christine are the most butchered characters here like Raoul took their character development. Erik lost all his compassion, becoming a whiny baby. This defeats the purpose in the og book where he shows mercy to Christine by letting her go because she gave him a single act of compassion. The point of POTO was showing compassion and mercy and he just has none of those???? Christine had been reduced to a naive girl that needed to be taught to be strong via Melek. And i know Melek was portrayed as the one in the right and all but they fact they made a brown woman tell a white woman to toughen up leaves a bad taste in my mouth. She shouldn't have been used as a prop like that. I think it's purely accidental how this came off. But yeah Christine in the OG book, she was strong! She told Raoul to piss off many times, her strength was by showing compassion. She threw her fear aside to give a kiss to her captor!!! Raoul here is the best like hands down. I can write an essay for him later but his character development is the best and he is oddly realistic. I think a problem with the og Raoul (reason ppl can't side with him) is the fact his character doesn't translate well through time. Someone made a wonderful post abt og Raoul here! Give it a read it's good. The way MazM translated Raoul is fitting, as he gets far pushier than OG Raoul to some degree, but his development at the end is quite cathartic. They made Raoul sympathetic in another way which could be relatable for some. The OG Raoul was "attractive" because he was willing to give his honod and status away for a lower class woman. MazM Raoul plays with that idea, by placing more pressure on Raoul and making him unhappy with his situation. He is forced by his family to be perfect for them when he is a child at heart. He loves Christine because she is freeing for him. He is a good person, he just lets obsession cloud his judgement. He is the perfect foil to Erik here and just. Yeah I'll get my essay going soon. Not here. Not here.

Art is fucking gorgeous, Maha and Crack worked on it together but IMO Maha takes more prominence with their art style as the painted looks of the cg cards perfectly match the aesthetic. The backgrounds are BEAUTIFUL. The character designs are lovely. Erik is book accurate minus for the color of his mask. He is monstrous and it's awesome. Christine is blonde, just like the book! The starry look of her hair is unusual to people but it's a game, like whatever looks cool yk? It's beautiful she's beautiful. And we can't forget Jimin Raoul. What a look. They were originally gonna make Christine and Raoul both blonde but probably changed hair colors to make sure they didn't look too alike. I think the pink hair does give Raoul the perfect sweet vibes, even if it's a bit outrageous, it's funny and iconic!!! It also puts a nice duality theme between him and Erik, pink and black my beloved. The dancers are cute, love you Jammes. Remy... lawd i want him. The managers look French.

For gameplay, you have the interactive book format, which again isn't too engaging for me, but it's a good casual game and I think good for newcomers as well because the art is appealing. Coin system is meh but tbh better than Pechka. The footnotes are a lot of fun! Interesting stuff to know like. What's in gunpowder, what the fuck is eugenics, etc etc. But it does hilight the footnote system which helps to provide social context and consume in a new light :)

5. Jekyll jekyll hyde jekyll hyde jeky

I don't hate Jekyll and Hyde, it just doesn't capture my interest like the others do. It's not bad at all and one can argue it's better than POTO but. Idk not for me. The story is pretty book accurate with the characters being canon compliant. It's not a bad thing bc POTO was kind of a shitstorm with the changes made, but I don't feel as engaged. Again it's all up to taste. It just feels like MazM didn't bring anything too new to the table which is alright. This is the game that brought MazM to relevance so ofc, it's a special lil guy :)

Art is done solely by Maha but lawd it is GORGEOUS. DILFS FOR DAYS!!! Cg cards are wonderfully composed, sells the atmosphere of the story. Chibis are so silly, it's like Don't Starve.

The gameplay is the interactive book style and uhhh, idk it's okay. Again nothing to write home about. It's a nice game to play on a rainy day :)

Honorable mention: Heartless

I found heartless on qooapp and while I can't play Yellow Bricks, I'll give my 2 cents on heartless.

I have heard the Wizard of Oz games MazM made are quite book accurate. I haven't read Wizard of Oz yet so I can't give my two cents on that. I'll give my two cents on how I felt.

Heartless/Yellow Bricks were MazMs first games. You can definitely tell the influence it has on their other games. How the story is paced etc etc. It's more child-friendly than their later games, but still has quite a bit of grimness to it. After all, it's about the tin man. Maha's art is so so so diff than it is now, YB/Heartless has a far cuter atmosphere where both the sprites and the chibi sprites are both, well, cute. Nicholas... sweet guy </3. Admittedly he does look like a child when he's an adult but they had a vibe to keep up. The witch is a milf. The gameplay is the interactive book style but it leans more into interactive imo. The minigames where you run away are reused in POTO where you run from the flaming skull. But uh in Heartless, YOU RUN AWAY FROM THE AXE THAT'S HACKING AWAY AT NICK. 😟

It's a ministory to explain what's with the tin soldier and oh boy with the short time it had, it pulled at my heart strings and never let go </3. Fun thing. Anyways. The footnotes system don't give any context metawise, just ingame stuff. Which isn't a bad thing as some people are unfamiliar with Wizard of Oz lore so it's good to fill them in on it.

[bi-bats]

ok so. long list, you can pick and choose, yknow the drill. im a curious person. anyways!!! for the ask game: 7, 10, 25, 26, 35, 43, 48, 65, and Get It Together, Boys for 76, please! <3 <3 <3

Bean, you are such a gift 💖 We all know I'm going to answer all of these, both for you and because they're fun!!!

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

The POV chooses me actually 😂 it's never really something I consciously decide? There's usually just someone whose inner dialogue I think we need to be hearing the most and that's usually the POV I slide to (which has also backfired on me before, because when I wrote the first chapter of the chokehold damitim fic it wasn't supposed to be damitim at all but being in Damian's perspective made me realize it had to be adkjfadsjkfl I'm gonna have to stay out of Damian's perspective in the jaytim version tbh)

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

The damitim fic is actually literally the only fic with unposted content that has the word blinks in it?? This is from the next chapter:

Tim looks up at him, rolls his eyes in a flash of green, and sighs, “Jesus, Damian. I’m an adult, I can cross the street without you holding my fucking hand.”  Damian blinks at him once, twice, and then he moves. He walks around Tim, leaving him in front of the bed, and feels Tim’s eyes on him as he makes his way to the microwave and pulls out his dinner.

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

What Are You Waiting For? Honestly I just love the way it flows and the writing, but also it isn't finished and I haven't updated it in like two months so I'm not really surprised lmao

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

probably Non-Refundable Plans because the way it keeps bouncing from funny to serious and also all of the unhinged behavior from everyone all around 😂 I would make an argument for Rooftops and Bookshops because of the before and after, but I also hate the writing in that fic now. Seriously, it's one of my least favorite works now.

What I can tell you is that the fic that will be the wildest ride is Know Yourself. No doubt in my mind.

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain? 

The villain HAS TO HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR DOING WHAT THEY'RE DOING!!!! This is SO important to me. "Every villain is the hero of their own story" NO. NO THEY AREN'T. THEY DON'T NEED TO BE! SOME VILLAINS ARE TOTALLY FINE BEING THE VILLAIN AND I LOVE THAT FOR THEM!! IT'S ACTUALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES "YOU WANT ME TO BE THE BAD GUY? FINE." LIKE YESDSSSDDFSDFAJFJK AS LONG AS THEY CAN JUSTIFY THEIR ACTIONS TO THEMSELVES THAT IS A GOOD VILLAIN. WE JUST NEED TO UNDERSTAND WHY THEY'RE DOING WHAT THEY'RE DOING.

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

Oh, I saw this question and was like "there's no way anyone doesn't know the answer to this." 😂 I whump them to death daily. I whump them for breakfast, I whump them at work, I whump them while I'm sleeping. I'm actually whumping them rn in my head tbh 💖 Sadistic joy. It's like a stim toy to me.

48. What do you look for in a beta?

Someone who's going to be honest! Point out my typos, tell me if phrasing is clunky or doesn't work, tell me if a CHUNK of writing isn't necessary and needs to go. I want to make it better. But it is also lovely to hear the things that work! I basically love a beta who points out the things they like just as much as the things they don't (which doesn't necessarily mean it has to be an even mix instead of one more than the other, I just think of it like an art critique)

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I'm looking forward to GETTING MY SHIT TOGETHER ON THE KONBART FIC I REALLY WANT TO FINISH IT AJKSDFALSK I LOVE WRITING BART AND I LOVE WRITING KON AND I LOVE WRITING THEM BEING IN LOVE

76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of Get It Together, Boys? 

I wrote that fic in like three days aksdjflaks honestly not really? But looking back at it, I would've really liked to dig into their book club a little! It would've been fun to show some of their conversations about books.

Thank you thank you thank you Bean 💖 I hope you enjoyed the responses!!

[soverywitty]

I was tagged in 15 questions for 15 mutuals by @tadpal

I'm tagging @no-lava @salamancialilypad @justslowdown @colossalcryptid @aggressivebutterflies @thatsthenorthstar, sorry I know that's only 6 people, I just don't have a lot of mutuals on my main.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yeah. I was named after Katharine Hepburn. My middle name comes from my great grandma Gertrude's maiden name, and I'm planning to legally change my first name to my great grandfather's once I get the money and paperwork together.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Ooooh fuck, I cry a lot tbh. Last seriously bad cry was probably 3 weeks ago? It was around the time I left my job, it was super stressful. Since then, I think I cried most recently a little over a week ago. April 29th marked one year since we had to put our older dog down.

3. Do you have kids?

No! Thank god. I love kids, but only in small doses. I have a little sister who's 7 who I love to absolute death, but after a week visiting her, I feel like I need to just lay in a quiet dark room for a week straight.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I exaggerate and use hyperbole more than I use sarcasm. Like I use it occasionally, but when I'm going for comedic effect I tend to use the other tools in my arsenal.

5. What sports have you played?

I'm gonna be real, I have never been a sports girlie. If ballet counts, I did ballet when I was little.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about someone?

Hair and clothes. I guess, style in general. I'm decently faceblind, so faces don't tend to register much unless they're pretty distinctive. I'm very much a person that'll notice what you're wearing and stop to give you a compliment if I like it.

7. Eye Color?

Blue, but specifically, blue enough that I made having blue eyes part of my personality when I was younger

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I like scary movies, but only as long as they have a happy ending. I don't like any movies that end where everyone's miserable and everything's shitty and sad.

9. Any special talents?

Uhmmmm, not really? Like, there's not really anything I can think of off the top of my head.

10. Where were you born?

I was born in a decent sized city in the Southeast US. I still live there, and it's not too bad a place to live, but as soon as you leave the city and surrounding suburbs shit gets real rural and real conservative, real quick.

11. What are your hobbies?

Honestly, I fly through hobbies like nobodies business, I have ADHD, so I tend to hyperfocus and then get bored really quickly. The majority of my hobbies tend to be crafty stuff, but hiking and other outdoorsy stuff is another thing I love. Fashion and style and design stuff is a big passion of mine. Right now, I've been locked in on houseplants and stuff related to them. I have maybe 20(?) or so, and I also have terrariums, and a planted aquarium.

12. Do you have any pets?

Yes! I have my sweet little Persie dog(follow us on @pomegranatepup), and I also have aquatic snails right now. I feel like all the plants I have should also count as having pets, but whatever.

13. How tall are you?

5'6"! I always try and lie and say I'm taller than that, but I'm really, really not. I'm mad about it because I feel like I definitely had the potential to be taller than I am.

14. Fave subject in school?

English! I was one of those gay bitches that'd be obsessed with their english teachers. My english teachers would have to give me advanced material because I'd finish and get bored so quickly with the english assignments we were given. I was also constantly reading books in class and getting in trouble for it. I know it's not the question, but my least favorite had to have been math, I failed algebra 1 like 3 times. Kind of embarassing, but I had undiagnosed dyscalcula, so whatever...

15. Dream job?

Right now, I want to someday open and run my own bakery or cafe, maybe a coffee shop. My current plan is to go to culinary school for pastry arts and go from there. I've been working as a baker for the past 4 years or so. Honestly, my real dream job is being a worthless layabout. If someone handed me 10 million dollars today, that would be amazing.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Nine-pt1) (Final)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, protected sex, jealous!oc, sensual touching, dry humping, oral (female rec.) face riding

Notes: The end is finally here! But no worries I will most likely do drabbles for you guys:) Thank you SO much for reading this story and sending so many loving comments. Enjoy this last chapter of ‘Always You’ and feel free to send me an ask to chat about the story, I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @hsneptune @betysotelo18 @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @bunnyjeonjk @surfacesanity @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19 @hardcarrykookie @fancycollectormoon

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous ---Next

~~~~~~~~~

December

Jungkook stares into his bathroom mirror and sees and feels nothing, absolutely nothing. He looks into his eyes and see nothing behind them. He tries to smile, but falls short. Does this have anything to do with the fact he told you he loves you but you completely misunderstood him? Yup, it probably has everything to do with that.

But Jungkook also feels like shit. He let his feelings become too overwhelming in the moment that he totally and completely forgot he has a girlfriend. So, he is almost glad that you most definitely thought he was just telling you he loves you like one normal friend to another instead of him confessing his deep and passionate feelings towards you. Yup, totally glad.

So, now he looks into the mirror and actually does see and feel something: Shame. Guilt.

And regret. Regret is written all over his face. Not regret because he told you he loves you, no. Regret that he didn’t tell you 4 years ago how he feels. Even if you didn’t feel the same he thinks he should have had the courage, instead he slept with you like a fucking idiot. But that is something he can’t get himself to regret at all…he just can’t regret that amazing night he shared with you.

“Bro! You have been in there for like ever dude, I gotta take a piss!” Jungkook hears Nick from the other side of the door, his insistent banging going completely ignored by Jungkook.

“Seriously man, I will pee in the fucking sink!” Nick threatens and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah man, I’m coming.” He looks into the mirror one last time before taking one deep breath and turning towards the bathroom door.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Jungkook says as he opens the door with Nick already pushing past him.

“Fucking finally!” Nick doesn’t even bother to shut the door behind him as he quickly approaches the toilet to release himself.

Jungkook walks into his room and pulls out his phone as he sits on the edge of his bed. He goes through his message threads, his fingers hovering over your name when he gets to you.

It’s been a few weeks since the trip to your parent’s house. He had such an amazing time. That Saturday your mom cooked one of her famous homemade meals…something Jungkook hasn’t really had in years. Your dad would casually slip in the word ‘son’ in conversation, making Jungkook’s heart glow. You laughed and talked and cried and just looked so at home the entire time, like all your worries were vanishing.

He knows you’re struggling with what to do…but going abroad? Were you serious? You mentioned it to your parents too while there visiting and they loved the idea…making Jungkook’s heart sink. They just encouraged you more while you were there…telling you it was such a fun, and great idea and that it totally suits you. This only made you feel more motivated…Jungkook could see that.

Jungkook wants nothing but the best for you…he just wants you to be happy. Your happiness is his happiness but how could he survive if you left? How could he go a day without seeing you? Or worse…a week? A month? A whole fucking year? He went three months without you and he spiraled pretty bad.

Jungkook continues to sit here, his fingers right over your name and he clicks it.

Jungkook 8:14pm

I have a cold beer with your name on it

y/n 8:21pm

:( I cant hang tonight, sorry boo…im hanging with yoongs and tae. You can come by if youd like to?

Jungkook 8:22pm

No no its okay, you have fun :))

Jungkook brings his phone to his chest, right over his beating heart and he sighs out in frustration. Why can’t everything just be easy? Why is everything so complicated?

~~~~~~~

“And I will be the youngest curator they’ve ever had at this museum!” Tae finishes proudly, cheering his wine glass with yours and Yoongi’s.

“That’s so amazing Tae.” You bring your glass back to your mouth and take a gulp in his honor.

“Proud of you, kid.” Yoongi smiles fondly at Taehyung and you can’t help but also feel very proud. Taehyung got offered the main curator position at the museum of art downtown and you three are at the record shops cozy corner celebrating.

“Anything else new going on?” Taehyung asks, he eyes both you and Yoongi. “Like, any new love interests? Job offers? Juicy drama? Literally anything.”

“Nothing from me.” You laugh, you and Taehyung look over at Yoongi who is sipping his wine with the biggest blush painted on his cheeks.

“Yoongi?” you pry. “Did something new happen with you?”

“Well…I wouldn’t really call it news.” He begins shyly, “But I maybe met someone.”

You and Taehyung share a look of shock and excitement.

“Wait dude, you mean like a romantic interest?” Taehyung asks, setting his glass down on the table.

“Yeah, like you have a crush on someone?” You smile at Yoongi and his blush deepens.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he admits, “But they’re really nice and have been coming in the store every week and we sort of just end up talking…and they asked for my number—”

“This is definitely a romantic interest!” Taehyung basically shouts. “Did you give it?”

“Yes…” Yoongi takes another sip of his wine, his eyes sliding to the side. “Did I mention they’re cute?”

“You in fact, did not mention that.” You say with a grin. “I’m happy for you Yoongs.”

“I think I’ll ask them out, what do you guys think?” Yoongi whispers.

“I think that’s a great idea man!” Taehyung basically shouts again and you laugh.

“I think I really admire you for going for it…” You sigh. You wish you had that kind of courage.

“You know…” Yoongi sets his wine glass down, and turns in his seat to face you, “It takes a lot of bravery to open up to someone…it takes a lot of strength to admit when you’re wrong and to admit when things aren’t going right. It takes real courage to open your heart to someone like, romantically. You’re like, the coolest human being in the world if you can do those things.” Yoongi folds his hands out in front of him, he bites his lip as he thinks.

“y/n…you don’t have to be some sort of super human.”

You tilt your head in confusion…you thought Yoongi was going to a place where he tells you to go for it too.

“You shouldn’t always be the one doing things. Others need to form the courage too. You’re worth it. You’re worth that risk…that you may not feel the same. Trust me, I would know.” He chuckles light heartedly. “I think he will come around.”

“I don’t know about that.” Taehyung cuts in. “I want to believe he will but…” Taehyung looks over at you with pity. “…He’s…” Taehyung doesn’t know what to say without spilling anything so he decides to let the words die on his tongue.

“To be honest with you guys…” You reach for your glass of wine and chug back the remainder of what’s in the glass rather quickly before slamming it back down on the table.

“New Year’s Eve.” You say. “Four years ago. Something happened. Something major, he…”

“Four years ago, New Year’s Eve?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together as he tilts his head. “Wait something happened between you two?” you only nod your head at Taehyung’s question.

“Did Jungkook say what he wanted to say?” Taehyung asks with big eyes, completely shocked, this is news to him. But now it’s your turn to tilt your head in confusion.

“Say what he wants to say? What are you talking about?”

“Huh? Uh,” Taehyung guesses it’s not what he’s thinking. “It’s nothing. So what happened?”

“We slept together.” You blurt out quickly, giving yourself no time to regret it.

You hear Yoongi chuckle from beside you and you snap your head in his direction.

“What? What’s so funny?” you ask.

“You thought I didn’t already assume that? That you two haven’t already slept together?”

“Damn,” you say, “Observant as usual.”

“WAIT WHAT?” Taehyung sputters out, quite fucking loudly.

You guess Taehyung isn’t as observant.

“We got kind of drunk, kissed at midnight and went back to his dorm and you know…”

Realization hits Taehyung hard. When Jungkook was pissed about the fact Taehyung slept with you it wasn’t just because he was some heroic friend. It was also because Jungkook has already had you and he knows he doesn’t like to share. Fuck.

“Holy fuck, y/n.” Taehyung closes his eyes for a moment, “Wait, and you guys didn’t talk about it after? Didn’t he have something to tell you perhaps?”

“What are you talking about? He totally brushed it off. So I got bitter and didn’t talk to him for a month. Now we just…I don’t know, we just…I feel like we are more than friends but less than lovers.”

“Makes total sense.” Yoongi adds, “You two are that but more than anything you two are complete and total idiots.” “Well, that we can agree on.” Taehyung grins.

~~~~~~

It’s the middle of December meaning it’s time to do your Christmas shopping! You, Trina and Holly are at the mall perusing around and trying to find the perfect gifts.

“Let’s do what we always do y/n.” Trina bumps her elbow into your side, with a smile on her face.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You respond.

“And what do you two always do?” Holly asks, feeling a little left out.

“Oh you know, we agree to no presents.” You say, “One less person to stress over, that’s our gift to each other.”

“Wow.” Holly deadpans, “You guys are so lame.”

“Or are we geniuses?” Trina asks with a grin, she walks closer to Holly and links arms with her, “But don’t worry Hol, I am getting you something.”

“Good.” Holly says, a shy smile making its way on her face.

“Me too!” you say trying to include yourself. “What would you like anyway? Just show me and I’ll buy it for you!”

“That takes out all the fun in gift giving.” Holly pouts, “It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

“Ah, fuck.” Trina spits out, “I suck at gift giving. Just tell us what you want.” She whines.

“No!” Holly laughs. “Look, I’ll be back.” She gestures towards her left, “I gotta use the bathroom.” She waves at you and Trina and walks away.

“Dude what am I going to get Holly?” Trina asks you, her frustration as clear as day. “It’s got to be special.” She adds in shyly. Special? Now’s your time to finally ask her what is up with her and Holly.

“Why special?”

“Oh you know.” Trina’s sheepish grin gives her away. “I don’t got to say it, when you know.”

“Fair enough.” You laugh. “Oh!” you point towards the window of one of the stores to your right, “You see those mugs? Let’s go check them out.”

“What why?”

“Christmas gift.” You say simply.

You both walk towards the glass window and eye the mugs, there’s a whole bunch but there’s a mug with music notes all over it and you’re reminded of the record shop and your two friends. You walk inside and grab three of them. Yes, three matching mugs for you, Yoongi and Taehyung. Even though Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee, he can still put whatever beverage he wants inside.

You pay for the mugs and have them wrapped in Christmas paper! You got some of your first gifts done with! Now you need to find something for Jimin, Jungkook, Holly and your parents. Crap, should you get something for the rest of the boys too? You’ll be seeing them on New year’s…maybe you’ll get them all scarves. That’s easy.

Jimin is easy, you know he’s been eyeing this channel necklace for far too long and you happen to be able to afford it for him. Jungkook isn’t easy at all. So you go with something simple, a new pair of chunky black boots that he’s been talking about for months. Your mom gets a necklace with her birth flower and your dad gets tickets to his favorite sports team…cheap tickets, sorry to your dad. Holly loves penguins so you find a cute penguin pin for her purse, you think she will love it.

Shopping takes almost the whole day, you, Trina and Holly are seated in the malls food court sipping on a smoothie.

“I am so freaking tired.” Holly leans her head on Trina’s shoulder as she speaks.

“Me too, girl, me too.” You respond. “But Christmas is soon!”

“Are you guys excited about going home?” you ask.

“Yeah, my parents promised they would take me ice skating like when I was a kid.” Trina chuckles.

“I’m excited too! What about you y/n?” Holly lifts her head from Trina. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Going home, of course. I’m bringing Jungkook with me.” You admit with a soft smile, “My mom and dad love him, they practically beg me every week on the phone that I bring him.”

“You guys are such a couple.” Trina rolls her eyes playfully.

“We’re best friends! He doesn’t have parents to spend it with so he’s coming with me, is that such a crime?” you say lightly.

“No, no. Of course not.” Trina rolls her eyes again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys get together during your trip.”

“Need I remind you he has a girlfriend?”

~~~~~~~~

Jungkook slides his dick in and out of Vanessa as she clenches around him, he holds her body up as he fucks her from behind. He’s been at it for a while but…

“I’m going to come!” She moans out, “Please tell me you’re close!”

“I—I” Jungkook tries fucking her faster and harder as she comes undone. But Jungkook is still trying, he’s fucking struggling. He screws his eyes shut and thrusts into Vanessa at a fast and hard rate but nothing is working.

“Sorry…sorry.” Jungkook begins to slow down, “I can’t. I just can’t” He admits, totally defeated. He’s tired. He eventually comes to a stop, and pulls out.

“I’m sorry Vanessa.” He says quietly, “It’s not you, I promise.” His voice is hoarse.

Vanessa stands and walks to the bathroom to clean herself up, when she returns she sees Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his pants back on.

“It’s okay, Jungkookie.” Vanessa’s smooth voice doesn’t waver as she speaks, “It happens.”

Jungkook runs his hands down his tired face before looking up at Vanessa, his eyes slightly watery.

“This isn’t fair for you, I should be able to fucking come.” He grits out. “At the fucking least.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“How are you so calm about this? Hm?”

Vanessa sits on the edge of the bed next to Jungkook, she breathes in and out before raising her head to speak to him.

“He wants to get back together with me, you know.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at her words. She couldn’t be talking about her ex, could she?

“Vanessa—”

“It’s okay. I said I no. Somehow I feel okay.” She smiles at him, it isn’t one of those coy or secretive smiles she mostly hands out but a real genuine smile.

“I think I just feel good that he wants me again but now I have the upper hand, you know? I’m the one with power.”

“You told him no?”

“And not even because I am supposed to be your girlfriend…but because I decided I need to respect myself. You’re right…what I was doing…it wasn’t healthy.” She admits, she shakes her head to rid herself of her bangs that keep falling in her eyes.

“I…I’m proud of you.”

“I want to be proud of you too.” She whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” she says quietly, “You’ll see eventually.”

“What does that me—”

“Let’s take a small break.” Vanessa tilts her head to get a quick look at him, “Just until New Year’s.”

“Vanessa—”

“We just need some time to like, miss each other? You know?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “You mean, break up?”

“Just a break. But technically yes, we aren’t together in the meantime.”

“Why?” Jungkook stands up, “We can make this work Vanessa.”

“Please stop.” Vanessa says more sternly. “It’s what I want. Just until New Year’s.”

Jungkook paces back and forth with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t understand why she wants this? Because he couldn’t come? All because of that? He stops pacing to stare at her and she’s already looking up at him with a sickingly sweet smile.

“Fine.” He says. “If that’s—that’s what you want.” He clears his throat and tries smiling for her, she all but nods her head.

~~~~~~~

“You ready?” you ask Jungkook when he walks up to your car. You came to pick him up, insisting that you drive this time.

“Yeah.” Jungkook shows you his bunny grin and you melt, you love that smile of his. He sets his bag in the backseat and walks over to the passenger door and sits down inside.

“I’m excited to spend Christmas with you and your family.”

“Oh, it’s going to be a handful. You’ll be meeting my grandma, some aunts and uncles and some cousins of mine.”

“And I cannot wait.” He repeats. “Do you have my Christmas present here in the car?” he smiles cheekily, “Just give it to me now.”

“Yeah, right. You have to wait until tomorrow dummy!”

“Hey, don’t call me a dummy.” Jungkook pouts. He leans back in the passenger’s seat and closes his eyes.

“Hey, you’re not thinking of taking a nap are you?” You reverse your car out of the parking spot at his apartment.

“Maybe.” Jungkook snickers from beside you, “If you don’t want me falling asleep, tell me something interesting.”

“I think I want to work on getting a TEFL.” You blurt out, “To you know, teach.”

Jungkook’s eyes stay shut as he processes your words, he thinks to himself carefully—he can’t react negatively. He can’t.

“That’s nice, y/n.” He settles for. “You’ll like it.”

“That’s it?” you twist your head to look in his direction, he opens his eyes and stares at you for a few moments.

“Eyes on the road.” Jungkook closes his eyes again.

“Jungkook…you aren’t sad I might be moving away for like, at least a year?” You grip the steering wheel tighter, “You know I would be leaving right?”

“What do you want me to say y/n?” Jungkook opens his eyes and leans forward, “Want me to tell you no? That you aren’t allowed to leave?”

“Well…no. But you could act like you care a little.” You whisper out in pout.

“I do care.” Jungkook huffs, “But I just want you to do whatever makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.”

Jungkook quirks a brow and smiles, “So, you want to do me?”

“Gross,” you reach over and hit his arm. “You know what I mean. I just…I mean I value your opinion.”

Jungkook’s smile begins to fade as he stares at the cars floorboard. He zones out for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say. While it is true he wants you to do whatever makes you happy he also doesn’t want you to go anywhere.

“Do what’s best for you baby.” He all but whispers. “I will believe in you and support you no matter what.”

“I guess I’ll take that for now.” You whine. “How’s work going for you?”

“It’s good.” Jungkook’s eyes light up, “The director is letting me edit some pretty important scenes.” He gushes. “I brought my work stuff so I can show you over the next couple of days.”

“Yeah? That sounds exciting Jungkook!”

You finally merge on the high way for your few hour trip, you got your ‘Chillin’ playlist on and a few snacks on hand. You and Jungkook chit chat every so often but you mostly jam to the music.

“Let’s listen to Disney radio station!” You hand Jungkook your phone, “Hurry, put it.”

Jungkook takes your phone with a grin and selects the Disney option on pandora, the first song to come on is Lion King’s ‘Hakuna Matata’. You and Jungkook sing your hearts out, smiling, giggling and belting out the notes.

A couple hours pass like this, your throat getting admittedly sore. But Jungkook on the other hand is still going strong, he is singing all the parts in ‘Kiss the Girl’ with such passion…you can’t help but chuckle as you listen to him.

“Phew, I am worn out!” you say, laughing. “But I see you can keep going?” you turn the volume down.

“Oh, we can switch it up…but to answer the question you know I can keep going.” He winks. And you know he meant that innocently but you can’t help but blush.

“Right.” You hand him your phone again, “Our trip is almost over…you can just put on a playlist.”

“Are you excited to see your parents again?”

“Well, I just saw them last month…but yes.” You admit, “Being home is always nice. My parents have been bothering me for weeks making sure you are actually coming with me for Christmas.” You chuckle, “They’ll be glad to see you.”

Jungkook grabs a hold of his ears in excitement, you can tell he’s genuinely happy as he sits here and smiles that smile.

“I’m glad to see them too. And I am excited to meet more of your family.”

“There will probably be misunderstandings…but don’t worry, I will make it clear we are just friends.” You nod your head as you speak. Jungkook just shrugs in response, just fucking shrugs.

“Isn’t that your house up there on the corner?” Jungkook points forward towards the house.

“Yup.”

When you pull into the driveway your parents are making their way outside, they smile at you and you wave from inside your car. You turn it off and turn to face Jungkook.

“You ready?”

“Yes.” He grins.

You step out of your car and your mom and dad are rushing to bring you in for a hug, they hold you close and you feel yourself feeling right at home. You begin to pull away and head towards the backseat when your mom grabs your arm,

“You two can get your things later—before bed, before bed.” She guides you towards the house, “And hello, Jungkook.” She smiles widely, “So nice you are here again! Let’s go see everyone!”

“Yes mam.” Jungkook says with a small smile, he walks forward and shakes hands with your dad.

“Nice to see you again, son.”

“Yes sir, you too.”

“Stop being so formal!” you look back at him, teasing. You and your mom walk to the front door, waiting for your dad and Jungkook to catch up.

The four of you enter the house, it smells like pie and cookies and warmth and you know, like Christmas. You hear the chitter chatter of your relatives filling the house and you want to smile. You can hear your cousins gossiping in the kitchen, you hear their children playing in the backyard (The back door is open), you hear your grandma snoring on your dads recliner, while your aunt and uncle quietly talk on the other sofas. You hear what it’s like to feel at home.

“Look who is here, everyone!” Your mom announces obnoxiously. “It’s y/n and Jungkook!”

First your aunt and uncle’s attention are caught, they nod your way with smiles on their faces and you head over to the sofas to hug them each. Your grandma stays snoring on the recliner and you giggle, classic grandma.

Next, your cousins are coming in from kitchen. Three of them to be exact, Daniel and his wife Larissa and your other cousin who is your age Manny. Daniel and Larissa have 3 beautiful children who are playing in the back, you can hear their giggles from inside. Manny is much shorter than you, she’s petite and curvy and really, really pretty. You go in to hug her first, she wraps her arms around you loosely.

“y/n!” she yells excitedly, “It’s been since last Christmas right?!” she asks, still holding on to you.

“Something like that.” You giggle, “Hi Daniel, Larissa.” You go in to hug them as well.

“Guys this is Jungkook.” You finally introduce the awkward boy, he stands here swaying from side to side waiting to meet everyone. He bows his head in greeting and everyone says their hello’s. All except sleeping grandma.

“Well, hello.” Manny smiles at Jungkook, “I didn’t even see you there, which is crazy because you’re like crazy hot—”

“Okay, Manny.” You try cutting in early enough, but are a bit late.

“Oh?” Jungkook eyebrows climb to up his forehead as he looks at Manny.

“I’m Manny.” She winks, “ You must be y/n’s friend, I presume?”

“Uh…”

“y/n!!!!” Your grandma comes up to you all, her sweet perfume filling the air around you. “You’re here, sweetie.”

“Grandma!” you lean in and hug her frail body, she smells like she always has your whole entire life, sweet.

“And this must be your boyfriend, Jungkook? I have heard so much about you, dear.” Your grandmas opens her arms, signaling Jungkook to lean in and hug her—which he does.

“Actually grandma—”

“You finally have a nice boyfriend, your parents have told me all about him.” she winks, “I am so happy for you sweetie, I think I can finally rest easy.”

“Rest easy?” you question, “No grandma you are mis—”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles at your grandma and she cheeses hard.

“You can call me grandma, dear.” She pats his back lovingly, “I want to hear all about you two. Shall we drink some tea together?”

“Boyfriend?” Manny asks, confused. “I didn’t know you guys started dating?”

“We aren’t—”

“Its new.” Jungkook cuts in. He slides his arm around your waist and you audibly gasp.

“What’s new?” Your mom walks up to you all.

“They’re dating.” Manny says, looking unimpressed.

“WHAT! Darling, get in here!” She calls your dad over, “Jungkook and y/n are together, together!”

“No we are—” you try cutting in but you feel Jungkook dig his fingers into your waist.

“THEY’RE TOGETHER?!” Your dad yells out, his excitement clear as day. You stand here confused as hell as your whole family starts congratulating you two.

“Wait, wait.” You try getting out but Jungkook leans in to whisper in your ear.

“We can’t disappoint grandma.” He says softly.

~~~~~~

“I met my Roy at a party too.” Your grandma says between sips, she holds her tea in front of her face as she reminisces.

“Was it love at first sight?” Your grandma asks, wiggling her brows. “Me and my Roy didn’t get together for quite some time so I don’t think it was love at first sight for us…when did you know?”

“Grandma…” you begin, “Can we talk about something else?” you beg.

“I knew only a few months later.” Jungkook admits shyly, he smiles at your grandma while bringing his tea cup to his lips. “I knew no one could take y/n’s spot. But I was content with being friends.”

Your eyes grow in size, his confession warming you up. You know it’s all for show but you can’t help what it does to you.

“I also knew after a few months.” You say quietly.

“Oh, how lovely!” Your grandma claps her hands together softly, “And now here you are! Jungkook…” Your grandma sets down her tea cup and looks over at Jungkook. “I trust you will take care of y/n no matter what, right?”

“No matter what.” He says quickly. “She takes care of me too.”

“And how does she do that?” Your grandma raises a drawn on brow.

“She is always there for me…she always tries to understand me even when I am in the wrong…she always tries to get to know me like she doesn’t already know everything,” he chuckles, “She always hugs me when I need it.” Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, “She really loves me and I can feel it.” Then his mouth falls open and his eyes expand a little, “Do you… love me y/n? Like—”

“Okay, that’s enough about us babe,” you cut him off, “When did you get in town grandma?”

“Oh, just last night.” She mumbles, “I—”

“So,” Manny comes into the kitchen, her v neck lower than it was 20 minutes ago, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “What do you do Jungkook?” she leans down into his space, one hand squeezing his bicep as she asks her question.

“Um, I work as an editor for a film company.” His eyes shift to you and you roll your eyes again. “What about you?”

“Oh? Me? I work at a marketing firm. Was hoping to see y/n there.” She smiles at you. “But guess she didn’t apply? Maybe?”

“I didn’t get hired.” You state plainly. “But I didn’t want to work there anyway.” You grip your thigh in annoyance.

“y/n is probably too good for that company anyway.” Jungkook says, his hand reaches for yours and you relax a little bit.

“Right.” Manny nods her head exaggeratedly, “That’s got to be it…” she winks at you and you give a half ass smile.

“So Jungkook…” she finally takes a seat next to him, her hand still on his arm. “Film, huh? That’s soo cool. What do you do in your spare time?” she squeezes his bicep again, “Besides working out, of course.” She laughs.

Jungkook looks at you in panic, his eyes shifting from yours to his arm and you just roll your eyes.

“Manny.” You cut in, “How’s Luis?”

“Oh, we broke up.” She says smiling at Jungkook. “Nothing to worry about it.”

“And what’s to worry about,” you lean over and detach her fingers from Jungkook’s arm. “Hm?”

“Oh nothing.” Manny shakes her head.

“Manny, did you ever take my things out of the drier?” Your grandma speaks up, “Please put them in my room if you haven’t already.”

“Speaking of rooms.” Your mom and dad walk into the kitchen, their hands joined together.

“What?” you ask.

“Grandma is in Jungkook’s room. So Jungkook will have to stay in your room with you.” She says nonchalantly.

“Hm? Okay.” You shrug while Jungkook’s eyes widen just slightly. “Where are aunt and uncle sleeping? And Daniel and the rest? “Oh, we got a hotel.” Manny says, “Which sucks because it would have been fun to have a little slumber party.” She says in pout. You give her a tight smile and nod.

“Sure.” You get out, “Guess it’s just me and Jungkook for the slumber party.” You wink at her and Jungkook laughs as he squeezes your hand.

“Can’t wait baby.”

“Oh, you guys are gross.” Manny gags, “We get it.”

“Yeah, behave.” Your mom gives you a pointed look, “You’re still in your parent’s house.”

“Sorry, sorry. We’re just messing around.” You wave your hand, “Also, I can get your things from the drier grandma, I am going upstairs anyway to change.”

“Thank you sweetie.”

You let go of Jungkook’s hand as you stand up, he looks up at you in panic. You’re leaving him here with Manny?! He’s not stupid, this girl is clearly not caring about the whole boyfriend thing but he doesn’t want to make a scene by saying something to her.

“I’ll go with you.” Jungkook rushes to say earning strange looks from your parents. “Be—because I should bring up our bags from the car.”

“Ah, yes! That’s true, that’s true.” Your mom nods her head in agreeance, “You two go.”

Upstairs is much quieter, Jungkook thinks to himself. Just the background noise of muffled voices and occasional laughter. You two are in your childhood bedroom with both of your bags on your small bed. You are digging through your own luggage when you hear Jungkook clear his voice.

“What’s up?” you don’t look up to see him, you continue digging into your bag for some sleep shorts and a t shirt.

“This bed is tiny.” Jungkook groans, “How are we going to sleep on it?”

“I suppose one of us could make a palette on the flo—”

“—No.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I just mean, you’ll have to sleep super close to me.”

“That doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you suddenly?” you grab the small shorts from your bag and set them on the bed.

“W-What? No…” he admits shyly, his teeth on full display at he smiles at his own bag. “I was just saying.”

“Will Vanessa not like it?” you whisper as you find the t shirt. “Because—”

“Actually we—”

“—ask her?”

“No, it’s fine. Trust me.” Jungkook brings out his own change of clothes and stands here awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“I do trust you.” You breathe out, “We can just turn around and change.” You offer, already spinning on your heels and lifting your sweater over your head. Jungkook continues to stare at you until he’s hit with realization. He quickly turns around and starts changing as well.

“You sure let Manny touch you however she pleases.” You spit out quietly. Jungkook freezes mid shirt lift, his eyes growing in panic.

“It’s not that I was letting her…I just…I didn’t know what to do…I’m sorry—”

“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes even though he cannot see. “I’m just—it’s my fault. Me and Manny grew up together. The boy she liked in high school liked me…and ever since then she’s always…” you wiggle into your sleep shorts, slipping the material over your ass.

“Oh, I get it.” Jungkook slips on a new t shirt, “I’m done. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You both turn around, smiling sheepishly at one another. He’s wearing black sweats with a plain white t shirt and you in your sleep shorts you always use to wear around the apartment that use to drive Jungkook wild and one of his black t shirts.

“Hey, that’s mine.” He pouts, pointing at the shirt you’re wearing.

“Mine now.” You poke your tongue out. Jungkook pretends to reach over the bed to grab your tongue which makes you laugh.

“Don’t let Manny touch you again.” You blurt out, “I don’t like it.”

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip as he stares at you, he begins walking to the other side of the bed until he’s standing in front of you.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asks softly.

“It’s annoying to look at it.”

“It irritates you to see another girl touch me?”

“It’s irritating when that girl is my cousin.”

“Why does it matter who it is specifically?” Jungkook steps closer to you, he pushes his hands in his sweat pockets.

“I don’t want you to fuck my cousin, Jungkook. Sue me.” Your straightforwardness makes Jungkook chuckle.

“I wouldn’t fuck your cousin, y/n.”

“Yeah, because you have Vanessa.” You remind him.

“Actually we—”

“—we should head back downstairs.” You try pushing past him but he catches your wrist.

“Tell me why it irritates you so much.”

“I just don’t like it, Jungkook.” You huff.

“Are you perhaps jealous?” Jungkook lowers your wrist, but he doesn’t let go.

“Why would I be jealous?” You yank your wrist from his hold and push past him, walking towards your bedroom door. “Come on.”

You basically told him you weren’t jealous but why did it have to happen that when teams were being chosen for this game night, Jungkook and Manny would get paired together.

The universe is laughing at you. Manny is…shameless. She has no problem flirting with someone else’s man…you’re no exception. You can tell Jungkook is slightly uncomfortable and not really enjoying the attention but still, somehow you are fuming. It’s not like he’s being exceptionally nice to her, he’s just not being standoffish enough to your liking.

“Oh, Jungkook!” Manny giggles for no reason, she leans into Jungkook’s space, just laughing away while sit you here and watch. He chuckles awkwardly, his hands messing with the playing cards in front of him. You hate this view. You thought any view with Jungkook would be a nice one, but you were wrong. Watching your cousin fawn over him like this is making you angry as fuck. As it should, right? Jungkook is your boyfriend! Well—not actually. But still! As far as Manny is concerned, Jungkook is your man, and she needs to back off.

“Manny, could you maybe give my boyfriend some space.” You snap, your voice cutting in through your family’s chatter. The room quiets down and all eyes are on you.

Manny looks all around the room, red creeping on her cheeks as she sits here, embarrassed. She opens her mouth to speak when you hold up a hand to stop her. Then you use that hand to gesture towards their bodies,

“He’s clearly uncomfortable that you are sitting so close, and frankly, I am too.”

“y/n…”

“And he’s too nice to say anything.” Your cold eyes look at her then they slide to Jungkook, “Which is something you need to work on babe.”

“I am not even sitting that close, jeez, you are as dramatic as ever.” Manny tries to roll her eyes, while subtlety scooting away. “And really? You try to call me out in front of everyone?”

“Oh? Should we talk in private then?”

“y/n.” this time the one saying your name is Jungkook. “Maybe we should go to sleep. Start new tomorrow, huh?” The tension between you and Manny too much for him to handle right now, especially in front of everyone.

“I think that’s a great idea.” It’s grandma. “It’s way past my bedtime too.”

“I think your aunt and uncle were just talking about how it’s almost time to leave too. Perfect timing!” Your mom chimes in, “Let’s all say goodnight.”

You don’t say anything to Jungkook as you peel back the baby pink duvet on your bed, you just stare down at your twin mattress with hard eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You continue to stay silent as you slip under the covers, scooting all the way towards the edge of the bed as far as you possibly can.

“y/n…” Jungkook pats in the last of his facial moisturizer into his skin, “I asked if you’re okay?” his back is facing you as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing his moisturizer back in his bag. “It was interesting,” (Hot.) “To see you all…protective,” (Jealous.) “Tonight.”

“I’m going to sleep.” You are laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling fan. “I don’t feel like talking tonight.”

Jungkook lays down next to you, his body so freaking close. He lays on his side, facing you. His right arm going under his head, trying his hardest to get comfortable in such close quarters.

“No talking, but maybe cuddling?” Jungkook whispers, and you of course hear it clear as day because he is so fucking close to you.

“Call me crazy but I don’t feel like cuddling with a guy who can’t even tell another girl to fuck off.” You shut your eyes. “Not in the mood.”

Jungkook blinks a few times, your words sinking in. You’re kind of right, he should of said something too but he didn’t know what to say. It’s your cousin! In front of your family! And he tried his hardest to lean away from Manny as much as possible.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re right. I should have said something.” His left hand reaches out to grab your hand that rests on top of your stomach.

“Yeah, you should have. But now I’m the asshole who called her out in front of everyone.”

Jungkook remembers it, and he darkly chuckles.

“Yeah, and it was hot.” He admits, making you open your eyes as you snap your head towards him.

“You think me being crazy jealous was hot?” you give him a look like he’s crazy.

“So you are jealous?” Jungkook smirks, “But I don’t see it that way. I see it as being protective over what’s yours.”

“So, you’re mine?” you turn to lean on your side, your body bumping into his. “At least until the end of this trip right?” you laugh, “I can’t believe you just don’t want to disappoint grandma.”

“At least until the end of this trip.” Jungkook leans his head closer to yours, “You finally brought home a boyfriend.” He grins as his forehead slightly bumps into yours.

What does Jungkook mean at least? And why does he always become closer and closer to you?

If you were to lift your head up at all, his lips would be dangerously close to yours.

“Jeez, how many fake boyfriends am I going to have this year?” you joke, keeping your head down, “I really got to find a real one by now.”

“I know the room is dark,” Jungkook begins, “But I still want to see your eyes when we talk.”

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk?”

“y/n…” Jungkook whines, “You’re still mad at me?”

“Not really, it’s not your fault. I’m just still pissed at the situation.” You admit quite easily. “It’s honestly so disrespectful of her. You’re my boyfriend. You’re my man. You’re mine.”

Jungkook’s hand settles over your waist, he grabs on and brings you in closer to his body. He inhales you, taking in your scent. You smell so good to him, he could inhale you forever. Your words echo in his mind as he snuggles you closer. Your man? His heart races faster and faster as the echo gets louder.

“I’m yours, hm?” he runs his fingers down your side, starting from your shoulder until the top of your hip bone. “Does that make you mine?” He breathes out, “Are you mine baby?” his fingers dance over your hips, your shirt and shorts separating his fingers from touching your warm skin.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out, closing your eyes from his gentle touch.

“Do I though?” Jungkook’s hand lingers over your hips, until he is playing with the end of your shirt.

“Let me touch your skin.” He softly begs, “It’ll feel nice.”

Your eyes open in surprise, what skin? Where will he be touching?

“Innocent, I swear.” Jungkook adds, “Just want to make you feel nice.”

“Isn’t that weird?” you finally ask.

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine.” You close your eyes again, “Touch me.”

Jungkook bites his lips when you give him the green light, he wasn’t expecting you to agree so quickly. Because what if it is weird? He just wants to touch your skin, no harm done. Jungkook leans up on his arms and tugs at the bottom of your shirt,

“I am going to slide this up a bit, okay?” he asks and you nod your head but you hear him chuckle.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe out, your eyes still closed.

Jungkook takes the material between his fingers and begins to slowly, very slowly ride the shirt up. His eyes have finally adjusted to the dark, where he can see you just enough. The shirt slides up your body, exposing your skin inch by inch. He gulps.

He lifts the shirt up until your pretty blue bralette is showing itself, your breasts falling to the side giving you a good amount of cleavage. He gulps again.

When the shirt is all bunched up at your armpits, Jungkook lays back down on his side. The cold air that spins in circles thanks to the fan is causing your skin to get goosebumps, your stomach feeling extra sensitive.

“Touch me, Jungkook.” You softly command. “I want you to.”

Jungkook swallows hard at your straightforwardness. His hand slowly creeps up to your shoulder, his fingers brushing against the material of the t shirt before he’s lightly dragging his fingers down your side. His fingertips hit your exposed skin, he lightly glides them down, just barely touching you. When he reaches your hip bone he dances his fingers lower until they’re grazing your lower stomach. His touch is so light it’s got your breathing getting just a bit heavier. He repeats his action a few times, starting from your shoulder until his fingers glide across your bare stomach. He’s right, it does feel nice. Too nice, almost.

“How do my fingers feel?” He clears his throat, his voice nice and low. Your eyes shoot open at his question. This is all innocent, but why does that question feel so dirty?

“They feel so good.” You breathe out, “So good.”

Jungkook smiles and continues sliding his fingers over your lower stomach, causing you to release a long, shaky breath. His touch is so fucking good, his touch leaving a trail of fire. As his fingers lightly skid across your stomach he leaves behind such heat. His fingers finally glide up, they barely reach right under your breasts. Your breath catches in your throat, his fingers so dangerously close to your tits and you want to smash your head on something. God, what it would feel like to have them being touched by his large hand.

Jungkook uses just his pointer finger to drag his finger down from the center of your lower chest until he’s passing your belly button, until he’s reaching your lower stomach again, his finger stopping at the drawstrings on your shorts.

You can’t help but release a long, quiet moan as his finger does that over and over. You clench your stomach muscles with each stroke of his fingers. Why does Jungkook have to make you feel so fucking good?

Jungkook feels himself getting hard against your thigh, but he doesn’t care to hide it. Touching your warm, soft skin feels so intimate and that moan you released? His cock needs to hear more. He grabs a hold of your hip, the material of the shorts in the way of your skin.

“Can I lower these a little?” he pants out. “Just a little.”

“Yes.” You feel your breaths getting heavier.

Jungkook slips his fingers under the shorts and slowly drags down the material over your hip, your panties sliding down as well. Jungkook grunts in approval, he thumbs your hip bone causing you to quietly whimper.

“You really like your hips and stomach to be touched.” He states.

“S-Sensitive.” You admit.

Jungkook massages the skin of your hip, very, very lightly. Almost like he isn’t touching you at all, like he’s just trying to tease you. And it’s working. You feel your breaths become more erratic. You keep your eyes closed as the light feeling of his fingertips begin to make you wet. You can’t help but slightly rotate your hips in circles as he touches you, and you can’t help but moan when he puts more pressure into his massage on your hip.

“You like that?” Jungkook breathes out, “Feel good?”

Your hips move faster underneath his electric touch, you start to become desperate, needing more. You finally open your eyes, Jungkook notices how dark and captivating they look. You reach forward until your own hand is at his shirt.

“Off.”

Jungkook looks at you, very confused. But he doesn’t waste another moment when he sits up and throws his shirt off.

“Good.” Your hands go to grope his chest. His strong muscles flex beneath your touch. You drag your hands down his chest until they stop at the waistband of his sweats, he throws his head back as you explore the front of his body.

“Want to touch you too.” You admit between harsh breaths.

Jungkook’s hand goes to the shirt bunched around your shoulders and tugs on it,

“Off too.” He guides you to sit up and he helps you take off your shirt. Your strappy bralette leaves almost nothing to the imagination, Jungkook thinks. The material is so very thin that he sees your hard nipples and he wants to brush his thumb over them. But he refrains.

“Much better.” Jungkook says in one breath. “Now lay down.”

You do as he says, this time you lay on your back instead of your side. You try breathing in and out normally but can’t help how irregular your breaths are.

“Jungkook.” You whine, “Touch me.”

“So needy.” Jungkook’s hand hovers over the top of your stomach, “My baby is so needy.” He whispers.

You reach up and caress Jungkook’s cheek, “I am.” You admit. Jungkook throws his head back, biting on his lip as he grins.

“Good girl.” His fingers lightly dance below your belly button and you whine. He glides his fingers lower and lower until they’re at your waistband.

“Going to pull these down…just a little.” His voice cracks as he stares down at you.

You nod your head and tell him yes over and over.

He drags the shorts just a bit lower, right before your pussy is exposed. His fingers lightly touch your new exposed skin, and you moan. The feeling getting you so worked up.

“I want to do the same to you.” You try say between your rough breathing. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.” Your hands go to his stomach, your touch anything but light as you drag your hands down with pressure. You reach the top of his waist band and begin pulling down until he’s catching your wrist.

“And what do you think you are doing?” Jungkook’s low, deep voice sends a shiver down your god damn spine.

“Innocent, I promise.” You mock, “Want to touch you too.”

“I think we have had enough,” he teases lightly, bringing his hand back to his own body. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Fine, cuddle me.” You say, annoyed. You turn to your other side, where your back is facing him.

“Fine by me. But…” He sinks down further into the covers to spoon you, one arm going beneath your head and the other pulling you in by the hips, “Remember what happens when we get in this position.” You feel his hard cock poke your ass and you moan out quietly.

“What happens?” you play dumb.

“4 years ago, you asked me to cuddle you like this because you wanted to get fucked.” he says easily and you choke on your spit. He’s referencing that night?

Jungkook is so lost in you, he doesn’t care anymore. He will bring up that night a million times if he has to. He loves you. And he’s starting to get real tired of the constant tension between you two. He pushes his hips into your ass, you feel how hard he is and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I also said this position makes me feel safe.” You play innocent as you bump your ass into his crotch.

“I make you feel safe?”

“You make me feel a lot of things.” You whimper, backing your ass further into his cock, it’s so hard and poking against you in such a way that drives you nuts.

Jungkook groans as he feels you circling your hips into his crotch. His hand goes to your hip and he squeezes tightly making you moan out.

“You got to be more quiet baby.” Jungkook warns softly, “We don’t want your parents or your grandmother thinking we are really having that ‘slumber party’.” He jokes.

“Then what are we having?”

“Just some innocent massages between friends.” He comments with a snicker.

“Oh? Is my ass massaging your dick so innocent?” you whine out, “I don’t really do this sort of thing with my other friends.” You keep your eyes screwed shut.

“It’s very innocent.” Jungkook teases, he begins lightly humping you. He pushes his cock further and further on your ass cheeks, he moans when you two find a rhythm. He remembers when he fucked you in this position, he remembers it well. How you sounded, how you smelled, how you felt. He memorized the feeling of you.

“Fuck, y/n…” Jungkook quietly groans out. He rocks his hips into you faster, and you hate everything. You want to touch yourself so bad. You want to slide your fingers down your shorts and rub your aching clit, you would like it even more if it was Jungkook’s fingers.

“Not fair…” you say in pout, arching your back.

“What’s not?” he pants.

“I want to feel good too…” you say, flipping to your other side, facing him. You scoot impossibly close until his cock is pressed against your lower stomach.

“Innocently, of course.” You throw a leg over his waist as your hands go to his chest to guide him to lay on his back. “Gonna make us both feel good.” Your eyes are glazed over in lust as you speak.

You straddle his hips and find the right placement in sitting down…his cock nice and snug between your clothed folds. You begin moving your hips until you have the right angle on your clit and you moan.

“Is this okay?” you breathe out and Jungkook nods his head quickly.

You begin rocking yourself against his clothed cock, he quietly whimpers at the feeling. Jungkook screws his eyes shut as his mouth falls open and wonderful panting leaves his lips. You watch him lose his composure as you hump him, you pick up the pace, becoming more and more desperate. Your clit is thanking you. ‘Thank you bitch’ it says.

“I—I can’t” Jungkook moans out, “I—I can’t do this.”

You immediately slow down, rejection sinking in. “What do you mean? You don’t want to do—”

“—I don’t want to do this with clothes on.” Jungkook groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “I need you naked. Fucking now.” He grits out.

You finally still as you process his words. Are you two about to fuck? Is this really a good idea? Again? But you are so far gone…you are so beyond horny that you are able to push your logical thinking to the side.

“Okay.” You look at him with lust filled eyes, “Take off my clothes.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen but he’s nodding his head so fucking fast it’s almost comical. He rushes to unclasp your bralette, your breasts bouncing as they are freed. He sits up, and you are graced with the sight of Jungkook’s mouth sucking on your tit. You arch your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the hardened nub. You throw your head back in pleasure, his hand giving your other breast all the attention it needs.

“Shorts, Jungkook.” You beg. “Take them off me.”

Jungkook detaches his self from your breast and looks up into your eyes and smirks,

“Say please, princess.”

“Fucking please, please.”

Jungkook’s hands quickly find their way to your shorts and your rise to your knees to help him slip them off your legs. Your panties go down with the shorts and Jungkook couldn’t be more pleased.

“Oh my god baby.” Jungkook stares at you with dark eyes, “Your wetness is literally dripping down your inner thighs. You are so fucking wet.” He comments and you smile shyly.

“You…” you begin to say.

“What about me?” he teases, his fingers grazing your inner thigh, he wipes some of your cum off your sensitive skin.

“You did this to me.”

“Yes I did baby. And I will take full responsibility.” He guides your body up his own, you follow his lead.

“Ride my face.” He commands as he lays back down, his hand in yours still guiding you when you stop abruptly.

“W—What?”

“Ride my face baby.” He tugs on your hand and you hesitantly make your way closer to him. You stop when you are hovering over his chest, knees on either side of his neck when you start to get shy.

“I’ve never…”

“Keep going,” his hands go to your hips and he’s guiding you further up until your pussy is hovering over his warm mouth.

“Now sit.”

“Jungkook—”

“I said, sit.”

And you do, you lower yourself over his mouth…you slam your eyes shut, feeling nervous. But then you are met with his wet, warm tongue. You stay still as he begins licking at you, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. You start to relax as the sensation fills you up, his tongue swirling around causing you to release a long, breathy moan. You can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth…the feeling even more spectacular. You try to keep quiet, you really do. But Jungkook’s tongue is quite literally fucking you.

“Ah, Jungkook.” You throw your head back, your eyes rolling all around as you ride his face faster. You feel Jungkook moan into your pussy, making you whimper even more.

You don’t know how much time has passed but it does not matter. Jungkook shows no sign of stopping anytime soon, his tongue working to make you feel so fucking good. You ride his face even harder now, your thighs shaking as you squeeze around his head.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You pant out, “I think I’m going to—”

You rock your hips as fast as you can as you feel your orgasm approaching, Jungkook’s hands squeeze your ass cheeks. He encourages you to rock against him even harder as he guides your hips. His tongue is laid flat against your clit as you ride him faster, you can feel how close you are. You thighs shake and you feel your pussy clench around nothing as your orgasm hits you. It hits you so fucking hard, like a strong wind that’s knocked you over.

“Fuuuuuucckkk.” You squeeze your thighs together, probably crushing Jungkook’s head as you come. You breathe so fucking hard as you try to hurry to come down from your amazing orgasm, you struggle to rise to your knees, so Jungkook helps lift you a bit until you are rising from his mouth.

You inch backwards until you are hovering over his chest, when he makes you sit down. You open your eyes, and take a look at the man before you.

His entire face is glistening with your cum and he looks so fucking happy about it. He’s trying to catch his own breath as he eyes you, his entire face wet with your cum. He is fucking grinning at you.

“You did so amazing baby.” He breathes out.

“That was incredible.” You admit. “Want to…” you start off hesitantly, “Want to fuck my mouth?”

Jungkook slams his eyes shut, and takes a few deep breaths before he slowly opens his eyes again.

“No…We should get cleaned up and go to sleep. Don’t you think?” he asks softly.

“Go…to sleep?” you ask, disappointed. “Sure.” You say kind of detached. “If that’s what you want.”

~~~~~~

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

It’s the next morning and you are trying your hardest to sleep away from Jungkook. But the bed is so small making it almost impossible. You didn’t sleep at all. Which feels unfair because Jungkook is next to you snoring away with a lazy arm thrown over your waist.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

Jungkook has a girlfriend but you and him…oh my god you made Jungkook a cheater. You are the fucking worst. You let lust win in this dangerous game you two are playing, you let it win and shove it’s victory in your face. You hate yourself. You feel so fucking bad! Vanessa may not be your favorite person but cheating is never okay.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

You wonder if Jungkook will feel these things too as he wakes up…you wonder if he will feel worse. Jungkook is a lot of things but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’s always felt strongly about the subject because of his mom and dad. Will he be weird with you? Will he feel worse than you? Will he be able to forgive himself?

Suddenly, Jungkook’s light snores go quiet and his arm is tightening around your waist just the slightest. He’s awake. He begins pulling you in closer to his body and then you feel his lips on your neck. He leaves just an innocent peck and then you think he may be going back to sleep with how comfortable he’s getting.

“Let’s get up.” You break the silence in the room, “I can hear people downstairs.”

“Oh, good morning.” You feel him smile on your neck, “Why don’t we stay here for just a few minutes?”

Has he not processed what he’s done? Where is his shame? His guilt? His regret? You feel sick.

“We really should get up.” You repeat. “I’m hungry.” You detach yourself from his body and rise from the bed. You don’t even look at him as you grab a change of clothes and exit the room to head towards the bathroom.

Jungkook is left on the bed wondering what’s up with you? Are you feeling awkward after last night? He thought you might be in a good mood…considering your orgasm…but instead your mood seems to be sour.

“Great.” Jungkook mutters underneath his breath. He gets up too, going to his bag to change for the day. When he’s done, he grabs his toiletries and makes his way to the bathroom. He stands outside the door, softly knocking. You swing the door open with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when you usher him inside.

“I’m going to wash up too…” Jungkook warns. He sets his small toiletry bag on the bathroom counter and takes out his face wash, moisturizer and tooth brush.

You nod your head as you continue to brush your teeth, toothpaste foaming at the corner of your mouth.

“How do you feel this morning?” Jungkook tries to make decent conversation as he applies his face wash to his face.

You spit out the toothpaste and rinse your mouth, wiping your face dry with a towel.

“Fine.” You spit out. “Just fine.”

Jungkook washes his face with water, and pats his face dry with a small towel, just nodding his head. He feels awkward.

“I feel fine too…” He adds, trying to add more to the convo. “Do you think grandma heard us last night?” he asks.

“Let’s not talk about last night.” You snap, “Can’t you read a room?”

You grab your things and leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook wondering what the hell he did to make you so mad. Did you hate it that much? Maybe in the past he would have thought that but now…he knows how much you liked it. Loved it even. Jungkook doesn’t feel as insecure as before, he just knows the only way to solve this is to talk to you. Communication.

Communication would be a lot easier if he was given a god damn chance at talking to you but your mom is keeping you so busy in the kitchen with your gossipy aunt’s chitter chatter filling every crevice of the room. You nod along, even laugh as you listen. Jungkook is in the backyard with the three kids, keeping them entertained as you, Manny, Larissa, your aunt and mom bake in the kitchen with grandma sipping her tea at the table. Your dad, uncle and Daniel are in the living room watching some show, clanking their beer bottles together in celebration. Today is Christmas eve. Apparently this is when your family does most of the major celebrating, you guys bake and cook all day, eat a grand dinner and open presents. And Christmas day you just eat leftovers and chill.

The youngest kid has grown quite fond of Jungkook, she tends to feel left out by her two older brothers. Jungkook plays with her and she has already formed an attachment making your cousin in law laugh at them fondly.

“Your boyfriend is great with kids! Lucky you.” Larissa winks at you as she rolls the cookie dough on the counter.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say plainly.

“y/n…what’s wrong?” Manny comes up to your side, “Trouble in paradise?”

“No, Manny.” You snap. “But I bet you would like that.”

“Girls, let’s not fight.” Your aunt cuts in while your mom just looks at you worried.

“I would hardly call it a fight.” You hear your grandmas sweet voice over everyone else’s. “Now how are those drop cookies coming along girls?”

“They’re coming.” You say. “If Manny ever finishes with the dry ingredients.”

“I told you I was almost done, chill out.”

“Girls.” Your mom warns, “y/n, why don’t you go keep Jungkook company?”

Your eyes go from your moms to outside where Jungkook is and you panic.

“No, it’s okay…he’s fine.”

“You know what?” Your grandma speaks up, “I think I will if you won’t.” She sweetly chuckles. She stands from her place at the table, grabs her tea cup and makes her way to the outside table instead, closing the backyard door behind her.

“Hi dear.” Your grandma nods towards Jungkook as he plays pirates with the boys. He is laughing and pretending to have a hook hand, while the boys giggle and run around. The youngest claims she is the lost princess and that Jungkook has to save her. Grandma watches with joy, loving how well he gets along with the children.

“Hi.” Jungkook says out of breath from playing. He tells the kids to keep playing and that he will return shortly, they beg and whined that he stay but he says if they keep playing he will steal them some of the first cookies. The kids nod their head aggressively in agreement.

“How are you this afternoon?” he takes a seat across from her.

“Why is my granddaughter mad at you?” She smiles at Jungkook and his face drains of all color.

“Um…what do you mean?”

“Anyone with eyes knows you two have been strange all morning and afternoon.” Your grandma brings her tea to her mouth, “Maybe Manny was right, there is trouble in paradise.” She smiles again, “The key is to talk to her. Find out what’s going on.”

Jungkook groans, throwing his head into his hands. He lifts his head up again to speak but decides to just groan again in frustration.

“She won’t give me a chance to speak to her.” He admits. “She’s avoiding me.”

“Make the chance happen.” Grandma advices, “You’re a good kid, Jungkook. Even though you decided to lie to poor old me.”

“Lie?”

“You think I really couldn’t tell that you’re not really dating my granddaughter? I’ve been around too long to get fooled by something like that. But I see your feelings are real. So are hers. So why aren’t you two together?”

Jungkook sits here, absolutely stunned silent. He doesn’t know how to respond! Grandma begins sipping on her tea again when she lowers it to speak.

“Go talk to her honey. I want to see my grandbaby happy.”

“I guess we don’t have to pretend anymore.” Jungkook finally speaks.

“No, no. Keep going, it is quite entertaining, dear.” Your grandma chuckles, “Plus, it keeps Manny on her toes. Best if she thinks you are taken. Once she finds out that you are single…I fear for your life, boy.” Your grandma laughs out loud, making Jungkook join her.

“Fair enough.” He says, “But how do I…how do I get her to talk to me?”

“I’m sure you know her better than I do.” Grandma points out, “You’ll figure out what works best for her.”

And your grandma is right, he does know you best. But what will work? When you have avoided things in the past he has usually been the one to force answers out of you. Now is no different.

All the baking for the day is complete, you sit down at the table in the kitchen and let your head fall to the table top. You moan out in satisfaction that you all are finally done…how unfair that the guys got to just chill all day? Your mom has been cooking with your aunt for Christmas dinner while you and your cousins worked on pies and cookies. And they sat and drank beer. Typical.

“Hey.” You feel Jungkook’s warm breath hit your ear and you look up at him, his face so close to yours as he is leaned down to speak to you.

“Can we talk?”

“Nothing to talk about.” You lay your head back down on the table until you feel your arm being pulled upwards, causing you to stand to your feet.

“Don’t be a brat. Let’s go.” Jungkook pulls you up, and starts pulling you in the direction of the staircase.

“Let go of me.” She say weakly, “I can walk myself.”

Jungkook let’s go of your arm and instead reaches for your hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours and you roll your eyes.

“I said, I can walk myself.”

Jungkook only shakes his head in response, guiding you up the stairs until you two reach the bedroom, you both walk inside as Jungkook closes the door behind you two.

“Now talk.” He softly commands.

“Nothing to talk about?”

“y/n…” he warns and you feel your eyes start to sting.

“We fucked up, Jungkook.” You blink back the stinging in your eyes, shame, guilt, and regret joining you.

“How so?”

“What do you mean ‘How so?’” you ask incredulously. “Do you not remember the events of last night? You have a girlfriend!” you throw your hands in the air, “You are a cheater! I’m the one you cheated with…oh my god…”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words and he starts shaking his head. He tries walking closer to you but you only step back until your back meets the wall.

“We fucked up.” You cry out. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jungkook asks softly. You are starting to wonder why this dude is not panicking.

“I made you a cheater.” You cry. Jungkook walks closer to you again until he’s wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You didn’t.” he whispers. “Vanessa and I…we aren’t together right now.”

You sniffle into his shoulder as you process his words…not together right now? What does that even mean?

“She broke up with me.” He begins to explain, “Said she wants to break up until New Year’s but I don’t think we will be getting back together.”

“Why not?” you whisper.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Oh.” You untangle yourself from Jungkook’s arms, “But you aren’t a cheater?”

“No.”

You sigh out in relief, a huge, long, heavy sigh. Thank God. You feel shame, guilt, and regret leave your body making you feel ten times lighter.

“So I have nothing to feel bad for?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook smiles at you, “Now can we go enjoy Christmas? I cannot wait to give you your present.”

You pull on your hair, feeling nervous suddenly. Is he just going to brush past this too? Are you two not going to bring up last night in more detail? Figure out what it means for you two? Are you two just friends who occasionally hook up? That’s not what you want. What do you want? “Sure.”

~~~~~

“Dinner was delicious, honey.” Your dad says reaching over to cup your moms cheek. “I think I ate way too much this year.”

“Oh sweetheart, you say that every year.” Your mom laughs, “What about everyone else? Eat enough?”

Everyone around the table groans in happiness, nodding their heads yes and complimenting the dinner.

“Well, I suppose we should get on to the presents portion of the evening?” Your mom stands from her chair, “Let’s all go into the living room around the tree.”

Everyone makes their way into the living room, you and Jungkook being the last two to make it inside. You two stand here awkwardly, not entirely too sure where to sit since it is a bit crowded. Your grandma points at you two with a cheeky smile.

“Mistletoe.” She yells out. “Mistletoe!”

You point at yourself in question and then at Jungkook. What mistletoe? Then you see Jungkook looking up and his face turning completely red. Oh.

“We really don’t—”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” you hear your various family members chanting. Your parents grinning like fools as they chant as well. Your grandma winks at Jungkook and Jungkook goes even redder.

“We don’t have to Jungkook” you whisper. Jungkook clears his throat repeatedly until his face begins going back to his normal color.

“No, it’s tradition right?”

“I mean, I guess.” You shrug, you begin to turn red yourself.

“C’mere.” He reaches for your hand and pulls you in to his chest, then his other hand goes to cup your jaw. “Just one kiss.” He whispers.

You feel all his body heat enter your body, his touch making you so fucking warm. You nod your head pathetically as you tilt your head up. Jungkook smiles down at you and leans in just a bit, his forehead pressing against yours. Your eyes go to his lips, they are pink and his bottom lip is plump. Jungkook leans lower until his mouth is hovering over yours and he very innocently pecks your lips. You wish his kiss had lingered longer but it is short but sweet. He leans away from you, his forehead still pushed up against your own when you surge forward and kiss him again.

You hear the hollering of your cousin Daniel and his wife Larissa, Manny probably pouting. Your aunt and uncle are giggling and your parents laughing but telling you to behave. Your grandma snickers to herself and starts softly clapping her hands together.

“I thought I said just one?” Jungkook teases, his hand lowering to his side but his other hand keeps holding yours.

“I couldn’t help myself.” You admit confidently “Now let’s do presents!” you turn to face everyone else.

“Agreed!” your mom yells out excitedly. “First, we have Manny from Daniel…”

The night continues, everyone exchanging presents. Your parents loved their gifts, your mom thought the necklace was very thoughtful and your dad says he would love to take you to the game with him. You give Jungkook your gift, he yelps in excitement when he unwraps his gift when he sees the boots.

“Thanks baby, I know I haven’t shut up about these shoes for months!” he leans in to hug you. “Now it’s my turn.” He grins.

He searches the tree for the last gift of the night: Jungkook to you. He grabs the box and hands it to you, a shy smile making its way on his lips.

“Here, for you.” He sits back and waits for you to unwrap it. Your parents and the rest of your relatives wait as well.

“Okay, here I go.” You begin unwrapping the box, throwing the gift paper to the side on the floor and are met with a brown box. You raise a brow at Jungkook and he just smiles widely.

“Go on,” he says, “Open it.”

So you do. You carefully open the box and pull out a wooden box—a music box. The top of the music box is glass with a photo of you and Jungkook, your heart absolutely melts into two.

“Open it, open it.” He urges excitedly.

“Okay…”

You lift the top of the music box, revealing its insides. Your absolute favorite song in the world starts playing and you feel the waterworks coming. This song means everything to you. He knows it is your favorite.

“Read what it says…” he mentions shyly. “There’s a message.”

I will always believe in you. I will always support you. And I will always love you.

You read the message to yourself a few times over and you start sniffling, a few tears leaving your eyes. You look up to make eye contact with Jungkook and he smiles. You close the box and slip it back inside the box and set it to the side, you crawl towards Jungkook and hug him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you throw your head into his shoulder, and you start mumbling your thanks.

“Of course baby.” He whispers into your hair, “I mean it.”

“I know you do…” you murmur. “I know.” You sniffle harder. “And I love you more.”

You, yourself aren’t entirely sure how you meant the words ‘I love you’ in this moment. You are so overwhelmed and overjoyed that you aren’t sure if you said it platonically or romantically. All you know is that you meant it.

“That’s impossible.” Jungkook chuckles. You slowly leave his arms, feeling embarrassed now that you’re crying in front of everyone.

“What did it say?” Manny asks, “You didn’t even share!”

“Let’s leave it between the love birds.” Your grandma says.

“Love birds indeed.” Your mom grins, “Well, Santa comes nice and early tomorrow!” she says to the kids.

“Are you sure about leaving them here tonight?” Daniel asks, “Santa can come to the hotel too.”

“Don’t be silly,” your mom says, “I will put them to bed on the sofas. It will be fine.”

“Okay, we will see you all bright and early tomorrow morning then.” Larissa begins packing up their things.

“Heading out already?” Your dad asks, “Well, take some food with you.”

You and Jungkook stay seated on the floor, as the rest begin cleaning up. Your mom picks up all the gift wrapping paper off the floor while your dad puts away gifts and you and Jungkook sit side by side.

“Did you like your gift?” Jungkook inches closer to you.

“I love it, Jungkook.” You lean into his shoulder, resting your head on him. “It makes me so happy.”

“What about me…do I make you happy?”

“So happy.” You admit. “I hope I can make you this happy too.”

“You do.” Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “Like, you have no idea.” He reaches for your hand and tangles his fingers with yours.

“Do you two want to head to bed? We got the cleaning covered.” Your mom offers. You yawn in response, showing her that you could use some sleep.

“Yeah, okay.” You accept gratefully, you stand up taking Jungkook with you. You two say your goodnight’s and head towards the stairs up to your bedroom.

“Goodnight you two.” Your grandma sings, sending a wink to Jungkook and he goes red again.

“Why does she keep winking at you?” You wonder out loud.

“No idea…” Jungkook is quick to respond. “Weird…”

When you and Jungkook get to your room, you both rush to get changed and wash up in the bathroom. He finishes before you, settling into the bed. You come in next, wearing your sleep shorts and a tank top. You turn the lights off and make your way to your bed, you slip inside and groan in satisfaction…ah, sleep time.

“Hey y/n…”

“Hm?” you sleepily roll over to your side to face Jungkook, “What’s up?”

“I just want to say…” he pauses and bites his lip. “Thanks. I just want to say thanks.”

“For what babe?”

“For bringing me for Christmas…this is the first time I have felt so at home in years.” He admits, “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“I’m glad you’re happy Jungkook.”

“More than happy.” He corrects. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

“Then tell me.”

“Can I show you instead?” Jungkook leans closer to you, tilting his head at the right angle. “Can I kiss you?”

You can’t help but swallow hard, Jungkook wants to kiss you? To show you what you mean to him? That’s romantic right? You aren’t totally reading this wrong?

“Why?” you ask, gulping down your spit.

“Because.” He breathes out softly, “Please.”

You can smell the toothpaste on his breath, you can smell his laundry detergent on his clothes, you can smell the shampoo in his hair. You inhale him and hold your breath.

“If I say no?” you blink up at him and he smiles softly.

“Then I will respect that.” He answers honestly.

With your eyes still adjusting to the darkness it is hard to see his eyes but you just know they are soft and inviting.

“Jungkook…” You scoot closer to him, moving your head to be at level with his face. “Baby…” you whimper out as you lean in closer to his face.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, his breath hitting your lips. “Because—”

Your lips find his in a slow, tender kiss. You peck his lips over and over and you can feel his lips shaping into a smile. You pull away after a few seconds, feeling breathless after the short kiss.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You scoot down until your head hits his chest and you snuggle into it.

“Goodnight baby.” Jungkook smiles, laying on his back as he stares up at the dark ceiling. How will he find sleep tonight? His heart is racing in his chest. Are you finally starting to understand his feelings? He knows he hasn’t talked about them yet…but he will. Yes, he definitely will.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Dude socks was so domestic and cute and comforting I might cry!! Can I request a sirius black imagine where the reader is like a confident and fun/sarcastic person that is friends with the marauders and has a playful flirty relationship with sirius. They both like each other but the reader is kind of scared of commitment so they always take a step back whenever sirius takes a step forward and sirius finally corners them about it and finds out its readers insecurities and all ends well? Thanks!

She's not afraid [S.B]

Sirius Black x Reader

Word counts: 4.8k

A/N: This was a very entertaining request and it took a while because every day I feel like I'm going to pass out from nausea haha. But writing is super relaxing for me.

I was hoping it would be shorter and now I feel like something was missing, but I hope you like it. Especially you, nonny!

And thanks for your nice comment, I'm glad you liked "socks"

(The title refers to the song of one direction because it reminded me a lot of its lyrics)

"If you had to choose between a chocolate-flavored shit and a shit-flavored chocolate, what would you choose?" he murmured, his voice echoing through the room.

You and your friends were in the common room in the so-called “study group” that Remus had insisted on creating for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class and ended up with topics from the other subjects. It was true that everyone fulfilled the boy's whims, because none had the heart to say no to something (which he often took advantage of) and now every afternoon you met to read some documents, comment on your doubts and practice spells and even potions.

But if anyone couldn't take things seriously, he was Sirius.

The only thing that kept it there was his love for Moony and also the opportunity to watch you study for a full hour. Or watch you do anything, to be honest.

Everyone frowned at Sirius' question, not understanding the nature of it. James, who was the only one who could listen to him, was busy analyzing a herbology book in detail. And by analyzing I mean sleeping on top of it.

“The chocolate-flavored shit, of course. What good would it do you to have chocolate if it tastes awful?" you answered seriously. Suddenly all eyes in the room were on you and most of them seemed half disgusted half confused. "What? Sirius asked" you said shrugging your shoulders and pointing at him with an open palm. The young man grinned widely and you returned the same smile, both of you holding back the urge to laugh.

"I can always trust you, pretty," he said happily. "And now that I think about it, you're very far from me, don't you think? Let me get closer” he murmured determinedly, getting up from his seat with a book in hand and all the intention of placing himself in the same armchair as you. But halfway there an arm stopped him abruptly.

"Go back to your seat," Remus demanded, not looking away from his book. Sirius complained.

"Why?" he said indignantly. You turned your gaze to the notes you were analyzing, but the smile on your mouth didn't fade and Sirius noticed.

“Because having the two of you together is having a time bomb. Go back to your seat,” he murmured just as seriously. Sirius watched him and in the middle of his tantrum he wrinkled his whole face trying to imitate Remus "I can see you Sirius"

"Since you've been a prefect, you have become unbearable," he muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," he replied like a little boy, dropping on the couch and taking the book from him again in the middle of a snort. You watched him with amusement and he stared back at you, so you mouthed ‘Better luck next time as he looked back at his notes. You felt Sirius's gaze, it was not something easy to ignore, but you tried not to stop yourself from the spirit from passing all the subjects that had suddenly invaded you.

When you couldn't take it anymore you looked up and again mouthed ‘What?’ Trying not to get caught by Remus. Sirius sneakily pointed to a scroll and his quill and you knew what it was all about.

Turns out that Sirius was extremely smart when he put his mind to it and he himself had enchanted a couple of scrolls that only you and he knew about. When you wrote in one, it was reflected in the other and when you finished whatever you were writing this was erased. At first you had not believed him because doing that involved very advanced magic and Sirius was not the archetype of an exemplary student to do that. But once you tried them you realized that you had indeed underestimated the boy and the curiosity to know the most intelligent and creative part of him invaded you. I mean, he was when it came to the pranks but you never imagined a Sirius smart underneath the idler you knew.

Y/N, can I ask you a very personal question? he wrote it. You tried not to sound too concerned and replied:

You can do it, but I can decide not to answer it. It turned out that Sirius was really weird lately and you were worried about what he might say, but usually it was pure nonsense.

The scroll went blank and you waited a few seconds for Sirius's pretty handwriting to appear. You tried not to look at him too much because you knew beforehand that he would get a scolding from Mr. Lupin.

Are you a dementor? he wrote.

You frowned at the words, searching for some logical explanation for his absurd question. Obviously you weren't. Sirius, seeing your confused face, supported a giggle and wrote again.

Because you take my breath away.

You read the words, going over one by one, and couldn't bear the urge to look at Sirius over your glasses with that annoyed look that you liked to fake so he wouldn't notice that you actually liked his scoundrel flirtations.

That was horrible, Sirius.

I made you blush so I don't think it was that bad.

Of course I didn't do that.

Of course you did. He wrote. And you didn't want to look at him because you knew you would just agree with him and blush even more. You look beautiful when you do that, he added. You bit your lip and looked at the parchment for a few seconds just before writing on it.

Stop saying such things to me, Sirius.

What do you say? What do I continue to say to you my best compliments and flattering your qualities? Perfect.

You stifled a laugh and shook it softly, keeping that smile that Sirius loved to observe.

You considered him a wonderful, handsome and kind boy, who was always looking for a way to make you laugh. The spark between you was something that everyone could perceive, including yourself.

I need to study, Sirius. Goodbye. You wrote and that ended your little talk.

For the rest of the hour all your attention was focused on the topics you were studying: Aconite (also known as monkshood or wolfsbane) a mundane plant with magical properties. The name had seemed funny to you and Remus had assured that it had nothing to do with werewolves.

Herbology was a very simple class for you, especially with the help that sometimes the best student in the class gave you: Frank Longbottom.

"Well, the hour is up, do you want to discuss any of the issues or...?" he was interrupted by Sirius abruptly closing the book and who with a wave of his wand put away all his notes "Everyone except Sirius, would you like to discuss something?" he asked, rolling his eyes at the brunette's innocent smile.

You all denied and Lupin ended the meeting. Everyone scattered in different directions, including James who seemed to have magically awakened as soon as the hour was up, but you stayed in the sitting room with your feet tucked up on the red velvet chair.

"What happens?" Sirius asked from behind, not noticing your presence. He jumped onto the couch and flopped into it.

"Nothing, do I need to go where everyone goes all the time?" you asked raising an eyebrow. The boy smiled and shook his head as he leaned on one of his hands, closing the distance between you. "Weren't you the one who was dying to get out of here?"

"Correction: I wanted the session to end, at no time did I speak about the company" he replied and you smiled "Speaking of which, I was thinking..."

"You think?"

“When I want to do it, yes,” he said amused “But let me talk and then you make fun of me. I was thinking that this weekend we are going to Hogsmeade and I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere "

"Sure!" You answered animatedly and his eyes lit up "Will the others go too?" You continued, but the boy was suddenly disappointed.

"Hmm, I was thinking of something... different."

"Different?"

“Yeah, something like… you know, you and me. Alone”

And with that, you were paralyzed in your place.

You'd been alone with him countless times, just like that time, but it was one thing to chat in his common room or in class and quite another to ask you out at Hogsmeade.

"Oh, sure. Something like… a walk or shopping for chocolate frogs at Honeydukes, right?" you said quickly, trying not to show your nerves.

"Hmm, I could think of something else like Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop," he said with a smile. You gulped and watched him with concern. That place was usually full of cheesy couples. "Even though I have all those pink things, I could take them if I'm with you..."

"No," you said abruptly. Sirius was silent and you watched his smile diminish considerably. “I mean, no… I don't wish we were alone. We are always accompanied by the group, why not do it now?” you asked with an awkward smile. The boy was close to you and apparently he did not expect that answer, as his face reflected it quite well. But you were too busy with nerves eating your stomach to notice.

"Uh... yeah, I guess I'll tell them then" he exclaimed softly.

"Yes! It will be more fun and we can go for butterbeer if you want. And I could buy you those sweets that you like, what do you say? " you asked trying to sound a little more animated. Sirius was good at pretending and his disappointed look on his was replaced by a smile in an instant.

"Yes, that would be fine" he replied. His hand traveled to your cheek and he ran over it gently, resting at the base of your jaw for a moment. His hands were callused and very large compared to yours "Then we will go with everyone, as always" he sighed. His hand went up a bit and you felt him tug at your earlobe.

"Hey!" you screamed trying to reach for her head to hit her. Sirius dodged it quite skillfully and it made you laugh.

"I think I'll go to my room. See you tomorrow?" he murmured with a tight-lipped smile as he rose from the couch.

"Sure, see you tomorrow" you replied in the same way, watching him walk towards the exit. You released your contained breath and let your head fall against the back of the chair, processing what had just happened.

You were very sure of what Sirius had tried to do and you didn’t understand the reason for your reaction. I mean, you had completely paralyzed shortly after blatantly flirting with the boy. You had had many dates in your life, why would this be any different?

You looked down the hall where Sirius had gone and remembered his disappointed fase. Should you go look for him?

No, maybe it was best to just let it go and gradually he would forget about it. Yes, that would be the best.

You looked at the seat where he had previously been and you also touched your cheek, hoping you could relive the touch that he had given you. For a few seconds you felt guilty that you responded so rudely to his request, but then you simply shook your head to drive those thoughts away.

"I should be sleeping" you thought aloud. You weren't even sleepy and it wasn't even too late, but you imagined it would be easier to lie down on the bed and not think about it anymore.

You took your things in silence and climbed the stone stairs, leaving behind that memory that you hoped would soon be forgotten.

It had been a few days since that incident and luckily things hadn't changed at all between you and Sirius. He really seemed to have forgotten what happened, so the weekend trip to Hogsmeade unfolded in the most normal way in the world.

Sirius was still flirtatious as ever, teasing you and taking every opportunity to be close to you. You liked his company, he made you feel quite calm and you always had something to talk about. If it wasn't this, it was that, and when you weren't talking you were laughing.

"How could you not fall asleep in Slughorn's class?" James asked. His head hung from the ledge where he was lying and played with his glasses. "The only thing that could distract me was Snivellus's voice."

"Don't call him that," Lily said in a stern voice and you snorted.

“Why do you defend him so much? " you asked wrinkling your nose. Lily looked at you just as seriously.

"Because he’s my friend and he does not deserve to be mistreated like that"

"Mistreat?" you asked incredulously “Have you heard him mocking us along with his entourage of snooty Slytherins? Who you should take care of should be that Lucius and Regulus" you said rolling your eyes "No offense, Sirius" you added. The boy was leaning against the wall with his tie unbuttoned resting on his shoulders.

"It's not offensive, it's the truth" he murmured amused, shrugging and giving you a smile.

Lily didn't say anything else, but she seemed annoyed and she didn't speak for the rest of the afternoon. Peter and James started arguing about things you weren't really interested in so you decided to focus on the scribbles you were drawing on a worn parchment.

You felt an extra pressure next to you on the couch and it wasn't even necessary to look to know who he was.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing" you said simply, keeping your eyes on your scroll.

"Can I talk to you?"

"You are doing it" you replied with a smile. Sirius rolled his eyes and took the quill from your hand, forcing you to look at him.

"Can I talk to you alone?" he asked seriously. Oh no, trouble again...

"Why alone, dear?" you said as a joke. Sirius was too close to you and you tried not to get flustered by it "Is there something you need to say to me that others can't hear?" you asked with a tight-lipped smile, the kind you wear when you're uncomfortable with something.

Sirius cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck unconsciously. You knew he did that when he was nervous.

"Well... to tell the truth something like that" he murmured with a smile. You felt your heart beat faster "Do you think we can go to my room?" he asked.

"To your room?" you said, your voice an octave higher than normal.

"Yeah, you've been there a thousand times," he laughed.

"Eh, is what you have to tell me very urgent?" you asked. You were a bundle of nerves and you really didn't understand what it was.

"Yeah boo, it's important," he said gently. His hand traveled to yours and took your fingers against his. You turned pale because he didn't say urgent but important.

“So, uh, come on. The faster the better, right?" you expressed nervous. You got up from your place and walked to the bedrooms without looking back. You heard an almost deathly silence in the common room and then laughter, but you didn't have time to look when Sirius was already shoving you from the lower back.

The walk to his room was very silent, the first omen that something bad was about to happen. Once you were in his bedroom he let you in first and closed the door behind you, managing to startle you with the simple sound of the latch.

"Why are you closing the door?" you asked nervously, with the volume of your voice considerably louder. Sirius noticed this and quickly removed the latch he had placed on the door.

"I just didn't want to be bothered, that's all," he said with a frown "You're a bit strange, are you sure you don't mind being here with me?"

"No, no, nothing like that" you rushed to reply, waving your hands in an exaggerated way. Sirius found it cute when you did that "You're the one who's suddenly strange, I'm not"

"Yeah, maybe I've been behaving a little weird lately" he smiled, in that way that reminded you of a child "But I promise you it's for good reason, in fact it's what I want to talk to you about" he started to say.

You panicked, total panic screaming at you to get out of there at all costs. The look Sirius gave you, the nervous posture of him and the way he was smiling at you. You knew what that was.

"McGonagall!" You screamed out of nowhere before he could continue

"Excuse me?"

“I forgot that I have a very important meeting with McGonagall, to see the matter of one of my grades. It is essential that I go today and I forgot, can we have this talk later? " you said clasping your hands in a sign of prayer.

Sirius looked, for the second time, disappointed.

"Sure, school is more important," he replied, trying not to sound affected. You grinned widely and walked in the direction of the exit, eager to leave his room.

"Thank you Sirius, you are an angel"

"I know I look like one, but I'm not quite sure I am," he joked, but his smile was not as bright as before. You laughed in response and stood on the balls of his feet to place a kiss on his cheek.

"See you later, I promise," you murmured hastily, leaving without giving him a chance to say anything else.

"Yes... I can wait" Sirius spoke to himself, with a hurt tone. He released his breath and lay down on his respective bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt something strange in his chest, something that wanted him to cry out.

You walked down the hallways, desperate to get away from the questions he might have asked, and when you were outside your common room you didn't stop. On the contrary, you ran and ran through the corridors hoping that no one would find you.

You didn't stop until you were outside the castle, until you were on the same black lake. And once there, you collapsed to cry.

You entered through the portrait of the fat lady, making sure to remove your shoes first so as not to make noise when entering. It was late and you had spent all day wandering the castle only to never return to your common room, wearing James's cloak so as not to be discovered.

It had been a few other days since you spoke to him and you still didn't feel ready to face him. Especially when, that afternoon, you had come to your room totally agitated and your two companions had bombarded you with questions.

Did he already tell you? they asked. What was he supposed to say? What was that important thing that Sirius was going to do that you had avoided?

The worst thing was that you already knew, that was the reason for your flight. Your mind knew what was going to happen and refused to accept it.

But you had also wanted it, you had been waiting for that question for years and now you were simply hiding from everyone so you wouldn't have to face that change.

"I was wondering where you were," said a voice in the dark, making you jump instead. The fireplace was off and the darkness did not allow you to see well who it was, but it was not necessary because you recognized his words perfectly “Well, I was not wondering where because I have this wonderful map to which we all owe a lot, but I was wondering why” he murmured showing you 'The Marauder's Map'. It was night, you couldn't move anywhere anymore and you knew that sooner or later that moment had to come. Still in the dark you saw the silhouette of him get up from the couch and walk in your direction "Are you avoiding me?"

"Sirius..."

"Of course you're avoiding me," he answered himself. The boy took a step towards you and your reaction was to walk two steps back. Sirius stifled a laugh “That's what I refer. Whenever you seem to move towards me and I get closer, you move further away" he muttered. You thought that maybe he was not only referring to the literal part of the sentence “I don't blame you, but I sincerely wonder why you do it. I am a very curious boy” he expressed somewhat ironic. His words hurt because you knew you couldn't give him an explanation "And you're very smart, I'd say too much, and I'm sure you knew my intentions from the moment I asked to speak to you, right?" he continued. He took another step towards you, you stepped back "Do you not like me? You can say no and I will never blame you, but I would have preferred a no sincere to the uncertainty in which I find myself” he explained. Another step, another step "Won't you say anything?" he asked without losing his temper. You were surprised by how calmly he could react to all situations when you were struggling to stay on your feet.

"Sirius, it's not what it seems" you tried to justify yourself. But the man said nothing, because you knew he wanted a more substantial answer than that. You refused to look at him and felt him take another step in your direction, repeating the previous sequence. But this time you felt your back crash against the stone wall and Sirius's arms at your sides, imprisoning you against it.

You looked at his clothes. He was still wearing his uniform but he looked more scruffy and some items were missing. His shirt had a three-quarter sleeve, thanks to the fact that he had picked it up himself.

"Y/N, please" he spoke in a soft voice "I do not ask you to reciprocate, I only ask you to give me an answer"

"I'm terrified Sirius!" you finally said, in a louder voice "I'm completely scared, what else do you want me to tell you?"

"Are you afraid of me?"

"I'm afraid of how you feel about me" you murmured sincerely. Maybe it was time to be honest with him, because you had no other alternative anyway. He had cornered you to it, literally “It scares me that things will change between us, okay? And I like you too, I like you a lot, but I'm afraid of what might happen next" you whispered without looking at him. The heat that emanated from his body hugged you “I like you to tell me all those compliments, even if I say otherwise. I like when you touch our hands, I like that we escape together from class, that when we walk around the outside of the castle you cut flowers to put in my hair, I like to see you every day and I like the cute nicknames you call me with. I like everything about you, Sirius. And that's why I'm so scared of losing you" you exclaimed with a cracking voice. Sirius kept a pious gaze on you. You could feel a bit of his accelerated breath "I've had a lot of good people in my life who have ended up leaving, I don't want that to happen with you..."

"And how will you know if we don't try, love?" he spoke. His voice came out hoarse and with his hand he gently took you by the chin to force you to see him "You could have told me this before and I would have stopped insisting, or we would have discussed it as we are doing now" you looked at him, eyes clouded with tears restrained, and Sirius smiled at you tenderly "I'm not going to force you to do anything, I never would and I never will. But I would... I would like to have something with you. I really like you and if you don't agree I will respect it, but it would be a dream come true to be able to form a relationship "

"Sirius, I don't know how to do it."

"Me neither!" he said, almost excited and managed to make you smile. He carefully wiped the tears that fell from your cheeks. “We could learn together and I promise you that if it doesn't work, I won't let you. If we are not a good couple then we will be friends again and problem solved. But how about we realize that we are ideal for each other? " he muttered. His thumb left slow and delicate caresses on your face “I don't know how to love either, nobody in my family knows how to do it and that's why I never learned to do it. But… being here at Hogwarts I knew what it was like to have friends, to have friends. I learned that my heart races when I see you and that I also like all those things you do for me. I like you to know what my favorite sweets are and buy them for me, I like it when you detangle my hair, when you force me to study, even if I don't like it, because you care about me. When you know that I am sad and you do everything to cheer me up, even when you call me in horrible ways and make fun of me" he laughed, making you smile too "And if you give me the opportunity I know that I can make you very happy and I would also be very happy to be with you. I planned for many days how to say these words to you, but I think now I speak from the heart when I tell you that I like you like no one else has. I'll take care of you, I promise. And I already told you that if this doesn't work, and you decide that way, we will continue to be friends” he concluded. In his eyes you could see that he was also nervous, that he had the same fear as you but that he was better hiding it "Now, if you want me to list the many advantages that I would have as a boyfriend, then doing it" he continued, with a more naughty tone "Don't pay too much attention to me, but I give some excellent kisses..."

"According to whom?"

"According to me!" he said obvious “If you want to check it I am totally available. I mean, just so you know I'm not a liar," he muttered innocently, making you smile from ear to ear.

"Are you sure about this Sirius?"

"From my kisses? Of course"

"About us, you great idiot," you said rolling your eyes and gently pulling a loose lock of his long hair.

"Ouch! If you are going to insult me ​​and pull my hair like that I would prefer that we were in a more private place, my dear” he murmured flirtatiously, putting one of his hands on your waist and closing the distance between you. You looked away but he forced you to look at him again "Of course I'm sure, only if you're sure too" he replied. You sighed, feeling in your stomach a more pleasant emptiness than the previous ones.

"Then ask me"

"What do you want I ask you?"

"What were you planning to ask for days, silly" you said rolling your eyes. Sirius smirked.

"Can you let me copy your Potions project?" he said pretending to be confused and you tried to free yourself from his grip due to lack of seriousness, but he did not allow it. He took you from behind him, putting his arm around your lower back so that his torsos collided and the space between his faces was minimal. You had to lift your head to watch him, but he also looked down to save you a bit of work. His smile faded, but despite the darkness in his eyes you could glimpse a sample of the love he professed for you "Would you like me to be your boyfriend?" he asked softly.

You would remember that moment all your life, his voice low, his sounding in the middle of the darkness with the question that would start his beautiful love story.

"I wouldn’t like it," you said just as seriously, looking into his eyes with a smile. Your hands went up to the back of his neck and you pulled his face gently to place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled "I would love it"

[maximoff-pan]

l’amore de ma vie | fred weasley

Summary: When Fred invites you to Bill and Fleur’s wedding, your feelings for your best friend are stronger than ever before. What happens when you realize just how much you love him?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Fluff...i-is that a warning?? Anyway buckle up for some sickly sweet goodness....

A/n: I know, I’m terrible. It’s been a little while longer than I’d intended but I hope this makes up for it! Feedback is very very much appreciated! I love seeing what all of you think of my writing! Without further rambling from me....enjoy!

Sidenote: This is a total AU. It completely deviates from canon, as Bill and Fleur’s wedding goes smoothly in this version. No violence here haha...only happiness! (I guess what I’m trying to say is, in no way shape or form is this an accurate recollection of the books, this is purely from my imagination...)

• • • • •

“Fucking weddings...” you mutter as you walk through the massive white tent that adorns the front lawn of the Weasley residence. Everything is perfectly displayed, tables meticulously set, with delicate flowers littering the venue.

The romance of it all makes you want to throw yourself into Bill and Fleur’s masterfully crafted, six-tier cake. And watching as Molly rushes in and out swiftly with the brightest smile on her face, it all reminds you of how you should be getting ready right now. But you just can’t stomach that.

It’s not that you’re not happy for Bill....you’re ecstatic and you absolutely adore him. He’s been a role model for you almost your entire life. And it’s not like you’re not an absolute romantic, because you are...but weddings always make things complicated. They manage to dig up feelings that you’d rather not confront.

Feelings for a certain Weasley twin...

That’s why when he (said twin) and George invited you to the wedding, you were reluctant to say yes. It’s hard to pin point exactly when you felt your friendship with Fred (at least on your end), morph into something more, but you’ve managed to keep your feelings for him locked away for the better part of four years. And as far as you’re aware, the only person that’s truly caught on is Hermione...because you’re convinced at this point that she just knows damn well everything.

“Something on your mind?” A voice startles you, bringing your attention back to the bustling world surrounding you.

Turning around slowly, you’re greeted with Bill’s towering figure. You huff out a quick, teasing laugh. “You know, it’s not nice to interrupt a lady’s thoughts.”

“Forgive me,” he chimes with a chuckle of his own.

Bill knows your humour, and he knows you well enough to recognize when you’re using it as a defence mechanism.

“It just looks like you’re about ready to make a run for it,” he continues, “and I wanted to make sure my favourite guest doesn’t ditch me on my wedding day.”

“You know I would never ditch you.”

Bill sends you a look, clearly not impressed by your jokes. You can tell he knows something’s wrong, but you don’t want to be the first one to bring it up.

“I’m fine.” You reassure with a soft smile. “I promise.”

He only nods at you, and he’s not quite sure if he’s convinced, but he’s confident things will work out in the end. “You know, I best be getting ready.” He grins wide. You reciprocate his grin with an additional giggle.

“You best be. Or else Fleur might divorce you on the spot.”

“Wouldn’t that be a shame.” Bill shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I’d have the record for the shortest marriage in wizarding history! Mum would have an absolute shit fit.”

You both burst into a fit of laughter, before you’re nudging him out of the tent and towards his home.

There’s a comfortable pause of silence as Bill thinks to himself. He can see it in your eyes exactly what you’re thinking about. Having been around you for years and Fred even longer, and watching the two of you grow up together, he knows what’s troubling you. Bill Weasley is not a stupid man, and he knows love when he sees it. Better yet, he knows the fear of losing that love that runs rampant in your mind. If Bill has learned anything in his years on this earth, it’s that love allows for the greatest of happiness but it also allows for the greatest manifestation of fear. Unrequited love can be more painful than the relief of returned feelings, but Bill Weasley knows you both well enough to know that these feelings you and his brother share, they’re anything but unrequited.

“I should probably be getting ready too.” You break the silence and remind yourself of the upcoming event as you step through the front door of the Burrow.

You both turn to each other, acknowledging your parting of ways. You hear Arthur shouting for his oldest son from above. “I guess that’s my cue.” Bill simply nods in the direction of the staircase, taking a step towards it. You stand still, just watching him for a moment.

He leans his head over his shoulder for a brief second, already a few steps up the winding stairs. “Oh and (Y/n),” he breathes, “my brother may be an oblivious twat, but to give him some credit, I see the way he looks at you, and I’d be blind to say he isn’t in love with you too.”

In love with you too....

And as soon he’s said it, the cheeky bastard’s disappeared up the stairs, leaving you dumbfounded and completely still.

Fucking hell. Your mind wanders, his words at the forefront....so apparently Bill knows and surely if Bill knows, George must too. Are your feelings for Fred that obvious?

• • • • •

You step through the doorway to Fred and George’s room hoping to find a certain twin. You spot him sitting cross legged on his bed, fiddling with a prototype for the shop that you’re sure you’ve seen him working on before. His ginger hair is messily in his face, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He’s the picture of a working artist....pranking materials being his art. You heave a sigh. Like you, he’s nowhere near ready for the wedding that is going to take place in a few hours.

“Do you know?” His head whips up at the sound of your voice. It’s such a vague question, one in which a normal person would question what it itself is in relation to, but George knows exactly what you’re getting at. But maybe he’ll screw with you a little first....

“I know lots of things love. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

A groan passes your lips. Maybe he doesn’t know....but the way his lips are turned upward, the smirk that seems to be growing on his face tells you otherwise. You’re not blind; you know the games George Weasley likes to play.

“Don’t be coy asshole.” You send him a look that says ‘try me.’ “I know you know. My question is, why haven’t you told me that you know?”

“I haven’t a clue what you mean.” He continues testing the waters of your frustration, seeing just how far he can go before you snap.

“Oh fuck me!” You exclaim, hands thrown up in the air. You point at him, eyes narrowing in his direction. “You’re a prick George.”

His grin only widens. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong twin (Y/n). Last time I checked, Freddie’s the one you want to fuck.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And....Bingo. There it is. The exact confirmation you wanted and feared.

You recoil, eyes widening at him. Your voice goes soft, serious. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?”

His warm eyes meet yours, a calmness to them that is surprisingly reassuring. “I’ve made a living out of not taking things seriously and meddling in other people’s lives (Y/n), but what you and Fred have, I won’t meddle in that.” He pauses for a moment, his voice softening. “It’s not my business to push you two together. You’ll realize it at your own pace.”

“Realize what at your own pace?” Fred leans his body against the doorframe. He’s dressed in a suit, his hair done up nicely, and unlike his twin, he looks entirely put together. The irony almost makes you laugh. You’ve always known George to be the prepared one, ready hours before he needed to be. And Fred a scambler, leaving everything to the last second, to be fashionably late was his life motto.

“Just how stupid the two of you are going to look all dressed up with no dates.” George answers for you, keeping the true nature of your conversation a secret. “Even Ginny’s managed to catch the chosen one.”

You huff out a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“Ah,” George muses. “But I am an idiot with a date.”

Fred grins at the two of you and your banter. “Angelina’s better off without you as her date.” He jokes.

A laugh passes your throat, Fred joining in with you. “Oh, sod off!” George pipes before shoving the two of you out to get ready.

• • • • •

Hours later you find yourself ready on time, a shocking revelation to you and each of the Weasley’s. And George is too. He sits beside you grinning like a mad man. Fred is on your other side, smiling all the same.

The ceremony is wonderful and quaint. You knew the moment you saw Fleur all those years ago, just how beautiful she was, but you never could have imagined just how much you’d grow to think of her like a sister. And it’s funny because you’re neither a Delacour nor a Weasley, and yet you feel like you belong. It’s different from the love you know Harry and Hermione feel for the Weasley’s, because ultimately, they’ll both marry in and it will be official, and as much as you love Fred, you know that will likely never be the case for you. But that’s the thing you love most about Molly and Arthur and their children: you don’t have to be related by marriage or blood to be a Weasley.

And seeing Fleur and Bill smile, seeing the pure happiness that they exude in this moment, it makes you forget why you ever questioned coming. It makes you hope that one day you can find what they have. You’d spent the last few minutes mesmerized by their first dance as a married couple. You’re so caught in a trance that you don’t hear the clapping when they’ve finished and stepped off the dance floor.

Your eyes snap up at the clearing of a throat beside you. George nudges you and you turn to look at him. He points at Fred who’s gazing at you curiously. You must have looked like a daft idiot, an utter love struck expression on your face.

“I’m sorry.” You laugh. “Did you say something Freddie?”

“Dance with me?” He asks.

Fred’s question lingers as you contemplate whether or not to accept his outstretched arm. But then your eyes drift up to his, and you catch the mischievous glint that rests in them. It’s in that moment that you know there is no turning back.

Groaning, you relent into his touch. “One dance.” You say, but you know that if he asked, you’d dance the night away.

The grin that spreads onto his face is nothing short of beautiful. It’s unmistakably perfect the way the light catches his features, his ginger hair glowing in the overcast moonlight, and an ethereal aura glistens from his skin. Fred looks youthful...and he looks undeniably happy.

Gripping your hand, he leads you to the dance floor. You catch a brief glimpse of Bill whose lips are tugged into an encouraging smile. Fred snaps your attention back to him as he pulls you into his body, bringing your arms to rest around his shoulders. You can hear the faint thrumming of the slow and melodic music drifting towards you, but all you register is the sound of Fred’s heart beating against yours. Wrapping yourself in his embrace, you allow yourself one second to believe that he might feel the same.

Your feet move in sync almost flawlessly, and it’s as if you’re reading each other’s movements without any effort. (Despite being known for your clumsy nature). But if you’re being honest, it’s always been like that with Fred....easy that is. Easy to read each other, easy to be with each other. It’s just natural. 

“You’re quite graceful Freddie.” You nudge him playfully, breaking the silence between you. 

“And you’re quite...” his voice drifts softly, “something.”

The half scoff, half laugh you let out rings in his ears. “Are you implying that I’m not a good dancing partner?”

“You’re a formidable partner love, just a shit dancer.”

Your eyes light up in amusement. “Well we can’t all be as graceful and beautiful as you Fred Weasley.”

He plays along happily. “No.” He agrees. “I guess we can’t. But I reckon everything else about you, your beauty, your wit, your affinity for kindness, makes up for your lack of dancing skills.”

It’s that self assured attitude that draws you to him. Yet he’s not the slightest bit arrogant. He simply believes in himself, knows his strengths and his weaknesses, is completely aware of his self worth, and he won’t let anyone tell him otherwise. It’s addicting to be around, and a quality so desperately you wish you could find in yourself.

And when Fred compliments you, you can believe that he’s telling you the truth. He makes you believe things about yourself that you would never dream to think about on your own. As cheesy as it sounds, he makes you feel seen. He makes you feel special. And it’s so strange because for as long as you can remember, everyone has always thought of you as merely the best friend of the infamous Weasley twins. Hardly to anyone had you been your own person with your own identity. But Fred never made you feel like that. You’ve always been someone to him, not just a product of who you chose to be friends with.

“You shouldn’t say things like that you know.” Your voice goes quiet.

Fred notices the change in your body language as you begin to close yourself off from him. “Why not?” He asks. “It’s the truth isn’t it?”

Your eyes catch his and your breath hitches. This feels like something. It feels like a moment, the moment that you’ve been waiting for. You never believed Fred could ever feel the same for you, but the look he’s giving you feels so so real.

“Fred, do you-“ You start, but he cuts in for you.

“Feel it too?” He finishes.

“Yeah.”

“I do.” He replies.

Your heart races in your chest as he pulls you closer into his embrace. This confession of feelings is nearly wordless, and yet it feels perfect. You’ve never needed to say a lot to Fred for him to understand you.

You’ve always just had that kind of connection.

You barely notice that you’re still dancing, your bodies moving on autopilot. And the people around you fade to nothing. Your focus is solely on the man who holds your heart in his hands.

Your movements slow as Fred tilts your chin towards his face. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 11 years old.” He says. It’s nearly impossible for your mind to process it. “I’ve known for so long, I just didn’t want to ruin what we have. But I reckon if there’s ever a time to do it, now seems pretty good.”

A gentle smile rests on your face, your heart warm at his words. “Now is perfect.”

Fred hums softly, his warm brown eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. He sees nothing but adoration staring right back at him.

“Can I kiss you?” This is the first time you’ve seen Fred so timid.

You smile coyly, nodding your head. “Such a gentleman.” You tease, pulling him gently towards you. Your lips meet so softly and briefly that you almost miss it.

But no matter how brief, it’s a feeling you’ll never forget. You both want more of each other, but you also know that standing in front of Fred’s immediate and extended family and friends, you can’t simply put on a show for the world to see, as much as he wants to.

You pull back for a moment only to find yourself wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying to the music. Most people in your situation would say something. Maybe they’d profess their love, or whisper sweet nothings into their lover’s ear, but right here, right now, words don’t need to be used.

You don’t need to say I love you to feel that you are loved. And you know Fred feels the same.

• • • • •

Off to the side, Bill takes a moment to part from his wife, approaching his younger brother with a shit eating grin.

“Bloody hell.” George runs a hand through his hair, spotting Bill striding towards him.

Their eyes lock for a moment and George notices his oldest brother’s lip quirk upward. “You owe me 20 galleons.” Bill states matter-of-factly.

George grumbles, reaching into his pocket to pull out the payment. Handing it to Bill, he smiles. “Get back to your wife you tosser.”

Bill nods, taking a step towards Fleur. He turns to face his brother, eyes glinting with mischief. “Just know, when they get married, I’m telling everyone I won.”

///////////////////

Taglist:

@amourtentiaa

[writefightandflightclub]

Somebody to love (PART 1/2): Richard Alonso Munoz x fem!reader

Summary: Whilst your neighbour, Richard, is in love with love, you are a little more commitment averse. When he performs a small act of kindness though, your feelings start to unravel, and you wonder if you may have found somebody to love - right next-door all along.

Richard is a sweet, gentle man, and so I hoped to create a sweet, gentle story. I hope you enjoy spending some time in it!

I HAVE POSTED THIS IN TWO PARTS, ONLY BECAUSE OF LENGTH. WHILST YOU COULD PROBABLY(?) READ EITHER PART AS A STANDLONE THEY ARE MEANT TO WORK TOGETHER.

Genre / tropes: pining, friends to lovers (sort of - neighbours to lovers), getting together, domesticity, fluff, smut, nothing bad happens, ends happily, quite a slow burn for a one-shot, I guess?

Author’s note: This is part of my friends to lovers event, prompt requested by @foxilayde who I adore and you should too. Prompt was: he does something utterly mundane which shows how well he knows you, and your feelings hit you. I took some liberties with the prompt, and there is zero pressure to read this - IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB! :P More of these requests in pinned post!

Warnings/ Ratings:

PART ONE (Mature, 18+ ONLY): swearing; sexual themes (erotic poetry, thirsty internal monologue, sexual tension); food themes inc. mentions/consumption; family mentions - reader has nieces but they need not be biological; brief mentions of the prison system - Richard is a Corrections Officer; exceedingly brief mention of the Holocaust in context of a non-fiction book Richard is reading (I believe this is a canon read but may be wrong); loneliness (theme, not too angsty); self-esteem issues if you squint.

PART TWO: (Explicit, 18+ ONLY): swearing; explicit sex, including - oral m + f receiving; unprotected vaginal sex; creampie; f squirting (first time doing so); well-endowed man, ahem.

Word count: 10k for part 1, 9k for part 2.

You had been thinking about the small gesture all day. You had been distracted all the way through your shift, and then all through dinner with a friend.

Richard -your neighbour to the right- had turned-up at your door that morning, before setting off on his way to work. His visit had been unexpected, and you had opened the door in a fluster, seeing him greet you with a characteristically soft smile - just visible from beneath the thick brush of his bold, impressive moustache.

He had held them out to you - in between his index and middle finger. A small book of postage stamps.

You had simply looked at him in confusion for a moment.

“For your letters,” he had stated, in his soft-spoken voice. “You said last night you didn’t have any stamps, and I found these in my drawer, so...”

It was true. You had said that. Had forgotten you’d said it. Had barely registered running into him, since it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Your routine overlapped minimally with Richard’s -though more so since his new role in the letter room had him working days exclusively- but sometimes, you would meet serendipitously, as neighbours tend to do. Last night, in the liminal space between your work day ending and your home life beginning, you had stopped to chat with him, and -you remembered now- had made some offhand comment about needing some stamps.

The topic of letters had come up; naturally, given his new position. It caused you to mention having written some letters to your nieces -packaged up with little illustrated portraits you’d gotten commissioned for their new bedrooms. Letters which you hadn’t gotten around to posting.

And so, here Richard was. On your doorstep. With stamps.

It was a little thing. So little, it didn’t even register at the time. In fact, you had bundled him off your porch with a quick, cursory “Thanks, Richard!”, prioritising finishing your morning scramble and making it out of the door on time.

It didn’t register in the moment, no; but you were noticing it now, alright.

“-so, this morning,” you explain to your friend opposite you in the pizza parlour, as she absent-mindedly dips her crusts in some hot sauce, “there he is on my doorstep, and he’d brought me some stamps.”

Your friend, Jaz, dips her chin and slowly raises her perfectly shaped eyebrows, her glossed lips curling in an amused, incredulous smile. “So, let me get this straight. He brought you some... stamps, which he already had, from his house next door,” she recaps, her smile inching wider by the second, “and now you want to fuck him?!”. Her eyebrows knit together in faux concern and she clamps a hand over yours where it rests on the table. “Sweetie, we need to talk. How low is your bar these days? Exactly how dick-starved are you?”

Ordinarily you’d be more than game for the light fun she pokes at you. Would even have a smart riposte ready. This time, though, you simply huff, your jaw twitching in minor irritation at how flippant she is being. So, shaking your head gently, you pull your hand away from hers, folding your jacket around yourself, suddenly feeling exceedingly self-conscious.

“Never mind. I’m obviously not telling it right. And, wait - hold up- who in the hell said I wanted to...” you look around the parlour, voice dropping to an indignant whisper as if anyone around you would hear or care about your hypothetical sexploits “...fuck him?” Your tone is defensive, and you shift to take a masking nibble on your straw, slurping the dregs of your soda and bouncing your leg nervously under the table.

Your friend merely raises an eyebrow, with a healthy -and not entirely unfounded- scepticism, and so, you try to rein your protestations in, lest you get slammed with a “methinks you doth protest too much”.

“Okay, okay,” Jaz concedes, holding up her hands and leaning back in her chair. “All I’m saying is, it seems like you have a hard-on for him all of a sudden. You’ve lived by him for years and you’ve never noticed the guy! It’s just stamps, baby cakes. It’s just your paunchy, kindly neighbour, who gets milkshake stuck in his moustache.”

At least he’s not afraid to make a mess of himself when he’s slurping, you think idly, your eyebrow ticking up - the thought leading you in a very particular direction and sending a sudden scorching heat to your cheeks. Also - paunchy? I like a beautiful soft tummy to rest my head on, thank you very much.

Yeesh. You are not okay. Still, before you go full feral, you shrug your shoulders in partial concession, widening your eyes in innocence. “Uh huh. Sure. Yeah.” 

“Seriously?” Jaz continues, shaking her head in good-natured disbelief - blatantly seeing right through you. “Are stamps your love language now, or what the fuck?”

She’s not wrong. It is very… sudden. You’ve never felt that way about Richard before. But is it so preposterous to think you might begin to?

“Jeez! Who said anything about love?!” You swirl your straw in your cup, concentrating on puncturing the remaining bubbles and ignoring your friend’s peals of bemused laughter. “Look, okay? I guess you’re right, Jaz. Maybe I’m just dick-starved,” you suggest, a smile finally claiming your lips. “It has been… a little while. And the last encounter was not very... inspiring.” You wiggle your eyebrows at her and your shared laughter mingles in the space between you. Still, you’re more than a little keen to deflect, and you bounce your foot more furiously under the table in your haste to change the subject. “I just thought it was sweet of him, that’s all, but… forget it, okay? Tell me everything about your hot date with Jackson.”

As soon as the invitation is given, Jaz jumps on it. And, as you listen to her spill the tea on her latest hook-ups with her fancy man, you try really hard to focus - but you can’t help that your thoughts keep wandering time and again to a certain man. A man with the kindest, most soulful cola-coloured eyes. Your neighbour to the right.  

You’re unsure why, but you feel a little bent out of shape - a little annoyed, even- that Jaz was so quick to dismiss Richard. Particularly that she had seemed to miss the whole meaning behind his small gesture. He was listening to you. He was thinking about you. And, as you dwell further on it, you realise that maybe -just maybe- you want the kind of guy who brings you stamps, goddammit.

Shit - maybe Jaz wasn’t too far off when she said stamps were your love language after all.

And, true, maybe you hadn’t paid the faintest bit of romantic attention to Richard -for the most part- in the years you’d lived side-by-side with him... but maybe it was time to start. Maybe, in fact, it was well overdue.

***

Granted, it hadn’t struck you right away how sweet Richard’s gesture was, but as soon as it had, you started to notice everything. To remember everything.

You remembered how he pushed a flyer through your door one evening, just in case you might be interested in the latest art exhibit going on at the local rec centre. You recalled how he had duct-taped the handle of your garbage can back together after it spectacularly broke one morning, causing your trash to spill over the sidewalk. It hadn’t seemed like a huge thing at the time, but now, as you imagine him painstakingly unfurling the roll and passing it around and around the broken piece, entirely on his own steam, it takes on a new meaning.

You have begun to notice - really notice- how he always smiles and stops to chat to you, his face lighting up as if he is genuinely pleased to see you. You have begun to notice everything he has done for you, over the years, a deluge of kindness flooding your heart. Details -little things- which seemed insignificant at the time, but which weigh heavier than gold now that you reflect on them.

And, most of all, you have noticed him.

Richard.

You have noticed his positivity. That bounce he gets in his step when he’s enthusiastic about something (which is always). The way his expressive, long-lashed eyes reveal everything he’s feeling whenever he talks or listens - his emotions and his compassionate heart pinned firmly on his sleeve, as prominent as his Corrections Officer badge. You notice how handsome he is; a fact which has inexplicably passed you by for the longest time. Perhaps, because of how understated he is? Not cocky and assured and alpha like the guys you’re usually drawn to.

Tonight, though, most of all, you are noticing that he’s not home, as you sit on your front porch steps, entirely locked out of your own house. You know for a fact that a couple of neighbours have spotted you there - you’ve observed pairs of curtains twitching- and yet no-one has come to your aid so far, mean bastards. You know, in contrast, that Richard would help anyone who needed it, without hesitation. And, it’s fair to say that sitting here, waiting for him to return and help you out, is certainly providing you plenty of opportunity to dwell on thoughts of him. In fact, you can’t wait for him to get home; not only because you wish for relief from the elements, no. But because the thought of seeing him actually excites you. You are looking forward to it.

Finally, thankfully, after the evening chill has long begun to bite at your extremities, you see Richard approaching. He whistles a jaunty tune as he comes up his drive, happy as usual. From his silhouette, you note that he’s dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and his usual ill-fitting jeans, his keys already jangling in his hand, and he stops abruptly when he sees you sat out front as though his feet are glued to the floor.

You can just about make out the smile which tugs at his lips, moments before his words do. He always seems happy to see you, and, on this occasion, you echo that feeling too, more so than ever. “Locked out?” he calls, and at the sound of his voice you stand, hopefully, clasping your purse on your shoulder, your own feet glued to the floor too.

“Yeah,” you call, throwing your voice over to him. “Waiting for the locksmith.”

You grip the strap of your purse a little tighter, as Richard takes a few steps closer, a polite but cautious smile lighting his face. “Want to wait inside?”

“Hell yes,” you gush with a relieved exhale of breath, gratefully trotting around to meet him on his porch where the security light bathes him in a halo of orange. “You’re a babe. Thank you, Richard.” You allow your eyes to gently rove over him as you approach. He’s wearing a turquoise bowling shirt, you realise. A bowling shirt with “Alonso Muñoz” stitched in an adorable flourish of red embroidery above the left shirt pocket. What’s more, he looks cute as all hell in it too. You seem to recall he’s in a casual league with some buddies.

“It’s no trouble,” he says with a warm, disarming smile, deep, pleasing creases radiating from around his eyes – and, even though you aren’t usually one to be lost for words, it is all you can do to smile back at him vacantly, clutching your purse strap tight enough that your knuckles strain.

Richard pauses too, seemingly taking a moment to remember the keys bunched and readied in his hand - as though your presence has pushed all other thoughts out of his head. “You must be cold. Let’s get you warmed up,” he says finally, snapping himself out of his stupor.

Yes please.

And so, with a bashful flutter of his long lashes as you shuffle even closer to him, Richard opens the door and guides you inside, hover-handing his palm at the small of your back.

He smiles widely as he is welcomed by his little fur ball, Lady, the white dog yipping and wagging and jumping up at his shins. Richard stoops to bundle her into his arms, the animal rasping its tongue over his shapely jaw, which he raises as he squirms away from the wet, eager kisses.

“Aw, you’re so precious, Lady,” you baby-talk, reaching out to apply fond scritches to the mop of her head. “I forget how cute you are, little bean!”

Richard chuckles with mirth, seemingly warmed by your sweet interaction with his pupper, and only when Lady gets restless in his arms does he set about plopping her down and refilling her food bowl.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Richard offers, before he briefly excuses himself, dipping away into another room and signalling he’ll be right back.

With Richard gone and Lady chowing down on her dried food, you take the opportunity to glance around the place, surprised by how at home you do feel, already, even though you’ve never set foot in here before. You’ve been in his yard before; for example, when he’s hosted block barbeques, or, when the summer sun has withered from your yard, you’ve sometimes shimmied your deck chair to be side by side with his as you languished together in the remaining patch of sun. But you’ve never been inside his home. Now that you are, you drink in the details of him, eager for any new information you can glean, and scanning over the books and paintings and photographs with particular interest. You smile as your eyes fall upon Lady’s bed, filled with a procession of carefully arranged stuffed animals and chew toys.  You are warmed by the painting of a beachy, mountain-edged, palm-fronded sunset, propped against the ‘sill.

You note that his place is homely and well-tended, and you also can’t help but notice that the place signals a rather solitary existence. One plate and one fork drying on the dish rack. A perfectly placed easy chair -for one- in front of the TV, the small couch to its side covered with stacks of books and papers, as if it has been a while since he entertained a guest. In fact, you would take a seat -make yourself at home- but you don’t want to intrude on His Seat, and nor do you wish to disturb his personal papers to clear the couch.

As you ponder this, Richard re-enters, extending a soft, flannel shirt towards you. “Here. In case you’re cold.”

You smile your thanks to him (grinning like a dumbass, actually) and you gratefully slip the garment over your shoulders, feeling instantly warmed. As you wrap it around yourself, you get a waft of fresh-scented detergent. You would never have guessed that you’d be able to recognise any particular Richard-y scent, but as the shirt’s pleasant odour engulfs you, you realise it is infinitely familiar. That it is wildly comforting.

You watch, a brief moment of awkwardness as Richard self-consciously combs his fingers through his thick moustache; sweeps a hand over his already immaculate, plastered-down curls. He looks so... neat. Controlled. Restrained. It crosses your mind that you’d like to mess him up a bit, see him come undone - of course, if he wanted.

Then, noticing your seating predicament, Richard surges over to gather up the strewn piles of mess, shifting them on to the coffee table instead. “Here, take a seat,” he indicates. “Sorry for the mess- I emptied the bureau looking for the stamps. Please. Every time I think to put it back I get distracted.”

His comment is nonchalant, but for the second time since he arrived home, you are at a loss for words, and you can only stare at him as you sink your ass down, gratefully, on to the now emptied couch. He’d gone to that effort for you? And now he’s apologising right to your face for the mess of it?

“That was kind of you, Richard,” you state, finding words again, and he shuffles nervously from shoe to shoe in response. You note that his brown skin grows increasingly flushed, with a deepening undertone of crimson as his eyes skim cautiously over you. “And thank you for letting me hang here. Promise I’ll be out of your hair soon. The locksmith should only be...” You suck in air through your teeth as you un-pocket your cell and glance at the time. “Yikes. Another hour. I’m so sorry to get in the way.”

His moustache twitches with a shy smile, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at you from beneath his lashes, his eyes all big and pretty. He certainly doesn’t look put-out, at least. “Not at all - it’s… really nice to have you here,” Richard insists, polite and sincere as ever. You are the one to feel bashful now, and you tug his shirt more firmly around your shoulders for comfort, the act serving to further fluster you and entrance him, it seems. He seems frozen to the spot again, and meanwhile, you’re now feeling overly warmed.

He looks a little lost, for a moment, as though it’s been so long since he had a visitor that he doesn’t quite know what to do with you. In the next second though, his practiced hospitality kicks in, his warm and affable nature shining through as he determines a course of action. “Have you eaten? I could fix you some dinner.”

You are hungry, you think, your tongue darting out along your bottom lip at the thought of food. Well, if he’s going to feed you, you’re not letting him do all the work -you decide- so you tentatively rise from your seat, clapping your palms together, signifying action. “Only if I can help you?”

“O- okay. Yeah. Thank you,” he nods; then, he comes to stand with his hands on his hips, thumbs to the front, causing his soft, rounded belly to protrude exaggeratedly from under his shirt. You’re not sure why that sends a very subtle flare of heat down between your legs, but it does all the same.

Meanwhile, oblivious to your thirsty inner monologue, Richard looks at you reservedly, until you smile and cross together to the humble kitchen, where, with another bashful flutter of his lashes he begins grabbing out utensils and ingredients. All the while, he moves seamlessly around you, so careful never to touch or to invade your personal space. The pronounced and careful lack of contact makes you realise, however -as he skims his body so close yet so far from yours in the compact space- that maybe you desperately want him to touch you. That you wouldn’t mind if his hand brushed your back, or lower. That maybe having him envelop his arms around you would feel as warm and comforting as his shirt – or even more so. That even, perhaps, if he pressed you from behind into the counter, his soft stomach leading, followed by his wide hips pinning you in place, his moustache grazing up the column of your neck, that you wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, the thought of his touch, and even the mere potential of it, fills you with an excited buzz deep in your belly. A thrill that you haven’t felt for a long time – at least, not quite like this.

Right now, though, you set these thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand. You move around each other a little awkwardly, but thankfully, the conversation flows far more easily than your bodies. Richard’s shy and gentle, but he’s friendly. Inquisitive and interesting, and he keeps you chatting. And, so, you converse and cook together, until the resulting, homely odours waft into your nose, keeping your mind firmly on your much more literal hunger; at least, for the most part.

When the steaming food is plated up, Richard invites you to take a seat on the couch and you oblige, watching him fondly and with interest as he produces various condiments, a bottle of Mr. Chimi’s Churri sauce taking pride of place on the surface in front of you. You add a healthy dollop.

“Mmm, this is so good, thank you,” you say approvingly when he invites you to dig in, eagerly wolfing down forkfuls.

As soon as Richard has plonked himself down in his chair and balanced his own plate on his lap, he flicks on the TV – likely, more out of habit than anything. A vibrant telenovela sparks to life in the background, a particularly melodramatic scene in full swing. You smile to yourself. You recognise the show - you’ve heard him talk about it too. Even get the impression he watches religiously.

Richard’s eyes fix on the screen for a moment, and he is visibly suckered-in by the unfolding plot, his food disappearing at an impressive rate as he scoops it up to his mouth while he watches. Still, he doesn’t forget you’re there. Quite the contrary.

“It’s so sad,” he explains for your benefit, between his mouthfuls of dinner, his eyes overflowing with warmth as he turns to you. “Carlos and Adela are so in love, but they can’t be together. She’s engaged to Luis. She has to stay with him to save the family home because she already signed some papers.”

You smile, Richard’s heartfelt summary filling you with warmth. He cares about people. It’s what he does. Apparently, he’s even invested in the fictional ones. You try hard to supress your good-natured amusement at quite how invested he is; however, when his gaze meets yours once again, flicking back and forth between you and the screen, he must catch a hint of it in your expression. “Sorry,” he flusters. “I can turn this off, if you like?” he offers gently, eyes apologetic.

“Are you kidding?” you respond, with a warm smile. You’re no stranger to becoming over-invested in fiction, you suppose, and besides - you like the prospect of sharing this with him. “Catch me up some more,” you encourage. “So, we’re rooting for Carlos?”

Richard smiles gratefully, nodding vigorously in response. You like seeing him like this. In his own element, his own environment, doing things he typically enjoys. It’s nice to see him living his best life, thriving on the drama of the trope-laden plot. “I hope Carlos crashes the wedding. Luis doesn’t deserve her.”

“Yikes. You’re brutal, Alonso Muñoz,” you tease, a musical laugh lilting out of you.

You chat back and forth, an amused smile twitching at the corner of your mouth for the duration, and although Richard seems somewhat entranced by the developing storyline, he seems even more invested in you. He makes sure to listen to you, even when you’re sure you must be talking over an important detail. He ensures he fills you in on any prior plot point you may need for context.

And, while his eyes do intermittently flick back toward the screen, your eyes, however, remain firmly fixed on him. On the singular swoop of his meticulously parted, grizzled curls. On his long lashes blinking, his deep eyes shining beneath them, glinting in tandem with the light from the screen. His warm, brown skin and the lines etched in it when he smiles cast with a bluish hue, flickering light and shadow ghosting over the contours of his strong nose and chin and his heavy brow. The soft, inviting rolls of his stomach as he relaxes into his chair, and the way his belly shakes when he laughs. Of course, his glorious moustache, positively flourishing on his upper lip. Last but not least, what most gets you though, are his eyes. Eyes as kind and expressive and open as this sweet man’s heart is.

You laugh alongside him, hoping he is enjoying the company as much as you are. You could get used to this, you think; used to him. Indeed, you have no idea how you have managed to overlook this man, beautiful inside and out, until now. You resolve though, that you won’t make that same mistake again.

Eventually, the credits roll, and you thank Richard once more for the food. He carries your plate over to the sink, insisting -when you offer- that the dishes can languish there for one night. And so, instead of rising, you pat the couch cushion beside you invitingly. His throat bobs around a hard swallow as he stands before you, his feet momentarily glued to the floor; yet again. When Richard finally musters movement and takes a seat next to you, he places himself as far away from you as he possibly can on the small two-seater; out of respect rather than repulsion, you are more than sure. However, the compact space affords him little chance to keep his distance, and his clothed thigh presses warm against your own. He doesn’t make any attempt to move away though, and, equally, nor do you.

“Thank you, Richard,” you say, your voice softer and far more breathy than you intended, now that he is so close to you.

He clears his throat self-consciously, before his eyes crease with a sincere smile. “It’s no trouble. Anytime.” He sounds like he means it too.

You lean back, settling yourself deeper into the worn and slightly lumpy couch cushions. His posture, meanwhile, is still alarmingly stiff beside you, his torso upright and his hands folded formally in his lap. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d say that, perhaps, you made him nervous.

“Richard, I don’t bite,” you soothe. “Sit back. Relax. It’s your home.”

He nods in concession, exhaling his tensely held breath. “Yes, Ma’am,” he sounds obediently. You don’t think you’ve ever had anyone call you Ma’am before; but you note that you don’t entirely mind it, out of Richard’s mouth. You maybe even… like it?

Anyway, outside of your increasingly feral internal monologue, Richard reaches over to flick on the soft, ambient lamp to his side -the room having grown thick with shadows- and then he is sinking back, resting his head against the couch cushions alongside you.

You turn your head and tilt your torso a little towards him. When Richard does the same, it evokes a sense of intimacy that you weren’t all the way prepared for; the rest of the room seems to disappear as you are both held in a close circle of oranged light, the TV nothing but a lulling, background hum now. “I mean it... I... I wanted to thank you properly. For the stamps.”

“It’s no trouble,” he repeats, his voice deep and resonant and close now, catching you off-guard. No trouble? Sure. Despite the fact he’d clearly emptied-out everything in his living room to find them. “Did you send your letters?” he enquires softly, his eyebrows jumping up a little.

You can’t supress the bittersweet smile which inches over your face as you respond. “I did, and I got the cutest video call from my nieces when their mail arrived.” That wouldn’t have happened. Not without him being so thoughtful. You’d have put it off and put it off. The letters would still be sat on your dresser.  

Richard’s eyes light, and he looks genuinely pleased for you, his face glowing. “I’m glad.” He smiles, revealing a flash of his cute, ever so slightly imperfect (and therefore entirely perfect) teeth. Finally beginning to relax again, his hands rest flat astride his sturdy thighs and his head lolls towards you. With his next words, his voice becomes even softer. “I can tell you miss them since they moved away. Portland, right? I, uh. I really hoped you would send those letters. I know how much they can mean to people.”

“Portland. Yeah. Wow, you remember that?” You have to admit that you are a little shocked. Richard listened to you. Really listened to you. And, not only that, but he clearly read between the lines, connecting the dots between each one of your ad hoc interactions in a way which you -apparently- had failed to do thus far.

Jaz would scoff at you right now, you know it, if she could see you becoming all shy and flustered for him.

And now you want to fuck him?

But it wasn’t only that he brought you the stamps, okay? It was why he did it. He did it, because he knew what it might mean for you. Because, evidently, not only did he notice that you were sad -about something you barely let yourself acknowledge, by the way- but he also cared enough to try to make you happy instead.

The realisation that he cares is an emotional thing, causing a slight lump to rise in your throat. It should probably make you happy, but in fact, it saddens you. It saddens you because -you realise now- you have taken for granted all this time how easy Richard is to talk to. Have taken for granted the way he has been privy to so many candid details about your life.

Richard has often been the first person you’ve spoken to when you arrived home -sometimes the only person- and you have never hesitated to share your good news and triumphs with him. Nor have you hesitated to vent, sharing the more difficult details of your bad days. You’ve taken for granted just how much of yourself you’ve cumulatively shared with him; in a way you don’t often share with anyone else. Richard has been an important part of your life all these years, without you truly realising it. Perhaps because your interactions with him have tended to exist in such a liminal, peculiar space in your day. Perhaps because you were too close to see the big picture, instead of this collection of valuable, little things.

You hug your arms around yourself. You can merely repeat it again. “Thank you. For real.”

“It’s just a little thing,” he dismisses, modestly, and you are very suddenly tired of him dismissing himself. You want him to know how appreciated he is. Embodying this, your hand darts out to grip his where it rests on his thigh, and Richard looks down at this small spectacle in mild shock; and yet, he doesn’t pull away from your touch.

“It’s not. It’s a lot of things, Richard. I want you to know I appreciate everything you do. It has... It has been a long time since anyone was so sweet to me.”

Feeling self-conscious suddenly, following your outburst of affection, you inch your hand away from his; retreating, and reining yourself back in. For a moment, Richard’s fingers twitch up from his pant leg as though they might chase yours; but then, his hand stills, settled on his thigh just as before.

Then, a crease appears at his brow. “None of your Adonises are sweet to you?”

Your nose crinkles in confusion. “My... Adonises?”

“The... your... gentlemen visitors.”

Your brow creases, as you try to detect whether there is any judgement or malice in his observation, but, knowing him, you are not inclined to think there is. Still, you feel there is more to uncover. He’s noticed your dates coming and going then? He thinks they’re… Adonises? He’s surprised they aren’t sweet to you?

Still, as soon as the words are out of his mouth, perhaps realising how they might be misinterpreted, that crimson undertone to his skin flares again, this time reaching all the way to the tips of his ears. He looks like he wants the couch to swallow him up, and you can’t help but feel for him. “I just meant...”

“-It’s okay,” you say, swooping in to rescue him before he can start helplessly blabbering. He keenly takes the invitation to stop, his mouth suddenly clamping shut, ready to listen. And you? You are ready to talk. The words seem to come so easily around him. “I guess... you’re right. I’ve been on some dates but they...” you sigh, furrowing your brow as you try to find the words. “That’s all fine. Most of the time it’s really fun. Or it was. But... lately...”

“Lately?” Richard encourages, when you don’t go on, his voice barely above a whisper as he hangs on your every word.

“Lately, I think… That maybe it would be nice to have somebody who doesn’t just come and go. To have… somebody to love, I guess?”

“Somebody to love,” Richard ponders, his expression becoming wistful. His head begins moving up and down ever so slowly, gradually building to a more adamant nod. He smiles, but his eyes don’t crease at the corners this time. “That really does sound nice.”

It shocks you, but seeing him even a little sad, like that, has your hands fisting in the material of your skirt, as you resist the urge to reach out for him and offer comfort. You want to cup his face in your hand and kiss him senseless, until his eyes glow once more, imbued with his characteristic positivity. You want to care for him and protect him and make him laugh and spend time with him and…

Fuck.

You want to love him, you realise, and the thought scares you down to your bones. It scares you enough that you sit forwards, breaking this most peculiar tension. Changing the topic. And, abrupt as it may be, at least it works.

“What are you reading?” you ask, shrugging his shirt from your shoulders as a hot, cloying flush creeps along your skin and up your neck, prickly enough that it feels like fingertips. As you imagine Richard’s fingers dancing the same path over your bare shoulder blade, slipping beneath the spaghetti strap of your top, peeling it down, you hurriedly pick up the first book you can put your hands on, turning it in your palms without taking in a word written on it.

Poor Richard. You must be giving the sweet man whiplash.

Still, he leans forward in his seat too, sombrely taking the book from your hands and gazing down at the cover.

“Ah. It’s a bleak topic,” he warns. A deep crease appears in his brow. “It’s Night, by Elie Wiesel – a survivor’s account of his experiences during the Holocaust.”

Your expression turns grave and pinched and you nod, listening carefully as Richard recounts some of the key details. Then, together, you continue to pore through the pile, tackling each book in turn. You listen intently to Richard recount the various synopses, passionate and precise and sensitive in his summaries. It seems he reads a lot of non-fiction. Heavy reading, with many titles about the prison system, and atrocities - often both. But, you understand why it’s important to him. You are grateful to understand how his empathetic nature begets yet more empathy, as he seeks to expand his knowledge of experiences and histories different to his own. 

At first sight, you think it’s seemingly at odds that such a positive man seeks out such dark accounts, but it makes sense to you, in a strange way. After all, he wants to understand how things can be better. He believes they can be. You don’t know anything more Richard-y than that.

Reaching for the next title, you find it is a little different to the rest. You are reluctant to segue too abruptly from such heavy topics, keen to give them the merit they deserve, but at the same time you are grateful for a little lightness as you pick-up what appears to be a slightly trashy romance novel. You smile fondly, connecting the dots between this and the telenovela plotlines that seem to grab his attention; the way he seems so in love with love. Again, you consider how the two sides of him -the more serious and seemingly more trivial - may seem at odds, but that actually, they each reveal what is at the core of him. He is interested in people. He’s invested.

“And this book?” you ask tentatively, not even trying to stifle your smile as your eyes wander over the cover, two half-dressed people locked in an erotic, sordid embrace. You are especially keen to hear what he has to say about this one too.

“Well… Like you said. Somebody to love - right? Don’t we all need those kinds of stories?”

Your eyes glow with admiration. Whilst he’s not cocky or overly assured, no, you are coming to admire Richard’s quiet confidence in who he is and what he cares about. His integrity and his lack of embarrassment in the things he chooses to value. His delight and lack of shame in the things that he enjoys. He’s not afraid to be who he is. You think that’s wonderful.

Next, your eyes flick back to the final book on the pile, partly for completeness but also out of curiosity. You feel with each title you pick-up, you are learning something about him; and, frankly, you want to know everything there is to find out. You look at it with a start however, when you realise what the final book in the pile is.

It’s your book. It’s the anthology of poetry you’d self-published around a year ago, and sold at your local readings. You reach for it instantly, almost cradling it in your hands like a precious object. Not because it’s yours - not exactly- but because it’s his. His copy looks eminently different to the spares you still have boxed-up in your house, all fresh and crisp, spines unbroken. This one looks a little worn around the edges - well-thumbed, spine broken-in. Some of the pages are dog-eared, and various makeshift bookmarks are sticking out of it. You’ve never seen one of your publications looking so… beautiful. So treasured.

“You actually read this?” you ask, a little overwhelmed, your heart hammering, and tears spiking in your eyes.

“I read it often. I told you, I really like it!”

You stroke the cover with your palm. “Honestly? I thought you were just being polite.”

When you’d mentioned to him for the first time that you wrote poetry -specifically erotic poetry- and had invited him to the reading, Richard had looked, at first, as though he was ready to die of embarrassment. Regardless, he’d still come along - your only neighbour to have done so. You vaguely remember having spoken to him the day afterward about it, but when you think of the show itself, you can’t picture him there. Now, you desperately wrack your memory of the event, searching for him. Wishing you could recall him showing-up for you in such an important way. 

It had been such a blur, though. You’d had a lot of friends there. You’d had a date there, who, at the time, you’d thought was the be all and end all. Now, however, you curse yourself for overlooking Richard. You wish you could go back and root through the crowd for him. You wish you could bring him into the spotlight. Bring him into your arms. And yet, while you ponder all of this, Richard reaches for the book and gently lifts it from your hands, with a gentle hum. It practically falls open on one particular page.

“This one is my favourite,” he admits bashfully. “Salted Peach. I must have it almost memorised by now.” You turn to him, studying his face. His expressive eyes are full of a heat gentler and more nuanced than your words could ever hope to be, you think, as he pores over the page. Over your words.

“No way. Prove it, Alonso Muñoz,” you challenge, exhaling a laugh that is surprised and disbelieving and utterly delighted all at once.

You don’t expect him to take you up on it, but the man sets his face, both more determined and more playful than you think you have seen him so far, as he hands the book back to you. “Okay,” he smiles, softly. “I’ll give it a go.”

You hold your breath as his eyes flutter closed -so that you know he has zero chance of cheating- his long lashes fanning-out beautifully over his cheek. You take the chance to look over his handsome features, while he can’t interrupt your surreptitious study.

Then, he begins. His voice is hushed and unsure, yet the richness of it washes over you, right from the first line.

“Like salt kept on the lips,

To resist is to rust,” he begins, and your breath catches in your chest.

“Let me be an oiled thing under you, all fluid and opening smoothly

With keen, slick hinges.”

First, you are struck that he really does know it. That he really does remember it, almost word perfect. You exhale a breath in disbelief, your chest filling with butterflies.

“A ruined peach

Spilling nectar over your thumb,” he continues, and desire knots deep in your belly.

It’s not that the words are explicit – they aren’t. But something about the way he recites them -recounts your desire- makes them feel positively sinful, his voice quietly confident and subtly erotic as he recites your words. You don’t only hear the words, but you feel them, almost as if his thumb really has punctured you.

You are becoming slick already, feeling like a ruined, grateful fruit. You want to be his fruit, you think. His salted peach.

“You can be my stiffness

My joints

My... (my stone heart? Is that right?)” he interjects.

“It’s perfect,” you encourage, your voice trembling slightly, even as his grows ever more robust, and, as you bolster him, he sits a little taller in his seat, his posture proud and the new confidence reflected in his voice as he proceeds. As he grows, stiffer, taller, you become liquid, and you writhe your heat subtly against your seat. You press your thighs closer together.

Enraptured, you watch his lips and tongue move seamlessly around the words. The micro-expressions on his face, revealing how tenderly he wishes to portray them, every word imbued with care. With expression, and feeling.  

“(Got it...) My stone heart

And I, boneless;

Bodiless flesh.”

As he continues, you close your eyes too. You stop checking the words against the book and you let yourself feel them. You let them wash over you. You let his voice wash over you; to sink and curl into the pit of you. You squirm in place, and yet this shifting makes you all too aware of your stillness – this fixed position and distance from him, when surely you should be moving and surging and undulating on him? Surely you should be leaning in and hearing the deep yet gentle timbre of his words waft into the shell of your ear, or fanning over your skin?

Surely, he should be touching you?

Your heart is racing.

“Salt me, then.

Lick your lips and taste me; sweetly.”

You want to taste him. Be tasted.

“Only on your tongue, do I exist.

Only in your hand, do I perish.”

You want to exist and perish on his hand.  

“Do not keep me on your lips.

Oil me with your writhing”

You want to be swallowed by him. Oiled by him. Made slick.

“Or else I rust.”

You are rapt. His words -no, your words, spoken by him- melting you.

His voice. So rich, and so sensual, and you could swear, as you listen to him, that your words have never sounded so erotic. That you have never felt them as deeply as you do now, hearing them fall from his tongue and his lips. Hearing them flow from his heart, as he recites them in a way you’ve never heard them; an interpretation entirely unique to him.

In fact, listening to him, like this, lights a flame in the pit of you, a heat suffusing through you, warming everywhere. He warms you, even from this distance, and you can feel how much heat he has to give. And, on boy. You want to lap it up. Every. Last. Drop.

“I... I forgot the next part,” he adds, shyly, his confidence wavering, and you open your eyes, beginning to recite the rest for him.

“Oh, love,

I long to be a fluid thing;

Under you.”

It sounds… true. It feels right. It feels so right to say those words to him. So right that it knocks the air from out of you.

At the sound of your voice, you watch a soft, unfiltered smile appear on Richard’s face, his still-closed eyes creasing deliciously at the corners, his moustache animating with it.

“And yet you resist me; rust me,” you continue, voice full of fissures, and Richard’s eyes slowly peel open, pooling with heat. This time, unlike the other times his eyes have met yours, he holds your gaze - doesn’t drop his eyes from yours in a flurry of bashfulness and fluttered lashes. He holds your gaze and he holds you, in this moment. In this little circle of intimacy, his eyes glowing, all for you. Pooling with that heat, so nuanced and gentle, but every bit as hot as anything you’ve ever touched.

Your voice and your smile and your heart crack wide open as you continue.

“You are salt kept on my lips;”

You complete the last lines at the same time, eyes locked. 

“Always tempting.

I seize up.”

Of all the swimming emotions rising at that moment, gratitude balls in your heart most intensely, and yet again, it is all you can do to thrust it towards him, your humble offering.

“Thank you,” you say, for the nth time that evening, a smile of the purest joy still splitting your face. “That was really beautiful.”  

It’s hard to comprehend how moved you are by what just happened. You are shocked. Flattered. That someone appreciates your words, that they resonate at all, makes you feel so seen. That the person is Richard is more of a treasure than you can fathom, and it causes a flood of raw, reckless emotion, joyful tears brimming in your eyes.

In return, Richard’s eyes shine as he regards you, with an admiration so deep and yet prominent that you almost shrink back from it. “They’re your words,” he impresses, aiming, as ever, to shrink himself instead.

You shake your head. You won’t have that. “No, Richard - it’s the way you recited them. I swear you should do my next reading for me. You’re so…” You search desperately for the right words, and you can’t find ones any more fitting. “…So fucking beautiful.”

And you call yourself a poet?

Your eyes well up.

You feel entirely caught off guard and just a little silly that you are getting yourself upset in front of him, and yet Richard’s eyes narrow kindly as you try to scrub a stray tear away from your cheek. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soothing, and in the next breath he reaches out to touch you, his hand settling over the top of yours. The gesture is a little awkward, unsure, but only until his hand is in place. After that it simply feels... right. Perfect, in fact.

He strokes you, his thumb ghosting slowly, minutely over your pulse point, sending a delicious shiver along your spine. His eyes search yours, and you become thoroughly lost in the intensity of them. Lost in a way that you don’t ever wish to find yourself again. Lost in a way that turns everything on its head - has you finally feeling found.

“I loved hearing you read. It was so wonderful. You should definitely do another event,” Richard gushes. “I’m sure I could listen to you read from this all night.” With that, and the scenario it conjures, perhaps, he looks down at his hand on yours. Maybe growing self-conscious, or worried that he is overstepping; that he has lingered there too long. Suddenly, though, you don’t think any length of time could be too long for him to be touching you.

When your gaze drops to his lips, however, his moustache bristles, and he quickly snatches his hand back to his lap. “Have you written anything lately?” he asks hurriedly, scooping up the book again, his topic change giving off the same energy as yours did previously.

You wonder if he is imagining your fingers trailing over his bare flesh now too. You hope so. Oh how you hope.

At his question, though, you exhale a small laugh, pumping your eyebrows once as your face splits in a smile. You shake your head gently. “I haven’t been... it’s a while since I was, let’s say, properly inspired by an encounter,” you explain, looking down at your hands in your lap, missing his contact already. “I’m just... Hmmph. I don’t know. It’s just... missing something. Guess they don’t make Adonises like they used to,” you add flippantly, poking light fun, partly at yourself.

Contrary to your flippancy, Richard becomes more serious. A gulp trails down his throat, and he seems suddenly frozen in place; seized up. As if he needs you to oil him so that he doesn’t rust. “W-What are you missing?” he asks, his voice lower than you’ve heard it, slightly more grit to it. His chest visibly rising, breaths slightly quickened; just like yours.

You look into his deep, cola-coloured eyes.

You?

What are you missing? You’re not sure, but somehow you feel that whatever it is, Richard could give it to you in moments.

Still, you don’t answer. You can’t. Instead, you ask him a question in return. You ask him a question feeling that, somehow, in a roundabout way, both of your questions may arrive at precisely the same answer.

“Why that poem?” you question, softly, lifting your eyes to him. “Why is that one your favourite?”

“I... I think...” he swallows again, then he whets his plush lips with a flick of his pink tongue. “It’s about longing, isn’t it? About being... lonely? About... wanting... someone in particular.” He fixes his expressive eyes on a point on the table, unable to look at you, it seems, in that moment. Still, his words are telling enough alone, you think, even without you seeing that same sentiment mirrored in his eyes too.

Now, you have another question. “Do you ever... get lonely? Are you? Lonely?”

It’s not even an assumption about him, you vaguely realise. It’s a projection. A projection of how you feel, and how you never realised you felt. It’s a desperate plea for affinity. For that longing to be understood, finally.

You are the one who is rusted. Seized up.

However, as soon as the question is out of your mouth you wish you could retract it. Loneliness is a solitary thing, after all, and you have no business, you suppose, wading into anyone else’s.

“I’m so sorry, please don’t answer that,” you mutter quickly, your fingers darting out to ghost along his forearm in apology, your naturally tactile nature coming through.

He drops his gaze towards your fingers there, watching them skimming his warm skin and the soft, dark hairs on his arms. He doesn’t inch away. Instead, he lifts his eyes to you, and you know the answer before he says it aloud. You know the answer as his emotions are written clearly in his eyes. Worn on his sleeve, like his badge.

The weight of his loneliness crushes you as if it was your own.

“Me too,” you admit, nodding softly, and his mouth curls briefly into a small, sad smile as your fingers continue their slow inch across his skin.

He sits in that sadness for a moment, and then, tentatively, as a thought flashes across his eyes, he brightens, just a little – looking mildly more hopeful. “Well,” he suggests, bravely. “Maybe we can… keep each other company?”

That really does sound nice.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Richard reaches out to fumble away the single tear ever so suddenly coursing down your face, swiping a line on your cheek with the pad of his thumb, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything so tender as his touch in that moment. It is yet another little thing; like the graze of a match head along its box. A little act, charged, with all this dangerous potential for a much larger, blazing thing to ignite.

You nod, the corners of your mouth trembling. “I would like that.” You would like that a lot.

Richard searches your eyes, and, ever so slowly - always slowly- as if you don’t wish to scare him away, you dare to hook your arm into his at the elbow, and you lower your head until it is resting on top of his shoulder.

“Is – Is this okay, Richard?” you ask in a small voice, pleading inwardly with the universe that he will say yes. That it is.

“This is... perfect,” he responds, even as he remains stiff against you, and, given his affirmation, you curl and scooch your body, shuffling a little closer to him. Bolstered too, with seeming new-found confidence, Richard raises him arm over you, and he nestles you safely against him where you can better feel his warmth. Where, with your knees drawing up on to his lap and your ear coming to rest on his chest, you can feel and hear the quickened thud of his racing heart as he holds you. His beautiful, kind, open heart.

Your mouth extends in a watery smile as you are held by him. He’s right. It’s a little thing, but it is perfect, isn’t it?

Still, again, although you should feel light, you feel heavy. With emotion. With longing. And so, you reach for another topic change. You reach for lightness. “Has anyone ever told you that you have an incredibly impressive moustache?” you enquire into his shirt, another solitary tear slipping over the bridge of your nose and wetting the flourish of red stitching.

Giving yourself whiplash now, you smile, as Richard’s chest shakes beneath you with gentle, easy laughter.

“Well, not everybody is a fan.”

“Who would actually dare?” you exclaim, as if thoroughly scandalised. “Fuck them, Richard. I like it. I like it a lot.”

His fingers trace shapes on your back. “Thank you.”

You are pleased to feel him gradually relax against you, his form melding with yours, his body becoming less stiff. Less rusted; more of a fluid thing.

“Do you… do you have a little moustache comb?”

Another chuckle. “I do,” he confirms, and you don’t know why on earth that detail settles it, but you think that he must certainly be the most perfect man on earth.

You go silent for a moment, but Richard prompts you gently - “No more questions for me?”- as if he was enjoying your mood-lightening segue. You are more than happy to oblige the sweet man by continuing, and you chew on your lip as you come up with something.

“Are you on Tinder?” A cheeky smile claims your mouth again - you’d kill to see his profile.

You’d think about the fact he’d probably never send unsolicited dick pics, but… then you’d be thinking about dick pics, and that’s one dangerous road towards Feral Town.

While you ponder this, Richard laughs again, but it’s a little self-deprecating this time. “No... I... I was for a while, but I...”

“What?”

He inhales and sighs his whole breath out again - a sad sound. His tone when he speaks is equally morose. “I’m… not sure people are looking for someone like me.”

At that, you abruptly sit up, narrowing your eyes and fixing a determined, earnest stare on him. You reach up, gingerly, moved to cup his cheek with your palm, his groomed sideburn and the plume of his moustache pleasantly rough under your fingers. You make sure he is looking you in the eyes. “Richard,” you contest, with every scrap of sincerity you can muster; and then some. “I think everybody must be looking for somebody like you.” 

His eyes are pierced by a peculiar emotion you haven’t seen there yet. At first it looks like pain, but then it levels off until his eyes are shining, with something resembling pride or gratitude. When a smile finally twitches his moustache, your gaze drops to his lips again, and you are no longer surprised by how easy it is to think about kissing him, desire unfurling in your belly at an alarming rate. A palpable, mutual longing eddies in the space between you.

You surprise yourself though, by dipping to press a sweet, chaste kiss into his cheek, rather than sinking towards his lips as you so wish to do. When you perform this gesture, his eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a soft, involuntary hum, the sound gathering in your very bones and setting up camp there. As you dip back from him, the edge of his moustache grazes your cheek, and you have to admit it’s sort of electrifying. You imagine how it would tickle if you were kissed by him. How it would tickle wherever you were kissed.

The lines of poetry, so to speak, are writing themselves in your mind, already. You haven’t felt this inspired in a long time, and yet, on this occasion, you want to wait. You don’t want to rush it - even though you’ve never felt the need to quell your desires on many occasions before. Life is short, after all – too short to waste. However, something tells you that Richard is the type of man you should savour. Something tells you, that you may have found somebody to love, and, you may not love often; but when you do, you love slow.

So, you pull away from Richard, and you note that his eyes have fluttered closed. When he opens them again, you know that this kiss on the cheek was the right thing to do. You see subtle tears shining in his eyes. Again, he looks pained -with first appearances- but these tears, on second examination you think, are joyful. His heart joyful yet heavy, exactly like yours. After all, when you are overwhelmed with joy all at once, with a flood of little, happy things, it can weigh you down, at first, if the measure of joy is not one which you are quite accustomed to. If you are not practised at carrying it.

At that point, contemplating joy, you are ripped cruelly from the moment, as, with the worst and best possible timing, your phone buzzes to life, vibrating against your hip until you reach to fish out the insistent device.

“The locksmith is here, Richard. I have to go.”

��Y- yeah. Okay,” he nods, despite the fact everything about him is conveying the opposite sentiment.

I don’t want to go.

“Thank you so much.” 

He nods again, and, wanting to leave him with a parting thought (or, not wanting to leave him at all, but needs must), you have the bright idea to pick up your book from the table, thumbing through it quickly to find the page you want. A poem called The Flood.

“Recommended bedtime reading,” you wink, thrusting the book towards his chest and standing, grabbing your purse and making your way towards the door. “I can give you back your shirt tomorrow, right?” you say cheekily. “Maybe after dinner?” 

Richard stands too, following you towards the door like he’s magnetised to you, Lady trotting along too, inquisitively, her little black nose snuffling at the air.

“A-after dinner?” he enquires, confused, as you sweep out in a little bit of a whirlwind.

“Yeah, Richard,” you smile coyly from beneath your lashes, injecting some flirtation into your tone. “I owe you dinner. To make it up to you.”

“You don’t need to make it up to...”

You arch an eyebrow at him, looking at him pointedly and smoothing your hand over his upper arm until he gets the gist. When your meaning dawns on him, he gets that adorable, excited little spring in his step. You revel in his bright toothy smile, striking and pearly from beneath the thick brush of his moustache. “I know a nice little pasta place. And there’s a great documentary playing at the Coolidge if you want to catch it?”

“Sure,” you agree, dipping forward to plant another lingering kiss on his cheek in the doorway, relishing the feel of that moustache all over again. “It’s a date.” 

Evidently flustered, and in no bad way, Richard fumbles for words and finds none, omitting a mere collection of stunted syllables and unfinished sounds in response.

You wink at him, and before swooping off, you add one final thing. “Feel free to consider the bedtime reading a preview, okay? If you’d like.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up in disbelief. You get the feeling he already knows exactly what that particular poem is about. “Yes, ma’am.” he nods, looking sweetly and longingly and adoringly after you as you sashay away.

“Goodnight, neighbour to the right.”

“Goodnight, neighbour to the left.”

You allow yourself one last long look at him before you retreat, an unstoppable smile splitting your face, and, seeing him stood in the doorway, smiling after you, only cements everything you have come to learn this evening.

From now on, neither of you will be lonely anymore. There will be no more longing. Instead, there will be a flood, you think.

THE END

PART TWO IS HERE

[honey-milk-depresso]

Stuck with Heartslabyul

I also procrastinated on this for so frickin’ long. I made two other series of being home dorm quarantined with other TWST characters like Octavinelle and Savanaclaw which you can go read if you want! I hope you enjoy this one! ^^

Riddle Rosehearts

He still somehow carry out his dorm leader duties-

Let us shed a tear for this young boy-

also there is from head to toe neatly

V e r y  neatly 

placed in order

organized files, books, documents-

What tf is this an office or a dorm room?????

well whatever-

He thinks that this is the perfect opportunity to bake things.

With you!

Well, truthfully he can’t really bake as well as Trey but he tries,

and if you are by his side baking,

he feels a little bit more confident, and a lot more happier!

Unbirthday parties can’t be carried out since

ya know,

no social contact :’)))

so, he’ll just have daily unbirthday parties with you!

And lemme just tell you,

after so many hours of baking,

he’s getting the hang of it-

And you realized he’s actually really good in setting a tea party atmosphere.

Like he knows how to arrange the teacups,

he prepared frickin’ napkins my lord this Ciel Phantomhive kid is extra-

But not going to lie, 

It’s really pretty the set up.

AND HE GOT THEM ROSE PETALS ON THE TABLE-

EVERYTHING IS ARRANGED SUPER PRETTY-

Buuuut, his baking still needs some work going-

D A N G THO-

“RIDDLE, THAT’S A LOT OF SUGAR-”

“Oh? R-really? Didn’t it say 5 tablespoons?”

“You poured 5 whole cups-”

“Ah-”

Trey Clover

Listen,

being stuck with Trey is the best option-

He bakes

A SHIT TON OF PASTRIES-

And I’m not saying he baked a lot of pastries equivalent to how much he bakes for unbirthday parties-

Oh no non no-

It’s frickin’ thrice the amount-

THE ENTIRE ROOM SMELLS LIKE EVERY SWEET PASTRIES OUT THERE-

He experimented a lot-

From baking macrons, chiffon cakes, frickin’ candy art-

You are blessed when you’re stuck with him, s/o-

seriously-

“Holy shit Trey, what is that??”

“Oh, I’m just carving the chocolate.”

“Honey, that looks like you just created Van Gogh shit, that looks fancy and really hard to do-”

“Sugar, I’ll make your food look and taste like ‘Van Gogh shit’ for you anytime.”

“OH MY SHIT YOUR SO SWEET, I CAN’T-”

Cough cheesy Trey cOuGH

And he’s like a housewife not gonna lie-

he wakes up earlier during quarantine surprisingly, 

maybe cuz he always finish schoolwork MUCH earlier now-

and he doesn’t have much to carry out as Vice dorm-

so he wakes up early,

and cooks frickin pancakes whatever delicious shit that comes to mind for you to eat for breakfast

cbdhidcchnff hnf

W H A T-

Also brush your teeth after you finish eating-

Cater Diamond

Man-

Cup noodle game is strong-

Unhealthy, yes-

but you do all sorts of things with it,

to which he’ll always post on Magicam.

Like you guys make curry instant noodles,

salad with the dry instant noodle bits for salad toppings--

list goes on my dude-

bruh-

and not only that, 

he posts all those like daily life at home (or in this case his dorm room-)

and he’s gonna be posting about E V E R Y T H I N G

From what you both had for breakfast, what you guys did at 3 pm,

Every. Second. Of. Being. Stuck. With. You.

B R U H

“CATER, I LIKE SOME PRIVACY-”

“I know, that’s why I’ll post it in my private account which is my diary btw~”

“First off, your private account has like at least 1000 people in it, secondly, buy yourself an actual book diary, and thirdly, I’m liTERALLY IN THE TOILET WITH UGLY ASS BAGGY PANTS TRYING TO FIX THE LIGHTS-”

“BUT BABE-”

Because of this incident, you bought him a plain writing book online.

You know he wouldn’t like writing with a lot of words,

soooo

Scrapbooking! *Cue the glitter filter*

he has so much fun!

Decorating, pasting all the photos he took with you and printed them out.

He loves it so much! Being stuck with Cater is productive and maybe a little tiring, but hey! Works for the both of you!

Deuce Spade

This boy-

Oh my god-

He’s absolutely so sweet and adorable-

I can’t-

He’s not the best, he knows,

sometimes he wonders why you would ever want to be stuck with him-

but this man puts in more effort than he can to make sure you are comfortable during the pandemic time-

like his cooking went from a C to S class dear-

Although they are egg based dishes, there is

A  w i d e variety in each dish-

And it really tastes good-

But you can tell he’s really tired trying to perfect his dish,

he wished he was Trey my lord-

DONT EVER THINK THAT BBY

YOU ARE PERFECT JUST THE WAY YOU ARE VSJVSWEADFGFHFTYKV-

Cuddle him please,

every day at every hour at every second just pleaseeeee

he needs it-

and he wants it-

but is just shy about it-

GIVE HIM THE CUDDLES-

ahem sorry-

continuing,

he surprisingly took up knitting and wanted you to join in after browsing online for more recipes to which randomly stumbled upon knitting basics videos

So arts and crafts time!!! ahh children-

He knits a very simple cloth at first-

which escalated to become scarves, blankets , mittens, sweaters like-

w o a h

Grandma Deuce-

and he also found these charity organizations who sold homemade products online to collect money to raise funds to give to people in need.

Let us put it as it’s not a scam website.

Soooo he published some of his hand made scarves, blankets and sweaters online-

And I swear this man is so sweet I can’t-

“Well, we have to do something to help these people! And they’re giving us a chance to give them our support!”

YES DEAR U ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT

YOU ARE GONNA BE MODEL STUDENT EACH YEAR-

He also used the first handmade blanket he knitted with you as your official sleeping blanket.

With shit tons of cuddles.

Being stuck with Deuce is honestly just so sweet and wholesome.

Ace Trappola

This idiot-

This absolute h e a t h e n-

I just wish you good luck man-

He just absolutely LOVES to prank you.

“ACE WHAT THE FUC-”

“What the fck what?”

“YOU PUT THIS WATER BALLOON ABOVE MY DOOR DIDN’T YOU?!”

“Huh? What makes you think that?”

“WE’RE LITERALLY THE ONLY ONES IN THIS ROOM WHAT YOU MEAN HOW WOULD I FCKING KNOW-”

You just gotta survive by pranking him too.

Also this man-

LOVES

G A M E S

And not just video games,

Oh non no no-

Hide and seek, chase-

ya name it.

At every hour-

You also play virtual UNO with the whole Heartslaybyul gang sometimes-

“WTF GIVE ME A GREEN-”

“AHAHAHAHHAHA-”

“Riddle, lower your microphone level-”

“TREY SHUSH, I’M NOT LETTING THAT ACE BASTARD WIN, SO I WNT THIS STUPID CARD DECK TO GIVE ME GREEN-”

*Pulls a green card*

“FINALLY!”

*You put in the green reverse card*

*Switch back to poor Riddle lmao*

“NOOOOOOOOO, WTF GIVE ME A GREENNNNN-”

“AHAHAHA NICE ONE S/O-”

Cuddles

every night-

moving on,

He’s also the type who will make memes of the two of you when being stuck together lmao-

As for food-

either take out or you cook-

He cannot be trusted with the kitchen-

he can’t take one step in it no joke-

All in all, being stuck with Ace is really just crack level head energy soraing through the sky with his love dovey antics.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Cupid

Note: This is for @afriendlyblackhottie​​ Brat and Birthday challenge. Happy Bday Month 🎉🎈🎊🎂🍰! I chose Cupid by 112. Chris art work by @nix-akimbo​ she is amazing here is the original.

Summery: Ransom likes a bridesmaid.

Warning: Daddy Kink, gag, oral (reader receives), sex

Groomsman Band member Ransom x Black Reader, Knives out Alternative Universe

Leaning in the archway of the reception hall you sighed watching the newlyweds dance their first dance. You didn't want to be here. Not after all the shit he put Courtney, the bride, through.

But your bestie was the kind of girl that could not function without a man in her life. He had cheated on her five times, that you knew of. You were sure there was more, but she as well as you were tired of the berating.

It was always the same. He cheated, she cried, you picked up the pieces and then when he was ready she would go back. Pathetic.

"Aw don't pout princess your day will come" your eyes rolled at the sound of his voice. You had the misfortune to be linked with Ransom, the cousin of the groom. All the other bridesmaids drooled over him, but you weren't impressed. This rich boy was looking to add to his body count so you only interacted with him only when you needed to.

Their family had paid for this whole affair. You nearly punched one of the grooms relatives when she made a remark on Courtney's color choices. They were all on your shit list.

Just ignore him. Its almost over and you will never have to see him again.

As the song ended everyone applauded while you made your way over to the open bar. Your wrist was snagged as you crossed his path. Snatching it back you looked at him as if he grew another head.

"Look you don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Let's be miserable together." He held up his hands in surrender. You were stuck on this island and you were smart enough not to fall for dumb shit so you gave yourself permission to relax.

You both took over an empty table in the back of the massive hall. Ransom disappeared for a bit, then returned with two bottles of champagne and two glasses. The bar was an open bar, but you were sure they weren't handing out bottles left and right.

"OK let's play a game to pass the time." Ransom proposed as he approached.

"Game? What kind of game?" You waited curiously. Sitting the glasses and bottles down Ransom proceeded to pop the cork on one of the bottles of Champaign.

"We both take turns pointing out people we think the other would fuck."your mouth fell open with his boldness as he spoke. "If you guess wrong you have to take a sip. Yatta yatta you get it."

"Are you just trying to get me drunk?" You squint at him playfully suspicious.

"Nah, just bored. So come on let's play."

You watched as he poured the glasses to the brim, when he handed you the bubbling glass you thanked him. Ransom moved his chair next to you, sitting shoulder to shoulder so you both were sure to have the same view of the people on the floor.

"Ladies first" he held his glass high. You clinked your glass with his signaling ‘good game’.

"What about her?" You pointed to Courtney's great aunt. The lovely woman was at least eighty-seven, you knew this would be a 'no', but why not start off with a softball.

He gave you a look that made you snort.

"Wow was that a laugh? I seriously didn't think the ice queen was capable. You didn't even smile for the wedding photos. Achievement unlocked." Ransom was full of himself.

"No one is gonna believe I got the frost queen to crack a smile." Ransom boasted.

You took a sip from your glass so you didn't have to reply. There was nothing to smile about. You didn't approve of this wedding so you weren't going to act like you were. Courtney was lucky you even agreed to be a bridesmaid.

"OK my turn." He observed the crowded floor, before finding his mark. "Glasses two o'clock."

You searched out 'Glasses' and scoped him out. Tall, put together nicely. "Yep."

"Really?" He gave you a look, that made it hard to fight back the curl of your lip.

"Yep..I have particular taste." You say casually with a shrug.

"Well all right to each his own I guess."

"My turn" you stopped for a beat then found her. " Oh what about her?" you pointed to a tall slender blonde.

"Ugh no...That's my aunt."

"Oooops....My bad... let me see who else, umm" you looked around the room, but he only looked at you.

"Oh! Oh! Her" you pointed to Stephani, a younger cousin of Courtney's. Thick thighed, uber fit college student.

"You can't go twice. Take your sip."

"What that was your aunt that cant count" you argued back.

"A no is a no" he tutted.

"Fine" you gulped from your glass and waited your turn.

"OK my turn. Hmm...What about him" he pointed to an older man that was chatting up a bridesmaid that was way to young for him.

"Eww nah not my type, but he might have gotten a yes back in the day." You tilted your head with a smirk.

"Oh thank gawd. That's my dad."

"What the fuck? Dude gross" you slapped at his shoulder and laughed. Ransom rubbed it fanning pain.

"Hey you picked my aunt" he chuckled with you.

"Yeah but I didn't know she was your aunt!"

After finishing the first bottle you started to feel loose. Ransom's arm stretched out along the back of your chair, slyly rubbing circles on your bare arm, while you leaned snuggled into his side as you both continue to people watch.

"So what do you do?" You asked him.

Ransom was silent for a moment. Taking a long swig from the glass before looking over at you and sighing.

"I'm in a band."

"Oh really, is that your little hobby you do before you take over the board seat at your grand-papa's company?" you bit back a laugh. Ransom frowned at you, but you didn't care.

You knew of the older Thrombey, the famous author and owner of a publishing house. Through rehearsal you watched the interactions between the two and you knew that Ransom was the favorite of the acclaimed writer's brood.

"I don't want anything to do with that company believe it or not. I love music always have."

"Must be nice to play in a band bankrolled by a publishing house. What are y'all called 'Blood and Rock'" you laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

"Ha wrong again. We're called 'Coffee and Roses'. And I've been cut of financially ever since I got these bad boys" Ransom shimmed out of his blazer and rolled up his sleeves. His well toned arms were completely covered in ink. When he pulled down his collar you were able to see the massive art work that encompassed his neck, you bit into your bottom lip as he allowed you to ogle him. "This art work was not board approved " he joked. The booze mixed with Ransom's rocker bod was starting to lower your inhibitions and you needed to put a stop to it.

"Your cousin is a piece of shit." You changed the subject before taking a pull from your glass.

"Yeah well he gets that from his dad, he's always been an asshole."

"Apples don't fall far do they?" You snipped. When Ransom didn't respond you looked over, he was looking at his father who had now moved on to another pretty young thing.

"He made a mistake and he is fixing it." Ransom replied, suddenly in defense of his cousin.

The mistake in question was a child, by another woman. That baby you thought would be the final straw to break the camels back.

"Diamonds don't fix problems." You didn't come from money, but you knew that this wedding was a band-aid. And once it got wet you wondered what would be the gift for the next 'mistake'.

The groom had always bought his way out of his binds. The more he fucked up the more money he poured on it. This wedding you couldn't even fathom the cost. The wedding ring alone looked like it could choke a horse. And this destination wedding on his dime made you think on what happened in the interim leading up to this event.

"You're a really good friend. She's lucky that she has someone that cares so much." You both stared into the distance at the couple. They danced and smiled at each other so happy, but you felt sick. Ransom's sweet words made you immediately suspicious of his intent, his cousin had a habit of talking sweet, but he was a fucking snake. You weren't going to end up like Courtney.

"Look don't think that just because we got all chummy that all of a sudden I am gonna want to bang one out." You hit your glass on the table harder than you meant to, it tipped over and spilled out the rest of your drink.

When a little bit of the liquid trickled off the table and hit your dress you pushed away from the table. Just a tiny bit, nothing major to fuss about, but you had hit your limit. You'd done the wedding, you took the pictures and you stuck around for the reception. It was time to go.

You weren't about to be some random rich kids one night stand. So you stormed off. Thankfully the ball room was not far from the adjoining hotel. Marching you fumed and you cursed your friend for being this dumb, yourself for not doing more to stop this and almost falling for Ransom's charm. Mashing the buttons you thought of changing your number, wiping your hands from this friendship and looking into an overnight flight back home.

How much worse would it be now that she was legally married to that douche bag. The thought of them having kids only served to further irked you.

Before the elevator door could close a hand sliced down the middle, halting the closure.

You stood stunned as Ransom appeared out of breath and in-between the open doors.

**"Baby, I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into deception and lies"**

Ransom consumed the space between you two. Your ass hit the hand rail as the doors closed.

"I am not my father, I am not my cousin. I liked you." His confession made your heart flutter.

Don't be stupid. He is the same as the rest of his family. Don't fall for his game.

His hands rested on the bar on either side of your hips as he stood toe to toe with you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed turning away from him, unable to keep staring into those eyes.

**Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind I'm only saying what's in my heart**

With one finger he brought your focus back to him. You frowned at him, you weren't weak. You weren't falling for him no matter how much your body wanted to throw in the towel.

**Cupid doesn't lie** He leaned in close and you held your breath as your heart raced.

**But you won't know unless you give it a try** Ransom whispered over your lips before kissing you gently. You broke down allowing him to invade your mouth. His lips felt soft and his firm arms a welcome feeling as they wrapped around you.

The elevator dinged loudly and you pulled back. Your lipstick smeared on his mouth made for a funny sight. Looking at the number it was your floor then back at him.

**Give it a try** Ransom pleaded.

A switch flipped inside you. Angry at yourself you pushed past him and marched to your hotel room.

He is just a spoiled rich kid trying to have fun. Don't fall for it. You try and convince yourself.

He shouted as the doors closed and you tried to ignore him.

**Cupid doesn't lie**

He shouted again. You halted, but refused to look.

"All men lie" You stopped as you replied back at him. There wasn't a woman in your life that wasn't hurt and you didn't want to join that club. You wanted to protect yourself at all cost. You heard the elevator doors close so you let out a sigh of relief.

What if you were wrong. What if he was right? A nagging thought bubbled in your mind. He was fun, you felt at easy around him. Some part of you yearned for him to come back.

You were so lost in your own head that you hadn't heard him rush up behind you. Ransom quickly spun you around, his eyes boring into your soul. The sight of which made it hard to stay angry.

**"Oh baby, true love won't lie...But we won't know unless we give it a try"**

He kissed you again. This time more hungry than before, so much so it took your breath away as he pulled back.

**"Give it a try"** he pleaded yet again.

It was hard to get the door open with Ransom latched onto your face. Fumbling with the key you tried blindly several times to get the card in the slot with your back pressed hard against the door.

Frustrated Ransom snatched the card and opened the door for you.

"Thanks Daddy" you teased, looking up through your lashes at him.

"Daddy huh?" The grin that grew on his face was devilish indeed. "So that's it...You act all bratty to get Daddy to react. Huh?"

Scooping you off your feet he carried you across the threshold. You were so surprised that he was able to handle your weight with ease, as he walked you over to the bed, before tossing you.

"Keep the dress on and pull your tits out" he command as he furiously unbuttoned his shirt.

You marveled at the fit rocker. He revealed more tats as he opened his shirt. Pushing down your off the shoulder strap you yanked your top down. Your half bra going down with it, allowing your breast to bounce free.

"Stand up."

Without a word you rose to your feet.

"Turn around."

Again you followed his orders. The way he commanded you made your need soak through your panties.

"Gonna come deep in that pretty pussy, show you who you belong to" Ransom taunted into the shell of your ear. "Say ahh."

The neck tie that had long since come undone was now being wrapped around your open mouth, wrapping it  quickly then knotting the fabric.  

Once secure Ransom proceeded to massage your breast from behind. As he tweaked your nipples you felt his cock, hard and stiff pressed into your ass.

You pushed and rubbed against it toying with him, the hum that buzzed from his lips almost sounded primal. "Nothing but a big tease huh? Daddy's going to show you what he thinks about teases."

Pushing you over on the bed you yelped through your gag. Looking over your shoulder you watched as Ransom bunched up the fabric of your dress, tossing it over your hips to expose your ass.

Feeling cocky you twerked your ass before him, the look in his eye showed that he approved of the sight. Ransom palmed your cheeks with both his hands, kneading the soft tissue as he rubbed his erection on you.

One hand moved around your hips and on the outer-lining of your panties.

"Fuck baby girl is that all for me?" Ransom's finger pulled at the elastic that touched your bud. He felt the drenched panties and pulled them back until they snapped back in place.

"Fuck baby girl" he purred.

Ransom lowered himself onto his hunches, pulling your panties down with them. You felt his tongue lapping gently at your folds. The sensation sending shivers throughout your body.

His tongue separated your lips, you knees wanted to cave at the tantalizing feel of him. Through your gag you moaned, the slow torture of his feasting was bringing you close to the finish line.

Ransom sucked hard on your bare mound adding a finger as he rose to his feet. "You taste so sweet baby." He praised as he curled his fingers inside of you.

"Do you want to come on my cock or my fingers?" He asked as your cunt tensed around his digits. Ransom knew you were getting close and you hoped he would choose the former.

"I cant hear you" he added another digit as you begged through your gag. You wanted to feel him all of him, but there was no way to make your answer clear through the fabric.

"Well, if you are not going to answer I will pick for you."

Ransom knew what you wanted, even with your desperate mumbling. Kicking your legs father apart he then removed his fingers. You whimpered at the lack of touch, but you were also thrilled to finally get what you really wanted.

The sound of his zipper going down made you antsy. You danced on the heels of your feet with anticipation of his next move.

Ransom took his cock in one hand while he spread one of your cheeks with the other. He rubbed his cock against the deep pink within your folds.

Toying with you as you mumbled through the tie. His pre-cum mixed with your juices as he pressed his tip hard against your opening.

"Are you gonna be a good girl from me?" He teased. You furiously nodded 'yes'.

You felt the pressure of him entering you as drool seeped past your gag. "Do you belong to me?" He halted, the sudden stop drove you crazy. Again you nod and shouted 'yes' through your restraint.

"Good girl."

Ransom filled you to your core, only stopping when you sheathed him completely. You gripped the fabric of the hotel duvet, you hadn't expected him to be so big.

The slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room. His moans mixed with the sounds of your sloppy sex were enough to send you over the edge.

Ransom controlled the pace, his length undeterred by your lack of space to take him in. You cried through your gag as he sent jolts through your body. "You were made for me" he proclaimed as he snapped his hips into you.

Your mewls were muffled by the tie, but you were sure whoever was in the room next to you could still make out what was happening here.

"Fuck" he growled as he fucked you into the bed. "I'm gonna fill you up."

"Gonna make you nice and round" he slapped your ass as he thrusted. You felt your core tighten.

"Fuck Daddy I want to come on your cock!" You finally shouted as the gag finally slipped from your lips.

"Come in me Daddy!" You felt him twitch inside you at your desperate pleading.

"Oh baby girl your tempting me."

"Please!" You panted.

"Fuck" Ransom shouted as he shot his load inside you. You felt him coat you as you milked him dry.

Ransom fell on-top of you and your knees buckled, causing you both to fall forward onto the bed. Ransom moved off you, sweaty and exhausted. "Don't think that I'm done with you yet."

[hangovercurse]

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

[bucky-hues]

sambucky fic recs

hellooo!! i've been wanting to do a sambucky fic rec, so i thought i'd do one for @fuckyeahsambucky ‘s fic yeah friday! here are some sambucky fics i love <3 do read the warnings on each fic!

one-shots

when i'm in a room with you (that missing piece is found) | @omg-just-peachy

sam x bucky

Three times Bucky falls asleep on Sam, and one time Sam asks why.

double dare | @omg-just-peachy

sam x bucky

Bucky follows his therapist’s advice to cultivate friendship, Sam makes him work for it, and by the time he’s sure they’re friends, Bucky has an entirely new problem on his hands.

press conference | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

Sam watches from a distance a journalist from Denver, Summer, puts her hand on Bucky’s arm and laughs at something he says. Her hand trails further up and squeezes his bicep which Bucky doesn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, he laughs along with her and leans in closer to her to say something. Sam closes his eyes briefly and swallows back his anger.

accidentally | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

x | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

request: during the time when sam is tracking bucky in romania, after sam and bucky get caught up in a fight against some hydra agents who were also tracking bucky

sam gets hurt and bucky feels guilty so he carries him inside to patch him up, they talk some stuff out, its all very intimate and both start to fall for each other a little

acquiring alpine | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

prompt: alpine being cute

x | @sammy-souffle (18+)

sam x bartender!bucky (modern au)

regrets | @sammy-souffle

sam x bucky

x | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Bucky being completely oblivious that him and Sam have been dating for like 6 months and Bucky finally understands why Sam has been kissing him, sleeping in the bed with him, and being an all around sap with him.

reckless idiots tend to fall | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Bucky and Sam are arguing cause Sam did something reckless on a mission and Bucky freaks out but oblivious Sam genuinely has no idea why. And then Bucky accidentally yells ‘because I love you’

tell me a secret | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Every time Sam gets drunk he finds Bucky and asks him for a secret. Bucky always gives him one.

fucking ridiculous | @jeffersonshattricks

sam x bucky

Sam is pining and a bitter grumpy grump, Bucky is mostly oblivious but also pining. misunderstandings happen, feelings get hurt, people get hurt (like physically), and then confessions happen and all is well. yay! also the other avengers are just their nerdy selves for the most part!

come to the ocean, even when you're broken | @liminalmess

sam x bucky

“Bucky, hey, man, fancy meeting you here!” he said with an exaggerated enthusiasm that he probably knew would get under Bucky’s skin, clapping him on the shoulder as he sat down.

“I thought we were taking separate vacations,” Bucky grumbled back.

Or, in which Sam and Bucky go an accidentally not separate vacation to the Bahamas.

feelings | @yaksomins

sam x bucky (modern au)

sam crossed his arms and inspected the lobby. they were indeed the only people there, not including the few staff members seated at a table near a magenta-tinted arcade area with their noses buried in their phones.

"i think i can help with that," a voice said from behind sam.

sam turned and found himself face to face with the clerk they'd bought their tickets from earlier, the scruffy-looking man that seemed a little out of place amongst the younger staff. sam gave him a quick scan, his eyes catching the name plastered to his chest via a paper name tag, scribbled by hand using a marker.

"and what exactly can you do for us...bucky?" sam frowned. what kind of name was ‘bucky’?

"i can be your extra," he said, removing a hairband from his wrist and swiftly tying up his hair into a tidy bun. with more of him now visible, sam could get a better view of his face, all hard lines and soft eyes. "and it's a nickname," bucky added, smirking and moving past a puzzled sam towards the game room. "c'mon, let's suit up."

x | @yaksomins

sam x bucky

prompt: leaving each other notes

x | @yaksomins

sam x bucky

bucky takes sam for a ride on his motorcycle

i'll make this feel like home | @buckywilsonbarnes

sam x bucky

sambucky domestic fluff

x | @transjoaquintorres

sam x bucky

sam loves bucky's handwriting

just let me adore you | dharmainitiative (AO3)

sam x bucky

“Alright, what gives?” Sam demands. “Why do you turn down every single person I try to set you up with?”

He expects Bucky to avoid the question, come up with all sorts of excuses. What he doesn’t expect is for Bucky to start laughing.

“C’mon, Sam. Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“Sam,” Bucky finally says, slow and deliberate. “I’m not interested in anyone you’ve tried to set me up with because I’ve been gone on you for ages.”

watch your words | dancer_in_the_rain (AO3)

sam x bucky

sam insults bucky and then loses his shit when someone agrees with him

love, punch | @clintbartonswife

sam x bucky

Bucky can get protective, but Sam reminds him he doesn’t need to be defended - a confession is made

exchange rate | @joycesully

sam x bucky

Bucky's older memories are coming back, sometimes at the cost of more recent ones. What he cannot forget is tearing the wings off Sam Wilson. Too bad Bucky just let Steve talk him into staying with him and Sam. Consumed by guilt, the only thing Bucky knows to do by way of apology is to let Sam hurt him back. Fortunately, Sam has better ideas.

stubborn wounds | @constantwriter85

sam x bucky

When Bucky’s badly injured after trying to protect his partner, Sam realizes that he needs Bucky more than he’d care to admit.

nurturing | the_buzz (AO3)

sam x bucky (pre-slash)

Bucky isn't the only one who feels alone after coming back from the Blip.

keep the ashes from my heart (and walk away) | @coffeeinallcaps

sam x bucky

In which Sam starts dating someone who is not Bucky, and Bucky pines, gets seriously injured, and proves himself wrong.

you're blowin' my mind (with the things you say to me) | @jemgirl86

sam x bucky

After getting an earful from Bucky at the cookout, Sarah suggests Sam and Bucky have a chat... and they do.

(sometimes) all i think about is you | @softhauntedwinds

sam x bucky

Bucky discovers Sam Wilson's pre-blip media content and things escalate.

when the wheels come off (i'll be your spare) | @returnsandreturns

sam x bucky

“What, the government doesn’t pay you enough to buy some art?” Bucky asks, a minute after Sam lets him into his apartment, gesturing at the blank walls. “It still looks like you just moved in.”

“Uhm, I’ve been busy being a national treasure,” Sam says. “The government doesn’t pay you enough to buy a shirt that fits?”

Bucky glances down at his long sleeve t-shirt for a second before he looks back up with a grin.

“I’m just a part-timer,” he says, shrugging.

forever and a day | @returnsandreturns

sam x bucky

When he sets the needle, Ella Fitzgerald croons and he glances over to see Sam sitting up, looking interested as she sings it’s very clear. . .our love is here to stay.

Bucky can flirt and he can really tell that he’s still got it by the way Sam’s mouth drops open for a moment when he saunters up and offers a hand, smiling with all the potential of where this could lead and asking, “Care for a dance, doll?”

Sam stares up at him before he sighs and mutters, “Fuck, that’s really working for me somehow,” and lets Bucky pull him onto his feet and into his arm.

world's greatest uncle | @novembermurray

sam x bucky

Rhodes arrives in Delacroix to bring Sam up to speed on their newest mission and deliver the bad news: Bucky Barnes has gone AWOL. He's in for a few surprising discoveries.

panic | alienspronkles (AO3)

sam x bucky

When Sam and Bucky go to Sarah's place for a get together, Bucky's anxiety starts kicking in. And he's trying to hide it from everyone there.

series

sam and bucky first date 2: electric boogaloo | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam is gearing up to ask Bucky on their first date, but he is interrupted by a bullet wound to the shoulder.

sam and bucky go to a fourth of july party | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam and Bucky, recently engaged, make an appearance at the annual Delacroix Fourth of July Block Party, and Sam ends up partying a little too hard.

the gang navigates and airport | ObsessiveExplosion (AO3)

sam x bucky

Sam and Bucky have to navigate an unexpected layover on their way home from a mission, made more difficult by the fact that Bucky has just taken a sleeping pill designed for Super Soldiers.

he followed me home one day | AshaCrone (AO3)

sam x bucky (au)

He was supposed to be starting fresh.

Sam Wilson was moving from New York to Washington and picked the worst possible Friday to finish his move. But he does what he does best- stops to help.

And asks a passing stranger for a little muscle to get some trapped people out of a car. Feeds the stranger a protein bar.

Now a lost cyborg has followed him home. And he isn't quite sure what to do about it.

[flames-tstuff]

Okay so, um, I hope you don’t mind me requesting something! ^.^ 💕 You always support me and I wanna support you too!

So, Uraraka and Ojiro. Fluff & Tickles. The idea is that Uraraka is stressed out and one way she copes is by coloring, and Bakugou or whoever sees her and teases her, then Ojiro defends her and says like, it’s fine to be a kid sometimes, bc they’ve grown up pretty fast. And so like, the next day they go to a park and swing, he gets her ice cream, then they go back to the dorm and color while watching cartoons, and then a tickle scene happens on the cartoon, and then it leads to him tickling her and hugs and cuddles and friendship. Aaaaa 🙈

To Be a Kid Again (BNHA)

Ojiro wants to show Uraraka that it’s okay to be a kid again sometimes.

Pairings: Platonic Uraraka and Ojiro

Warnings: Bakugou being a jerk, some light angst

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: Omg this is such a cute pairing!! I've never even considered them together, either as friends or as partners. What would their ship name be? Ojiraka? Also, I've never written for either of them, so I hope this is okay!

Uraraka was tired. It had been a long day at school, and despite the fact that it was only Wednesday, she was more than ready for the weekend.

After changing out of her uniform and grabbing a couple items from her room, Uraraka flopped down onto one of the couches of the commons with a heavy sigh. She really didn’t have anything to do now that classes were over for the day. She’d already finished her homework and dinner wasn’t for another or hour or so. Despite how exhausted she was, she had just enough energy left to do one of her favorite activities to pass the time: coloring.

She didn’t know why exactly, but something about sitting down and letting herself get lost in the mindlessness of coloring had always been soothing to her. So there she was, sitting on the couch crisscross, using her knee as a table and getting to work. After a few minutes, the brain fog that had been plaguing Uraraka the last couple of hours began to disappear, and her mind was back as ease.

That was, until Bakugou came into the room. Looking just as tired and grumpy as she felt, Bakugou was about to head up to his room when Uraraka accidentally caught his eye.

“What are you looking at, Round Face?”

She quickly looked back down at her lap in alarm. “N-Nothing. Sorry.”

Bakugou continued to glare her way when he noticed the book in her lap and the pile of markers next to her. He came a few feet closer, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Tch. What are you, five years old?”

“Wh… what do you mean?”

At this time, Ojiro had just entered the commons and was just about to step into the elevator when the other students’ conversation caught his attention.

“Coloring books? Seriously? That shit’s for babies.”

Uraraka felt her cheeks start to burn.

“Hey, hey!” Ojiro jogged over to see what the commotion was about. Bakugou tended to pick fights pretty easily. “What’s going on here?”

Bakugou just crossed his arms and scowled at him.

Ojiro looked down at Uraraka, whose ears and cheeks were painted red. He then noticed the art supplies surrounding her. “Is he giving you a hard time?”

Uraraka just looked back and forth between the two of them, not daring to say anything.

“I heard you say something was ‘for babies,’” Ojiro turned to Bakugou with a stern look on his face. “You weren’t talking about coloring, were you?”

Again, silence.

“It’s really not, you know. People draw and color all the time! Besides, even if it was, what’s wrong with that? Everyone should be allowed to do things they enjoy, especially something as harmless as coloring. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is that we’re trying to be heroes!” Bakugou shot back. “Heroes shouldn’t be doing childish shit like that! If you really wanted to be a hero you’d be out training!”

Ojiro sighed, a little exasperated. “Of course training is important. But rest is important too. Doing things you love is important. If you don’t take the time to be a kid and let loose a little, you’re going to burn out. No pun intended, in your case, Bakugou.” Ojiro smiled, a little teasingly.

“Ugh, whatever,” Bakugou relented and headed back towards the elevator. “Whatever it’ll take for you to shut up and stop lecturing me.”

Uraraka and Ojiro both snickered at that, and in a few moments, it was just the two of them.

“Sorry about that,” Ojiro said apologetically. “Bakugou can be a real pain sometimes.”

“No kidding,” she agreed. “Um… thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve been okay on my own.”

“Of course you would have! But what are friends for?” Ojiro smiled brightly, holding out his hand. Uraraka smiled back and accepted the hand up. “You hungry? I think it’s about time for dinner.”

~~~

The next day was just as hard, though Uraraka did feel a little better after a good night’s sleep.

After dinner the previous night, Ojiro had asked if she’d want to hang out the next day after classes, in attempt to keep tabs on her since her fight with Bakugou. She assured him she was fine, but he insisted that it was his treat, so she obliged.

“So where are we going?” Uraraka asked walking next to Ojiro on the sidewalk.

“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places.” The two entered a chain link-fenced area.

“…a playground?”

“Yep! This was one of my favorite places in the world as a kid, and it still is. Come on! Let’s swing!”

And before she could argue, Ojiro grabbed her hand and tugged her along towards the swing set. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone else around, so they had the place to themselves.

“So,” Uraraka started, swinging her legs a little. “Why are we doing this exactly? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out! But where is this coming from?”

Ojiro laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I was thinking, well… I wanted to show you that’s it’s okay to be a kid. To let loose a little. You seemed like you needed it, especially after what happened yesterday.”

Uraraka’s heart warmed at that. She really couldn’t ask for better classmates as friends.

Ojiro’s expression dropped to something a little more serious. “I’ve realized that we’ve all had to grow up so fast in these last few years. It makes me kind of sad.”

“Why is that?” Uraraka questioned.

“Don’t you miss this kind of stuff?” He gestured to the rest of the play set. “As much as I hate it, I think you and I both know there’s some truth to what Bakugou said yesterday. Heroes are supposed to be constantly training, constantly trying to grow and improve their skills. All that’s great, but it leaves no room to be what we actually are… teens. Kids. Don’t you ever feel like you grew up too fast?”

Uraraka couldn’t help but think about her parents. How, as just a little girl, barely old enough to go to school, she committed to helping them make money in any way she could. All the experiences she’d missed out on when she was younger due to her family’s financial situation. “Yeah… I guess I do.”

Ojiro offered a sympathetic smile. “That’s why it’s times like these, in the little spare moments we have to ourselves, that we can take the time to indulge that inner child.”

Uraraka took a moment to digest his words. “I think I understand now.” Then, in a small, hopeful voice: “Maybe... a-after we’re done here, we could... um... get some ice cream?”

Ojiro grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He hopped off his swing. “Race ya!”

“Hey, no fair!” Uraraka laughed and chased after him.

~~~

After getting their ice cream—strawberry for Uraraka and vanilla for Ojiro—the two friends happily walked back to the dorms together.

“By the way,” Ojiro said, “I never got the chance to tell you, but I saw your coloring book, and well… it looks really good!”

“Oh!” Uraraka looked down, a little embarrassed. “Hah, thanks…”

He could tell she did believe him. “I’m being serious! I think it’s really cool that you’re into that kind of stuff. Have you always liked coloring? You seem to be good at it.”

“Yeah, but I really can’t take much credit. I mean, it’s just filling in the shapes. It’s not like I drew it,” she reasoned, licking her ice cream.

“Hey, I can hardly stay in the lines, so it’s impressive to me.”

Uraraka laughed, knowing he was probably just saying that to make her feel good, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

“Thank you,” she said, speaking as sincere as possible. They had made it back to the common area of the dorms where they stood, waiting to depart to their own rooms. “For everything.”

Ojiro realized she thought he had brought her back here to say goodbye. “Hey, if you want, you can hang in my room.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! We could watch TV, or if you have homework to work on, I won’t bother you.”

She smiled. “I’d love that. Thanks again, Ojiro, you’re the best.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Ojiro was a little taken aback, but quickly returned the gesture.

The two friends sat comfortably on his bed with their backs against the wall. The TV droned on in the background, mostly forgotten, as they chatted about school and their weekend plans.

Once the conversation died out, they settled down to watch what was playing on the screen, falling into comfortable silence. One of the characters poked the other, making them jump back and laugh. Ojiro smiled at the scene and stole a quick glance at Uraraka to see how she was doing, just in time to see her blush a little at the sight. It was so brief, if he hadn’t looked at just the right moment he would’ve missed it.

Suddenly feeling mischievous, Ojiro darted his hands to Uraraka’s sides and began squeezing, making her squeal and fall back on the bed in a fit of happy giggles.

“Ohohjiroho! Eeeep! Whaha—Why? Hahaha!”

“Because! I wanna hear you laugh! Didn’t I tell you to start letting loose?”

Uraraka was too weak and giddy to respond or do much more than weakly bat his hands in a half-hearted attempt.

Ojiro made the mistake of coming closer to get better purchase on her ribs, and Uraraka pushed through the tickly feeling just enough to be able to reach a hand up and scratch at the base of his spine, making him yelp and jerk away. This gave Uraraka just enough time to gain the upper hand by pushing him down and straddling his waist with her knees.

“Uraraka, wa-HAHAHAIT!” he burst into loud belly laughter as she began kneading up and down his torso the same way he had done to her.

“Maybe you should start taking your own advice, Ojiro!” she laughed with him. “Come on, you shouldn’t be afraid of being a kid again, right? Tickle tickle!”

This made his cheeks turn bright red and his laugh go a few pitches higher.

Uraraka was feeling all-powerful with Ojiro now at her mercy. That was, until she felt a soft, feathery feeling against her neck and under her chin, making her flinch and snort.

“Ohohoh my gohohosh, you snohorted!” Ojrio teased through his own laughter.

“N-no fahahair!” Uraraka stammered out as best she could. “You shohouldn’t be allowed t-to use your tahahail!”

“Wehehell too bahad! I’m using it!”

The two stayed like that, trying to out-tickle each other—Uraraka going at his ribs and belly, and Ojiro trying his best to throw her off using his tail to brush all over her neck and sides, both laughing hysterically. Eventually Uraraka was weakened just enough for Ojiro to get her back one last time before they both collapsed in exhaustion.

“Jeez, you don’t give up easy, do you?” Uraraka panted, a big smile still on her face.

“No,” Ojiro agreed. “But you held out pretty long too, I’m impressed.”

After finally catching their breath, Uraraka opened her arms in offering. “Cuddles?”

Ojiro couldn’t have refused the offer if he tried. “Heh. Yeah, cuddles.”

He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her torso, leaning his head into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him in return, resting her head atop his.

And there they stayed for the rest of the evening.